The City of Ballast hangs like a chandelier, round and circular, multi-layered, well lit, and home to three hundred thousand souls, a single silver an umbilical cord, tying it to the world above. Nyika: a silent brooding world, white and yellow, spattered with patches of green and blue.
They were taking the Terraforming more slowly this time. More cautious. All major Terraforming decisions run by Ganesha, and his attendants, all proposed organisms screened and checked. Simulations run, and ecologies predicted.
Of all the Avatars, Ganesha was the most comprehensible. Cautious. Scientific. Concerned with long term outcomes. "Placer and remover of obstacles."
But still, mad, capricious, inscrutable.
You approach Ballast cautiously. Granting the station AI access to your ships controls, and allowing it to guide you through the interlocking maze of ships, deadlines, approach paths, burn areas and debris.
You tether on to the station, drifting at a distance of five hundred meters, the closest you can afford. You clamber into your space suit, check and double check the seals, and then step, into the narrow cupboard of your ships airlock.
Your lock is pumped clean, and then with a push, you drift, out into the black.
There is the sound of your breathing, and the cheerful welcome announcer, radioed directly to your headpiece: "Welcome to Ballast Station. You haven't shown any citizenship flags, so for now, we're going to assume you're a visitor."
The spin of the station throws you outward just enough to feel a tug, out and away from the world. With clumsy hands you reach out and take hold of the deadline tying your ship to the larger station, and clip yourself on.
"As a visitor, we'll require you to take a guests oath upon entering the station, in which we will ask you to swear that you come here with no violent intention toward any citizen, that your will leave in an orderly manner if asked to by any citizen, and that you will commit no violence, except in cases of self defense."
The Deadline is slippery. Beneath and above and below you, there is an abyss filled with stars. Off to your left, the sun glares, a spotlight, overlarge, oppressive and blinding.
Ships dock and undock from the main station, meter by meter you place one hand over another, ascended towards the gate.
"You will also be expected to swear an oath against thievery, extortion, drug importation and damage to public property. All minor offenses will be punishable via a suitable fine, and exile. More dangerous offenders will be presented to Morpheous, Avatar of Dreams, and are considered to have given their consent to his gentle care."
An interplanetary freight ship drifts pass, titanic, sleek, bulky- nearly the size of a city block.
You freeze as it draws close, fearful that the ship AI has made some error, and that you will be crushed, or roasted by the rocketry.
Neither of those things happen.
"Please confirm that you have heard all instructions, and will be willing to swear this oath upon coming aboard."
"Y-yes."
"Very well. More formal proceedings will occur once you arrive upon the station. In the mean time, please enjoy this selection of fine music."
A Swosh tune starts to play, one of the old picnic tunes with few lyrics and no real point to it. Something safe, G rated, not even bothering to reference patriotism or human reproductive practices.
"Feet on the ground," "My little Skylight."
You continue climbing, the station drawing closer, meter by meter, going from something large, to something truly mammoth, a cliff that takes up all of the sky.
Your ship dangles below you.
At least you won't have to climb on the way down. Just clip myself to the tether and slide.
By the time you arrive, you are halfway through listening to "Fire is an element", covered in sweat, and your hands are shaking.
Plenty of people get lost out here. Lose their grip. Make a mistake. Fuck up their seals.
It's not a huge risk. One in ten thousand, or one hundred thousand say.
But non-negligible also.
Your hand latches on to your allocated gate. The gate opens and you pull yourself inside. You detach yourself from the deadline you've been climbing, haul the gate closed, and the wait as the chamber repressurizes.
You lie there. Close your eyes, try to relax your cramped muscles.
You wince. Force yourself to breath.
"Remember that the stars are beautiful."
