I SPEND A lot of time contemplating what kind of future I want to portray in my stories. Will it be the nearly utopian kind of future depicted in the Star Trek franchise where the antagonists are primarily non-human? Or will it be dark and gritty like Battlestar Galactica where every character is their own worst enemy? The Star Trek approach gives us hope for a better future for all, but is it realistic? Galactica, on the other hand, paints humanity with the darkest brush, rarely giving us even a glimpse of joy.
Humans will always have their foibles. They will be misled, misinformed, act rashly, especially when afraid. The human gestalt will always be complex and fallible, no matter how good and true our intentions may be. Bringing these failings to life through story in a way that may help us learn to do better is the author’s job.
Of course I want to imagine a future with total social equity, where we have relieved all of society’s ills, but I’ve often wondered if that is plausible. Like the brave little Dutch boy, we plug the hole in the infernal dike with our fingers, but just as we congratulate ourselves for a job well done, another tiny rivulet of water springs to life just out of reach. Or we run out of fingers. Or help takes too long to come. Or the leak isn’t noticed until it’s too late and has already become a flood. But perhaps it isn’t a dike at all. Perhaps it is the hull of a ship, leaking precious air.
Taking what we know about the human condition and transporting that to Mars, or even as far as the stars, doesn’t change that. Humanity is still tribal, no matter how fast our jets, ships, and internet connections can take us around this blue globe. And aliens, should we ever have the pleasure to encounter them, will have their own set of problems, which may be unfathomable to us. The clash of these paradigms will raise the stakes, the drama, and the impact of the inevitable disasters. Xenophobia, eternally a significant problem worldwide, may be the only thing that can unite us as a species against an external intelligence, even if that intelligence turns out to be friendly.
In John Scalzi’s Hugo-nominated novel Old Man’s War, men and women of every nationality, sexual orientation, and skin shade work together to protect human colonized worlds from alien species who want to claim those precious worlds for themselves. On the other hand, The Expanse series by James S.A. Corey delivers a future where our entire solar system has been colonized, but humanity fails to unite against an alien threat, instead using this ancient alien artifact as a weapon to destabilize the delicate balance of power, pitting faction against faction in a deadly, politically charged environment where many humans are used as pawns and ultimately lose their lives. Similarly, Dan Simmons’s Hugo Award winner Hyperion tells the tale of a future where Earth is already dead and a group of men and women are sent as pilgrims to placate a mysterious creature called the Shrike in order to preserve the hegemony of mankind spread across the galaxy.
Exploring possible futures like these through story, illuminating our humanity in the face of new extraordinary challenges, is the space opera writer’s job. Through an author’s mind we experience humanity pushed to its limits firsthand, expanding our potential, revealing what is possible. These may be stories of personal triumph, cautionary tales, descriptions of futility in the face of an uncaring universe, and so much more. In them we learn what potential futures may await us.
It is often said that readers lead a thousand lives. By reading science fiction we can lead those lives with challenges we could never face during our brief existence on Earth. In the following pages you will find your chance to live a dozen more lives within tiny little universes that will exist only for you for a very short time. May they open your eyes, your heart, your mind.
As a child growing up in rural Illinois, Jennifer Foehner Wells had the wild outdoors, a budding imagination, and books for company. Her interest in science fiction was piqued early on when a family friend loaned her a Ray Bradbury compilation, among loads of other wonderful sci-fi books. Jen currently lives an alternately chaotic and fairly bucolic existence in Indiana with two boisterous little boys, two semi-crazed cats, and a neurotic chihuahua mix. You can find her on Twitter, extolling science and sci-fi fandoms, as @Jenthulhu. To find out more about Jen, visit: www.jenthulhu.com.