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The plodding

August 9th, 2018 Leave a comment Go to comments

The moon just hasn’t been the same since they started terraforming it. There was a time when you could galavant about through a sprawling expanse of gray dust with abandon; when the worst you had to fear was spraining your ankle on the lip of a crater. Those days are long gone though, now buried beneath a thousand apartment complexes and lunar fusion restaurants, just another slice of the past dunked into the dizzy soup of modernity and ruined by the sog. Among the few of us who can still recall those peacefully lonely days, a sense of empty lamentation has calcified within us, hardening our very souls in a vain attempt to protect those memories and freeze out the present. Fighting against the roil of gentrification is a futile effort though. It always has been.

Lunar life was once an almost Siberian existance, marked by a barren expanse and frigid temperatures, a place you had to actively seek out neighbors if you desired any. There was a time I could command my rover over hundreds of miles without encountering so much as a footprint. We pioneers who first settled here dwelled within a panoply of rocky cliffs and fields of stardust to roam, to examine. Encounters at the base camp were inevitable when we would return to collect food from the most recent rocket drone’s delivery, but they were infrequent. Everyone was all too eager to embrace the solitude of our new home, gazing up at a sky unimpeded by an atmosphere.

As the conditions worsened on Earth, the stampede to flee was inevitable, though its pace still surprised the majority of us. Seemingly overnight a skyline appeared, with many real estate operators recognizing that the myriad of problems facing them with their existing properties did not exist on the moon. There are no rising seas, relentless wildfires, tornadoes and hurricanes, so new construction here was not only a safer investment if there was the demand, it also circumvented countless insurance issues. Being struck by a meteor is their greatest concern even now, and those instances are rarer than many people think. The most common deadly incident up here is an oxygen tank explosion, which would be a concern for realtors if it happened inside their buildings, but they cleverly recognized this early on and collectively had everyone supply their own dwelling with their own oxygen supply, thus absolving them of any responsibility. The law has yet to catch up with their game.

Once the buildings began to rise, the population density almost immediately followed. At first it was only the wealthy who could manage the expenses of the move, but they soon demanded better infrastructure and quickly paved the way for an exodus from Earth. In no time the floodgates collapsed. The ensuing tide of capital and cynicism terraformed practically everything on this once humble outpost into a neon trade show as emotionally vacant as the craters the newcomers were celebrating. And within days they were arguing over the quality of appetizers.

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