California King
16 May 2020Mosselle
If Discovery is the rising star in tourism, then the planet of New California is the reigning king. Situated in the Epsilon Eridani system, it’s touted as “the Federation’s number one getaway for three hundred years,” a rare instance where reality and advertising actually agree. To the billions who arrive every year, its easy to see why. Theme parks, resorts, and venues of all kinds, ranging from the typical to outrageous, are dotted all over the planet’s surface- enough entertainment to last someone a lifetime. In a single day, you can walk along an exact replica of 20th century Europe, swim in a sea of genetically engineered fish, and blast your eardrums out in music arenas the size of cities. Tomorrow, pick three new equally outrageous things to spend your time with. If you keep it up, you won’t run out of novelties for over a year.
Such an offering doesn’t come cheap, and the billions of visitors equates to trillions of credits of revenue for WorldCraft. The astronomical profits are somewhat tempered by the equally large cost that the megacorporation undertook to get such a place up and running. Between the terraforming, construction, and staffing, it is estimated that the money spent could have completely funded anywhere from ten to fifty normal colonies. However, the gamble has clearly paid off. WorldCraft’s executives know that the New California is by far their number one money-maker, which is why the planet has become their headquarters.
Around the resort world is a single orbital, christened Fortress Cousens, which handles a large amount of the inbound goods needed for the thousands of planetary resorts. I was expecting Fortress to be a glimmering oasis of luxurious living… but it’s not. Instead, its barebones, sleepy and unassuming. The interior isn’t lavish like Mars High or Dawes Hub, nor is it high-tech like Ray Gateway.
What’s more, walking around, you get the sense that Fortress isn’t right. Most stations are in a state of constant flux. Rival factions duking it out, the occasional failed smuggling attempt, stuff like that. In contrast, Fortress is absolutely dead. Seriously- you can take a look at the various workers around shuffling around like zombies. They don’t take smoke breaks, drink themselves into a stupor at the bar, or even cuss you out if you accidentally walk down a maintenance corridor. You start to wonder just how much freight is going through this place to break these people’s spirits so completely.
However, I have a different theory. The way these people act reminds me of how Imperial Slaves behave when they fail their training programmes. Now, remember that WorldCraft employs millions on New California as stagehands, bartenders, dancers, and a million other jobs. With that many people, there are bound to be at least thousands that get poor ratings with clients, or simply don’t work hard enough. If you were a megacorporation, what is the best (read: most cost-effective) thing to do with them?
Simple: send them to space. Make them do the jobs that no one else wants to do. In this case, that means handling the astronomical amount of imported liquor, food, and contraceptives that New California chews through every day. These are second-class employees, not good enough for the resorts, and they know it.
In the Empire, these people would almost certainly be slaves. And they would be afforded a measure of respect, even if Federals would sneer at the very notion. This fact is the source of the hidden cruelty of the Federation: people are taught to hate the position afforded to them in the world. While New California is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful worlds in the whole Bubble, I can’t stand the thought of staying here for even one more day.