Blind Wake

[Superfluous Crow]

I have been wondering how I would go about making a sci-fi setting and the truth is I probably can't. Even if I'm a scientist by nature, I refuse to let my (possibly mediocre) ideas be stifled by facts and their ilk. So below is my take on the genre. For the hard sci-fi fans I can point out that I do not have FTL, but besides that you are probably going to walk away dissapointed.
I was probably aiming at a non-existent but evocative genre like baroque sci-fi mannerpunk/prayerpunk, but I don't know if my writing skills are up for it. This is a bit of a micro-setting, so you won't see everything fleshed out completely.

This was admittedly inspired by Steerpike's brief stab at Sci-fi, a stab I, by the way, would very much like to see more of. Aside from the presence of a decadent bourgeoisie, though, they are not very similar.
Hope you like it.      


Blind Wake
[ic]What does a man do if he loses? Yes. He either flees or he pays the price. Humanity in its entirety is no different. We are many, but we still choose to flee rather than face our judgment. I don't know how many times we have made that particular choice, but when the time comes, I know we will make it again. I'm also certain that we one day won't be afforded the choice anymore.
-Architect Malfurion
[/ic]
When the sons of the first arriving ark descended to the surface they had their astronomers unfurl their old digital charts and compare them against the Firmament above. The astronomers looked long and hard, but in the end they wouldn't tell anyone what they saw. They just wept.
 
This is not the first system the human race has occupied, but it might be their last. The universe is coming to an end as stars wither and die leaving only dark space, dust, and ephemeral blazes behind. But this sun is not yet dead, these planets are not yet scorched and humankind still remains. It is a beginning of sorts, if a humble one compared to the ending that draws forever closer: The end of the book, but the start of a chapter.

The Mass
An improbable congregation of three suns at the very edge of the universe, circled by hundreds of rocks, planets and celestial objects, it is here the humans have decided to settle. They call it the Mass.

In the middle sits the giant red star called Prometheus and the first world where the arks set down, now known as Urekteon. A barren rock, although of considerable size, the Virtuous not only wanted it to be their capital planet; they wanted it to be a work of art. For that, the unmarked earth served well as a blank canvas for them to terraform. So as the arks planted themselves in the soil an immaculate process began to make a paradise on earth, life spreading out from the edifices like a beautiful disease. Only the Virtuous wanted too much and even after 700 years the process remains incomplete. The planet is a patchwork of dead brown and living green with the 4 erected arks situated at the center of each great stain.  

Other planets were more hastily terraformed and were settled early by Gentry and the Seedless to be farmed and mined. At the outer reaches of any of the three suns asteroids gather in long belts, none more famous than Cantor's Belt. Cantor's Belt is a lawless zone of piracy, vice and second chances where ramshackle space stations cater to miners and fortune seekers alike.

The arks rest at the core of the first cities, gleaming titan's of weathered copper and crawling vines, still magnificent in their size and majesty. They serve as palaces for the Virtuous and their followers and provide the city with everything it needs to grow. They also house the arbiters, the artificial guardians and keepers of the Old Laws. Their serpentine iron bodies float gracefully through the air, watching the world below with their manifold eyes. Every human is just another cog in their calculating machine logic, another variable in their ethical equations. The Old Laws are not all remembered, but the arbiters make sure they are enforced.  

The Arks and Salvation
The arks fled a dying world in search for salvation, as the Chronicles proclaim humanity has done many times before. Monument-ships of carven metal and verdigris, Laden with knowledge and lore rather than just mere cargo, the achievements and failures of our species has been written into the very core of these vessels. Even we, the living, have been written into its book as organic matter does not handle the speed of light well. Our bodies were laid to sleep in soothing baths of gentle acid and the memory of us was the only thing left behind in the machine during the journey between the stars. When the time was right and our destination near, we would be reborn again from the very same waters. All of our memories would then be returned to us, excepting those of the old world itself. Those the machines would keep.  

The Science of Ages
The arks were not completely without material cargo. The men who boarded the arks, not quite the same as the ones who disembarked, found that some things were simply too precious to be left behind. The Court, the vigilant arbiters and the absence engines which propelled the arks themselves across the void are all examples of things they brought with them. And they all have their place in the technological mythology unfolding in the Chronicle.

The Chronicle is yet another artifact of worlds past, a history of humanity and their journey. The past is recorded within it, but as with all stories the truth and the lies mix and interweave more and more for every year that passes. And many years have passed since the first Chronicle was written. The story is divided into six ages; one age for every exodus. It lists the words spoken by God to his prophets, the exploits of the holy saints, and the advent of the Virtuous.  

The Virtuous and the Court
[ic]Can we be said to have lost if we never played the game?
-   Courtier Zardochles
[/ic]A hierarchy of four castes determines a man's place in the New Society. Lowest and most numerous are the Seedless, men who have been decreed to serve either as atonement for some transgression or so that they may set an example of diligence for their peers. The members of the Gentry make up the following strata. They are afforded rights, land, and futures. They are the common folk and the Virtuous preside over them. The Virtuous are the chosen; charismatic rulers of the New Society and its hosts and cities. Only the Architects, the immortals entrusted with the very survival of the race, are granted more respect. The Virtuous, although raised above the petty problems of common folk, find themselves trapped in a social construct of their own making, made out of debts, lies, and promises. Their lives might seem luxurious, but it is both a struggle against their perpetual boredom and the envious desires of their brethren.

The Virtuous have one additional privilege in that they are the only humans who retain access to the Court. An archaic computer system brought with the arks, maybe from many dying worlds past, it has an entire virtual city ingrained in its circuits. This digital utopia, in the shape of a picturesque seaside town from a distant time, is the playground of the Virtuous and their vices. They are served by supple digital citizens and the city never lacks for anything. Paradise is not without its flaws, though, and the age of the system is beginning to show as glitches become more and more frequent. Still, more and more of the Virtuous lose themselves almost completely to the simulacrum world, leaving behind the tedious suffering of the Mass to become Courtiers.

Flesh Unbound
While the Seedless must live with what God gave them at birth the Gentry and, in particular, the Virtuous are not bound by the same restrictions. Just as we as a race can remake entire worlds to suit our needs and desires, our flesh and mortal bodies are unfinished masterpieces waiting for our deft hands and divine inspiration to finish them.

There is one modification which is so intrinsically tied to the New Society that even the Seedless do not go without it. The god-chip, a Piece of God, implanted directly into every human's brain, allows every citizen to feel the unwavering presence of God Himself. Even those born without faith will not be alone and no one can ever doubt His being.  
 
The Virtuous, ever searching for an experience that by its singular nature will tear them away from their tedious lives of luxury and never-ending intrigue, play with their Gods-given senses and add new ones to their bodies. They listen to the heartbeats of birds high above, watch the crystal intricacies of the falling snow and let their fingers hum in harmony with the magnetic currents of the air. Some even take this hypersensitivity to a preternatural level, feeling things they shouldn't feel, seeing things that have already passed and unraveling the complex textures of history and age with a touch.  

The Plight of the Ambassadors
Whether we brought them with us unknowingly or they first made contact with us in the Mass, the creatures known as the Urges remain a lingering presence. There was a time where most could talk to them, but now only a few have this gift and burden. The Ambassadors, as these few are known, hold the power to do anything in their hands, but they must decide whether the price is worth it.

The Urges manifest as ghostly and sorrowful apparitions in monochrome; shapes almost human, but not quite. Sometimes, the image even seems to change violently to the worse, but only for a moment, never long enough for the Ambassador to be sure of what he saw. They dress in funereal clothes and speak in monotonous voices. The Ambassadors can ask for anything, and they will give it, but only if the Ambassador accepts the barter they propose. The price they ask can range from the inconsequential over a human life to the very light of the sun. The possibilities for rewards are even greater.                              
                       

[Steerpike]

This looks very cool, and I'm glad my mooncalf SF experiment at least provided some inspiration.  I really like the idea of the Court and am very curious about what the heck the Urges are.

So is powerful technology common in everyday life, or are things more feudal, with only the Virtuous/Architects possessing most technology (except for the super creepy god-chips, of course)?

[Superfluous Crow]

Powerful techonology is around, but sometimes the members of the New Society do not entirely comprehend the inner workings of what they deal with. The arks, the court and the arbiters are not something the Virtuous could easily replace, if at all. So while technology is generally advanced, the things the New Society can produce are nothing compared to artefacts of their last Golden Age.
You are right when it comes to the feudal influences though. The Seedless, and perhaps some of the Gentry, do possess advanced technology, but the sort that would seem archaic as opposed to what the Virtuous wield.

I might set the "story" a bit later after the first landing.    

[Superfluous Crow]

I have updated the original thread - both with new sections and changes to old sections. So those of you who read it before might do well to read it again. I would be very grateful if you did, anyway.

(Also please comment! The text is fairly quickly read and reading it must invariably evoke something in all of you, even if that feeling is just boredom.)

I wanted to blend science and religion somewhat with this, but aside from the god-chips I haven't done much to showcase that. Also, I should probably think a bit about the day-to-day life of Seedless and Gentry.  

[Ghostman]

The Urges manifest as ghostly and sorrowful apparitions in monochrome; shapes almost human, but not quite. Sometimes, the image even seems to change violently to the worse, but only for a moment, never long enough for the Ambassador to be sure of what he saw. They dress in funereal clothes and speak in monotonous voices. The Ambassadors can ask for anything, and they will give it, but only if the Ambassador accepts the barter they propose. The price they ask can range from the inconsequential over a human life to the very light of the sun. The possibilities for rewards are even greater.

So they are like grim genies that grant you wishes then?

[Steerpike]

They seem very Mephistopholean to me.

Are there any other aliens/entities you're planning?

[Superfluous Crow]

They are wish-granters yeah, but they require something in return. So Mephistopholean genie with a touch of the Faerie? Really, their origin is with all those sources, but I don't want to identify them too much with any of the three.
I'm still considering aliens. On one hand, the civilization as presented is very humanocentric. On the other, the somewhat Baroque hypersaturated landscape that I'm painting might take well to the introduction of an alien species. Perhaps natives or perhaps some that came with the ark?

[Steerpike]

Alternatively you could have vanished civilizations providing ruins.

[Ninja D!]

As is my norm, I will be typing this response as I read what you've posted. I will try to clean it up at the end but if I end up asking questions that you've already answered, this is probably why. Also, this is being read and replied to from my phone and that occasionally causes complications.

More and more people here seem to be going to sci-fi or something similar these days, or at least exploring it. I'm fine with that and I even embrace it for myself. Whenever I read that Steerpike had influence in something, I have a good idea of the feel of what is to come. It's almost taken on its own meaning, similar to the now generally accepted term 'Lovecraftian'.

First of all, your setup / introduction is beautifully done. I like the way you go from complete fiction short-story sort of feel to a fine narrative telling us the general situation and feel of the setting, then move onto the bulk of things or 'facts'. This doesn't say anything about the setting itself but I wanted to put it out there, anyway.

My first question is, hopefully, a simple one. Where did you get the names? Maybe, "What inspired the names?" or, "What do you hope to convey with your naming?" would be more accurate but I suspect that you get the idea. Did they just come to mind and fall into place? Were they carefully chosen for the feel they conveyed in you mind? Maybe the arks were named to represent the areas around them, which we may later learn more about? I'm particularly curious about the choice of Seedless.

At first I had it in my head that the Virtuous was the name of one of the arks. I see now that it is what the people of the arks call themselves. That, for me, calls to mind the people that in America are simply called the pilgrims.

 I'm curious about both the Old Laws and the Chronicles. Mostly, are these things secular or non-secular? Or, perhaps, they started out as one and became accepted as the other because they are now so old? I suppose since they relate to God, that makes them religious in nature. The meaning of that changes if this God is factually and clearly real, however.

Near the end of the first post, I really start to pick up a transhumanist sort of vibe, at least among the upper class. How important is that to the setting as a whole? I'd also ask the same about the Urges.

[Superfluous Crow]

The Virtuous are not the people of the arks, just the aristocracy, but I like the idea of them having a special name for themselves (as the pilgrims did).
The non-word names (Prometheus, Urekteon) are not set in stone, they were just chosen mainly as vaguely cool placeholders, but ultimately I wish to convey that the society is archaic as well as futuristic and combine as well as touch on how the society is defined both by byzantine opulence and unusual devoutness. The word names are selected more in accordance with this idea. The arks are a direct analogue to Noah's ark; the saving grace of a dying world. The arbiters are law outside human hands. The Court is merely an offer of escape.
I imagine the society as extremely non-secular. Not only are church and government mixed up; everything has sort of fused together. Science, mythology, statescraft and history have grown into an amorphous whole. Even the human body and mind are wrapped up in this chaos with memories being hidden away in stone and steel and God Himself being implanted in our flesh.
The Chronicle details the human voyages into deep space and the earthbound time in between. It is part bible, part technical manual, part historical account. The Old Laws are merely laws, but passed down through the arbiters from an unknown past.
The Urges are central to the politics of the world, but also highly unreliable and restricted in usage. Perhaps I should have an entire wish-making bureaucracy to back up the ambassadors...    

[Ninja D!]

Is God for sure real in this setting? By that I mean is there any actual interaction with the divine?

I'm not sure I understand how the Urges are central to politics. More about that might be interesting.

[Superfluous Crow]

Still figuring it out. But through the ambassadors the Virtuous can get anything they want.
There is no contact with the divine. He might be there, he might not. They sure believe in him though.  

[Ninja D!]

I imagine if I had a chip in my brain making me feel good all the time and I was told that was God's love, I probably would, too.

[Ninja D!]

I imagine if I had a chip in my brain making me feel good all the time and I was told that was God's love, I probably would, too.