Overmorrow: Stories of Our Bright Future

By Smashwords

News feed getting you down? Spending too much time hate-reading and doom-scrolling?

Grab a collection of science fiction, cast your eyes starward, and put the current moment in perspective.

'An Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence, to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words: "And this, too, shall pass." How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride! How consoling in the depths of affliction!'
- Abraham Lincoln

"OVERMORROW: Stories of our Bright Future" is an anthology of science fiction short stories set in an optimistic future. From classic Golden Age style science fiction to wicked satire, from solarpunk to parody. Colony ships bound for distant solar systems, humans (and chickens) on Mars, Transhumanism and medical revolutions.

This collection will transport you out of the present day to the bright future of the day-after-tomorrow.

CW Hawes’s story The Sun is but a Distant Star starts with a colony ship discovering a world unexpectedly already colonized by humans. It harkens back to Heinlein and Bradbury and delivers on the promise of our bubblepunk cover (designed by the incomparable Yolande Kleinn).
In Martian Chicken Man Bokerah Brumley contributes the first of two stories in the anthology set on Mars - clearly the near-future of human settlement on Mars is one that captures all the best that humanity can achieve.
[Worth noting here that both CW and Bokerah write extensively in post-apocalyptic worlds, as well; it is rewarding for us as anthologists to solicit this sort of optimism from each of them.]
Mike Pauly takes the world of transhumanism and adds a twist in Thesseus’s Guy. It’s a bright vision of the world (though seen through a wicked family drama).
Then we offer a pair of interesting duos:
First, two stories in near-future, high-tech settings that go straight to the theme of the anthology: the power of technology to do good (though sometimes with unintended consequences).
John Olsen’s Working on Cloud Nine about an orbiting waste recycling satellite, and Allen Baird’s The Multicoloured Plain about the future of medical technology.
The other pairing is set in the far future: Curtis Edmond’s low sci-fi Detour, aboard a multi-generational colony ship flung at high speed toward a distant star; and then Karina Fabian’s satire Doall’s Brain, which pays homage to one (or more?) of the great TV science fiction franchises.
Then we return to near-future, low-sci-fi with three stories that illustrate how the human spirit can create a bright future, even against an otherwise challenging backdrop:
In Perspectives, Lela Markham contemplates the impacts of a global pandemic and humanity’s response, finding in it the truth that what perseveres is family, loyalty, and love.
NK Williams’s The Courage to Care takes us to a world of communal living and follows a restless soul who self-exiles to discover greater truths about herself and her role in the world.
And David Walls-Kaufman takes us to a world in Buffalo Family Safari where technology is nearly omnipotent but still unable to prevent a mother and teenage son from drifting apart.
Then we’re back to Mars in Glenn Damato’s Freedom and Luck, which juxtaposes the safety of the third generation of Martian settlers with the travails of the first.
And we wrap with a solarpunk story that shows that medical advances can change the life of not just one person but all of those around her as well.: Lyssa Chiavari’s Being Tamika.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Smashwords
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005472276

Book preview

Edited by:

Jon Garett & Richard Walsh

With stories by:

Allen Baird

Bokerah Brumley

Lyssa Chiavari

Glenn Damato

Curtis Edmonds

Karina Fabian

CW Hawes

Lela Markham

John M. Olsen

Mike Pauly

David Walls- Kaufman

NB Williams

Overmorrow

Stories of Our Bright Future

Published by

Very Good Books

www.vegobo.com

Smashwords Edition

Cover design by Yolande Kleinn

© 2020 Very Good Books

First Edition

Contents:

The Sun Is a Distant Star

by CW Hawes

Martian Chicken Man

by Bokerah Brumley

Theseus’s Guy

by Mike Pauly

Working On Cloud Nine

by John M. Olsen

The Multicoloured Plain

by Allen Baird

Detour

by Curtis Edmonds

Doall’s Brain

by Karina Fabian

Perspectives

by Lela Markham

Courage to Care

by NB Williams

Family Buffalo Safari

by David Walls- Kaufman

Freedom and Luck Always Go Together

by Glenn Damato

Being Tamika

by Lyssa Chiavari

Note From the Editors

Minneapolis

August 2020

There’s a long tradition in philosophy and literature that our reality is what we make it. Or, at least, that our perception of reality is influenced by how our attitudes filter it. And foremost among the attitudes that edify us most is the notion of agency: that sovereign individuals exercise dominion over their own lives. Maybe Marcus Aurelius said it best, Our life is what our thoughts make. Or perhaps Carol Burnett, Only I can change my life. No one can do it for me. Or, ascribed variously on the internet to Mark Twain, Thomas Jefferson, and Tiger Woods, The harder I work the luckier I get.

It was from this premise - that the only thing you can control is your attitude - that we set out to make the world a bit brighter by bringing together a dozen optimistic visions of the future. Stories that capture all of the promise too often overlooked/dismissed in current events like the first manned commercial mission to dock on the International Space Station, the continuing efforts to return to the Moon and - someday - to reach Mars, and even more pedestrian advances in self-driving, electrical cars and the dizzying pace of innovation in telecommunications, computing, and medicine. The stories that follow build from this fundamentally positive vision of human achievement and the world.

CW Hawes’s story The Sun is but a Distant Star starts with a colony ship discovering a world unexpectedly already colonized by humans. It harkens back to Heinlein and Bradbury and delivers on the promise of our bubblepunk cover (designed by the incomparable Yolande Kleinn).

In Martian Chicken Man Bokerah Brumley contributes the first of two stories in the anthology set on Mars - clearly the near-future of human settlement on Mars is one that captures all the best that humanity can achieve.

[Worth noting here that both CW and Bokerah write extensively in post-apocalyptic worlds, as well; it is rewarding for us as anthologists to solicit this sort of optimism from each of them.]

Mike Pauly takes the world of transhumanism and adds a twist in Thesseus’s Guy. It’s a bright vision of the world (though seen through a wicked family drama).

Then we offer a pair of interesting duos:

First, two stories in near-future, high-tech settings that go straight to the theme of the anthology: the power of technology to do good (though sometimes with unintended consequences).

John Olsen’s Working on Cloud Nine about an orbiting waste recycling satellite, and Allen Baird’s The Multicoloured Plain about the future of medical technology.

The other pairing is set in the far future: Curtis Edmond’s low sci-fi Detour, aboard a multi-generational colony ship flung at high speed toward a distant star; and then Karina Fabian’s satire Doall’s Brain, which pays homage to one (or more?) of the great TV science fiction franchises.

[Karina and Curtis have worked together in the past - Curtis even has an acknowledgement to Karina in his recent novel A Circle of Firelight (buy it, it’s great), so pairing them in this anthology seemed apropos.]

Then we return to near-future, low-sci-fi with three stories that illustrate how the human spirit can create a bright future, even against an otherwise challenging backdrop:

In Perspectives, Lela Markham contemplates the impacts of a global pandemic and humanity’s response, finding in it the truth that what perseveres is family, loyalty, and love.

NK Williams’s The Courage to Care takes us to a world of communal living and follows a restless soul who self-exiles to discover greater truths about herself and her role in the world.

And David Walls-Kaufman takes us to a world in Buffalo Family Safari where technology is nearly omnipotent but still unable to prevent a mother and teenage son from drifting apart.

Then we’re back to Mars in Glenn Damato’s Freedom and Luck, which juxtaposes the safety of the third generation of Martian settlers with the travails of the first.

And we wrap with a solarpunk story that shows that medical advances can change the life of not just one person but all of those around her as well.: Lyssa Chiavari’s Being Tamika.

The genesis of this anthology was our realization that we - humanity, in this case, not the editors - have been through worse than 2020. In just the past 100 years we’ve had two world wars, a global flu pandemic that killed millions, the unrest of the Cold War, and the threat of nuclear apocalypse. In those times the moment at hand seemed dark, but each time the dawn broke and the world improved.

Overmorrow is an archaic word meaning ‘the day after tomorrow.’ The stories to come are positive visions of the brighter future that is waiting for us then.

Jon Garett and Richard Walsh

The Sun Is but a Morning Star

by

CW Hawes

Randy Fields, captain of the interstellar colony ship New Beginnings, and his men followed the four homoy, as they called themselves, to the immense community center of the town of Nia Heymo to share the midday meal with their hosts.

The town was a cluster of four hundred and eighty-three buildings laid out in the shape of a square; with one main street running east and west, and the other north and south. Surrounding the town was an area of cleared land, but beyond the clearing was an almost limitless forest. A lake and river lay a half-kilometer to the north of the town.

Three months ago Fields was woken from cryosleep by Daisy, the ship’s computer. She informed him that their future home was already inhabited. After intense and sometimes heated discussions with his officers, Fields decided to explore whether or not establishing a colony on Ultima Proxa Four was still feasible given the new situation.

Scanner data told the voyagers that the native population of the planet numbered less than two million and that they had a pre-industrial society. They carried no diseases that would be harmful to the Earthers, nor did the voyagers carry any diseases that would be harmful to the natives.

When the shuttlecraft landed in the clearing north of the town, a couple hundred natives soon surrounded it. The shuttle’s scanners told Fields and his men that the inhabitants of Ultima Proxa Four were as human as they were.

How the heck is that possible? Igor Brodkovsky, the science officer, asked of no one in particular.

And no one had an answer for him.

After the captain and his men exited the craft, two men and two women came forward to meet them. They were dressed in identical white kaftans, with a rope belt at the waist. Their dark hair was cut in identical bobs. Other than the shape of their gender to give them away, the men and women looked identical.

The homoy folded their arms across their chests and bowed. By means of sign language Brodkovsky got them to speak, and after a minute or two the universal translator identified the language of the homoy as a member of the Indo-European family of languages.

Brodkovsky wondered aloud how that was even possible. We travel all this way only to find out we’re back home, he quipped.

Introductions were made and a discussion followed. Fields explained the reason for their presence and the homoy told them general information about themselves.

With the time nearing midday, the members of the welcoming committee invited the people from the sky to share their midday meal with them, which would enable them to continue the discussion.

Walking through the village, Tolman Chang, head of security, got Fields’s attention.

I don’t like this, Captain. What if it’s a trap?

Did you see any weapons?

Doesn’t mean they don’t have any.

True.

It would’ve been better if we’d bypassed all this and just settled that continent-sized uninhabited island. How do we know these people won’t turn nasty?

We don’t. But look around you, Tolman. Do you see any evidence that these people possess a military or police? They told us they don’t even have a government. We can’t meet with anyone official because officials don’t exist. Where’s the danger?

Doesn’t mean they won’t ambush us at this dining hall they’re taking us to and eat us for dinner.

No, it doesn’t. But to do so means someone would have to take charge, and they don’t do that.

I beg to differ, Captain. They form those ad hocs, they told us about. What’s stopping them from forming a Get-Rid-Of-The-Foreigners ad hoc? I can hear them now, debating whether to bake or barbecue, what seasoning to use, and when they should ring the dinner bell.

You watched too many telenovelas before we left earth.

Mark my word, Captain, no good will come of us revealing our presence.

Is Chang filling your mind with a steaming pile of dog doo, Captain? Stewart Patton, the colonist’s doctor, said.

Voicing his concern, Doc.

Make fun all you want, but I don’t want to be the one who says, ‘I told you so.’

Chang dropped back and took the rearguard position, his hand on the butt of his holstered disruptor pistol.

Doc Patton shook his head. These people are as dangerous as the munchkins in that ancient movie.

Fields smiled. So it seems, at least for right now. Only time will tell.

The community center was a long rectangular single story building. When he asked, Fields was told that the building was constructed of stone and covered with stucco.

The inside of the building was one immense room filled with long wooden tables at which the homoy sat. One of their guides, Wilric by name, showed them to several seats at the end of one table.

It will be easier for us to talk here, he said.

When they sat, other homoy placed baskets, bowls, and plates of food on the table for them.

Before we eat, we silently give thanks for the life that gives us life, Ingret, one of the women, said.

Fields watched as the homoy closed their eyes and slightly bowed their heads. In a moment or two they were finished.

Please eat, Fenver, the other man in the welcoming ad hoc, said.

Brodkovsky let his eyes roam over the food. Other than fish, you don’t eat meat?

Fenver answered his question. We do not keep animals for food, nor do we use animals, except dogs, for labor.

Why? Fields asked.

Dahlula, the other woman in the ad hoc, answered, Because we believe animals possess intelligence and souls, although not at our level. We do not wish to take advantage of those beings that are lesser than us.

And fish and dogs don’t possess souls? Fields said.

Dahlula smiled. We do not believe fish are advanced enough to possess a soul. We do, however, respect their life.

As for dogs, Captain, Wilric began, they are almost like little children. And as with children, we train them and they help us. Where would they be without us, and we without them?

Like on our planet, Brodkovsky said, while filling his bowl with stew and tearing off a sizable chunk of bread from one of the loaves. 

So fish is your only protein source? Doc Patton asked.

No. We also eat beans, mushrooms, gastropods, and insects, Dahlula answered.

Chang, his voice filled with disdain, said, Bugs? You eat bugs?

If by ‘bugs’, you mean insects, Dahlula said, then, yes, we do. They are very nutritious, plentiful, and we add them to most of the dishes we eat.

Brodkovsky looked at his stew and bread.

Ingret smiled. Yes, they contain insects. The bread, insect flour. And the stew, chopped insects.

The science officer shrugged, said, Tastes like chicken, and dipped the bread back into the stew.

I suppose insects are less labor intensive to raise, Fields said. 

Wilric shook his head. We don’t raise them. We gather them from the wild, and by doing so we reduce the population of naturally occurring pests.

A job for the children, Ingret further explained.

For the rest of the meal, the conversation revolved around agriculture. What Fields learned was that the homoy farmed small private plots and shared the harvest. After all, Fenver said, it is the wise thing to do. Do for those around you, as you want them to do for you. 

Is there a problem with people not working? Not doing their part? Fields asked. 

Oh, no. It is not wise to shirk one’s duty, Ingret replied. 

When the meal was over, Fields and his men paired up with the homoy to tour the town.

Dahlula volunteered to be Fields’s guide. 

What would you like to see first? she asked. 

I’d like to look at a house to see how it’s constructed.

I will take you to mine. Do you have any questions about us that I can answer for you? 

Lots of them. But I’d like to start with one about you. Are you married?

What do you mean? 

Are you with a male companion who you’ve pledged your life to? A mate? Someone with whom you’ll raise a family? 

Here on Homoya, women choose the man they wish to be with and the man stays with her as long as she desires his company. If children are born, they are raised by the parents, unless the child wishes to live with someone else. 

So I take it your society doesn’t have a strong nuclear family structure.

What do you mean?

On my world, a man and a woman usually mate for life, at least that is their intention. When the man and woman have children, they and their children form a family, and it is the parents’ responsibility to raise the children, to train them. Or see to it that the children receive training. Families are the base on which our societies and civilizations were founded.

That also happens here, Dahlula said, but our children are free to live with anyone they wish. And sometimes, the couple will ask others to take care of the children. We desire the best for the children.

Don’t you think the parents are best?

Not always, Dahlula said.

That’s interesting.

On our world, families do not form the basis of our society. Families are not considered to be of the greatest importance.

What is of greatest importance?

The concept of the Wise One. We seek to become perfect in Wisdom. All that we think, say, and do is governed by whether or not it is what the Wise One would do.

Does this Wise One exist. May I meet him?

The Wise One does not exist. The Wise One is a principle of thought, attitude, and behavior. Our vision as to how a perfect person relates to others and to our world.

Rather like our concept of God and the founders of various religions. Getting back to the previous subject, do your people change partners often? 

Some do. Many, maybe even most, are together for a long time, even a lifetime. There are those of our people who live with multiple partners at the same time. There are no rules to govern how we choose our companions, or how many companions we may be with, or for how long we are together. 

What about you? Do you have a partner? 

A smile played on her lips. Not at present.

Do you have any children?

No. I did not wish to have children with my previous partner. 

Fields took a sidelong look at Dahlula. She was a beautiful woman. Perhaps in her mid- to late twenties. Her dark hair was worn in the simple bob of her people. She wore the same white kaftan with a rope belt at her waist, as everyone else wore. Her height was above average for a homoy women. The top of her head being even with his nose. And like the rest of her people, she wore no makeup or jewelry. Her sandals appeared to be made of bark and rope. 

Do you have a partner, Randy Fields?

No, I don’t. You might say my career has been my wife. Now, though, with the colony, I suppose I’ll be exchanging my career for a spouse.

You do not wish to have a companion?

It’s not that. It’s the adjustment. Hopefully, I’ll meet the right woman and everything will work out.

Are you going to stay here, with us? 

There are a thousand people on my ship. That would be a fifty percent increase to your population. Would your community be able to handle all those people?

There are other communities. Enough so that your people could live amongst us and not disrupt the natural flow of life. 

I’m not sure that would work. We aren’t used to so simple a lifestyle. We like our things and gadgets. Nor are we used to the hard work. We have machines that do that for us. 

Are you happy with your things? 

Fields chuckled. Some of the people, some of the time; but not all of the people all of the time. 

We are happy, and we own few possessions. We pursue Wisdom and live according to Nature. There are no fights. No quarrels. No war. No dissatisfaction. We are content and happy.

That’s pretty amazing. I wish I could say the same about us. But don’t you get bored?

Boredom comes from dissatisfaction with what is, and from valuing those things that are indifferent to the pursuit of Wisdom. Boredom is a sign we’ve strayed from the path. She laughed. Besides, there is plenty of work and play to keep everyone busy. We do not have time to be bored. 

Dahlula stopped and faced Fields. He stopped and turned to her. 

If you lived with us, Randy Fields, you too would learn to be happy. She laid a hand on his chest. I would choose you for my companion and teach you. Life is simple. We are all free, but we choose to help each other because that is wise. Do good to others, because you want them to do good to you.

What if others don’t do good to you? 

That does not happen. 

Why? 

Because it is not wise to do so, and who willingly wishes to be a fool?

*****

Back on board the New Beginnings, Randy Fields was lying on his bed. He had learned a fair amount about the lifestyle and technology of the homoy.

They had no government and got things done by forming ad hoc committees. Daisy informed him that the name for the homoy system was anarchistic adhocracy. And from what he’d seen, it worked.

Their homes were simple, yet solidly built. Usually of stone and mortar, with a coating of stucco on the outside. Dahlula’s home was almost spartan. It was a single story structure, with a single room. Living areas were created by partitioning off space with decorative screens of cloth and wood.

Generally everyone worked in the morning. Activities such as farming; preparing food; making things such as tools, cloth, clothing, sandals, and pottery; building new buildings, or repairing old ones. The afternoons were a time mostly spent resting, or in meditation, or in creating art and music. After the evening meal, the community socialized. They played games, attended a play, told stories, listened to lectures, or sat around a fire and just talked. 

Dahlula told him her people had knowledge of ninety-eight other communities. Fields replied that the instruments on his ship had counted eight hundred and seventy-five, with an estimated population close to two million.

That is interesting information, she’d said, but I cannot see what value it has for us. We produce enough children to replace those of us who die. We keep our community small so we can provide for each other.

What about trade? What happens when a community gets too large?

There is little trade. We make almost everything we need. And if we can’t make it, we usually do without. Towns are at least one day’s walk away. Longer if we are pulling a hand cart, a bit shorter if we are riding in a dog cart. As for when the community grows too large, a group splits off and a new town is started.

Fields surmised the primary reason the homoy could afford to be rather passive economically and maintain a nearly static world was because of the climate. All of the towns they had charted were in a belt that had what on Earth was called a Mediterranean climate. The weather wasn’t severe enough that it required intense problem solving. If the people of Dahlula’s village had a colder Continental climate, he suspected things would be different. But they didn’t, and to consider the what ifs was idle speculation.

The town of Nia Heymo was surrounded by forest, and that seemed to be common with all the towns they’d observed from the ship. In fact, much of the planet was heavily forested. 

The lake was half a kilometer from the town, and was a wide spot in the river. It covered 162 hectares, and according to Fenver was home to over two dozen species of fish. And the fish were plentiful.

All in all, Dahlula’s world was idyllic. A utopia right in the middle of paradise.

The door buzzer sounded.

Come.

Lieutenant Commander Tolman Chang entered. May I talk to you, sir?

Fields sat up. What about?

The people on the planet.

Can’t it wait until our meeting?

I think it’s important, sir.

Okay, Chang, spill your guts.

These people understand woodworking, masonry, metallurgy, and pottery. They have the ability to make weapons.

Did you find any?

No. But, I found numerous metal tools, which could easily be converted into weapons. And they may have hidden their weapons to give us a false impression about their true nature.

You’re talking knives and spears, right?

Along with maces and swords. Yes, sir.

Chang, I mean no disrespect, but what are knives and clubs compared with sonic disruptors, tactical nukes, and an arsenal of non-nuclear weapons. We are the technologically superior people here. What on earth are you worried about?

I don’t trust them. That Wilric is a sly one. I had him by my side the entire afternoon. He asked all kinds of questions about our weapons and our wars and then suggested we divide our people into groups of twenty and place them in fifty different villages. It’s the classic divide and conquer strategy, sir. They want to eliminate us.

Dahlula suggested the same thing. She said they could better help us if we joined them.

"And what do we need help with, sir? With what do we need their help."

Beats me. They know this world. We don’t.

Once we’re divided, they could easily murder us in our beds. Living among them, we won’t be able to defend ourselves.

It’s possible, Chang, I’ll give you that. But honestly, do you see these people actually plotting our elimination? They don’t like killing animals, let alone people.

We’re stronger when we’re together, sir.

Thanks for your advice. See you at the meeting.

Sir, I don’t—

You’re dismissed, Mister.

Yes, sir.

Chang saluted and left.

Fields shook his head. That’s all I need. An outbreak of xenophobic paranoia.

*****

In the situation room off the bridge,