Sutopia 

Ch 16, SGraduation: Space Graduation

The lift ride was not a lengthy one and Logan was able to give a quick and timely farewell to his four legged co-traveler before making his way down the hall to his classroom.  When he arrived he saw that it was still empty and Pete was seated at his desk, feet up on it with what looked like an old comic book; Logan had only ever heard about them since all periodicals (newspapers, magazines and comic books) had long-since transitioned over into electronic versions for distributions on tablets.

Walking half way into the room, Logan was just about to speak up, but Pete beat him to it. "To be honest, Logan, I'm not really surprised that you're the first one back."

It wasn't a greeting the young man was expecting.  "I am?"

Pete set down his comic book and stood up. "You are, yes.  Did you get everything on your list?"

Rather than answer the question, Logan had a little itch in the back of his mind that compelled him to ask "How'd you know I'd be the first one back?  Did you make my list easier than everyone else's or something, Pete?"

The affable black man let out a laugh, moving over to join him in the middle of the room before easing back against a desk (apparently Pete REALLY liked sitting on furniture).  "No... everyone's list is randomized.  Aside from the fact that you've picked up on your implant faster than everyone else and I'm tracking everyone's progress real time.  Out of everyone in the class, you've also done the best job getting used to trans-humanity."

Logan offered up a blase response. "Well, seeing as these days you only work a few hours a week and get to spend most your time doing your own thing, it's not much different from my life back in the 21st.  I guess I was preparing for life in this day and age without even knowing it."

The snarky response got a laugh from Pete.  "That's a valid point, I suppose.  The only issue I hve, however, is that I'm tracking your final and I see that you're still short one signature."

The young man nodded in reply. "Right.  I know that YOU are following my social media so I thought I could get it from you.  That's not against the rules, is it?"

Pete smirked. "It most certainly is not." 

Logan waited until his teacher made a gesture in the air with his finger, creating his signature so that his implant could track it.  Once he received it, the young man noticed that all of his objectives were checked off.  "Okay... guess that's it then.  I'm ready to turn in my final."

Smiling, his instructor nodded.  "Congratulations, Logan.  You're done with your integration class. Your LHM privileges are now all granted  and you'll be assigned all the rights and responsibilities of a Lunar Spire citizen.  Welcome to trans-humanity."

There really wasn't much pomp and circumstance to it; there was no graduation ceremony or walking down the aisle or messing with a graduation cap; there wasn't any audience... not physically anyway.  Logan found that difference out immediately as, over the course of less than a minute over a thousand congratulation messages came through his social media feed on LHM.  Logan asked a question he already knew the answer to.  "You're broadcasting the class graduation, right?"

Pete laughed. "I'm almost always broadcasting, Logan.  Go on... go meet up with Star and get out there.  You'll have a great time meeting everyone here and, when you're done, you can go anywhere you want to meet anyone else."

Providing a quick thanks to Pete, Logan headed out of the classroom for the last time, feeling.... not much different (if he was being honest with himself).  The young man had the same impression of life post completion than he had the prior day-- in truth, there really wasn't any big change.  Walking down the hallway, Logan considered that, searching through his thoughts about what he felt.  In the end the only thing he could come up with was that he could have been feeling a little more apprehensive.

As he meandered about through the halls in an aimless manner he set his implant to start sorting the social media messages.  Despite the huge number still barraging him he found it surprisingly easy to keep on top of, especially since he had his implant set aside general well wishes that didn't appear to require a response versus significant messages that did.  Since he'd developed a system for considering his messages, Logan found it much easier to keep on top of them 'in real time'.

According to his implant over 90% of the messages he was getting were basic congratulatory ones.  Various people on the Lunar Spire who he didn't know and who probably knew him through others' sim feeds were simply looking to make him feel welcome.  If he were honest with himself, they mostly made him feel weird... weird, with a surprising side effect of actually feeling welcome.  It was a strange experience.

His meandering paused when his implant identified one of the newer incoming messages as having come from Star.  Logan quickly bid that message to be opened.  It was full of eloquence-- not specifically in the words, but with the use of a combination of emoticons and text effects; the experience was strange because the message was vocal and yet, somehow, he was able to pick up the overt creative nature that should only have been able to be seen visibly on a written email.  As usual, Star taught him that he still had more to learn.

"Hey there, graduate!  Send me a DM when you have a minute between reading all of your congratulations messages... or tossing them without reading, whichever you end up doing.  I'm going to be hosting a little graduation party for you tonight (no more than 1000 people.  I promise!).  Get back to me so I can confirm the guest of honor will be there!  Love you, UNCLE Logan!"

There was an over-the-top saccharine feel to the message but, strangely, he didn't hate it as much as he usually did.  What he DID dislike was the thought that she'd scheduled a party for him; it was true that he generally hated people and, despite the fact that trans-humans didn't seem to be QUITE as bad as the humans he knew back in his own time, he wasn't sure that he was really up for a party.  Regardless, he resolved to reach out to Star and see about sorting through her message.  Before Logan knew it, his implant had made the connection.  Before she could speak up, the young man took the initiative. "Are you REALLY hosting a graduation party for me?"

He could FEEL her smile despite not having visual messaging on. "Sure am!  People have been begging me to hold one ever since they found out that you went through Corpus Verto.  Everyone's really excited to get together and celebrate your successful graduation... and at the top of your class too!"

Realizing that plenty of his emotion would bleed throgh the message if he let it, Logan reigned in his dismay. "I'm-- I... uh... wasn't expecting that.  Any reason why you didn't bring this up earlier?

Her laugh was musical.  "It's called a surprise, silly!"

He didn't answer her right away, taking a moment to process what she'd just said.  Logan had never had a surprise party before.  True, his parents usually did a great job of celebrating his birthday, but even that started to wane as he got older and older.  For his last birthday he got a birthday card with a prepaid VR gift card inside.  Although Logan liked Star caring about him, he wasn't sure he was ready for her hosting parties for him.

She must have picked up on that from his silence. "You know... you don't HAVE to attend if you don't want to."

He found the sentiment strange.  "But... if you're holding a graduation party for ME wouldn't people who show up think it's a little weird if the guest of honor isn't there?  Wouldn't that make you look bad or something?"

Star laughed anew. "No, Logan... not at all.  People these days are completely used to holding parties for any reason-- they don't have to be for someone specific.  Life's too short to be forced into social gatherings."

The final sentiment made Logan's brain do a loop-de-loop.  "But... don't trans-humans live for, like, HUNDREDS of years?"

His niece's words were full of humor. "Exactly-- life's too short to being forced into things."

Logan paused yet again, trying to feel out the waters. "So... you wouldn't be angry if I chose not to come?"

He got the impression of her furry arms giving him a comforting embrace. "Logan, Sweety, I'm too old to NOT speak my mind.  If it bothered me then I would be honest and upfront about it.  Please believe me when I say that, though I'd LOVE to see you there, I'm not calling it an obligation for you.  I think it'd be a great chance to show you off and introduce you around the Spire in a low-key, controlled gathering but your life is yours and you get to live it however you damn well please."

Her honest openness and comforting words made him smile.  The lift doors opened in front of him and his smile remained; he actually had it to himself for once.  Pressing the down button, Logan had his answer ready faster than he thought he would.  "Okay, Star.  Well, to be honest, I'm still trying to feel my way through all of this.  I won't say that I AM coming, but I'm also not going to rule it out."

Her response was just as relaxed. "I think that is a perfectly fair and thoughtful way to look at it.  I'm happy to hear that you'll at least consider it.  At the end of the day you'll do what's right for you.  The best piece of advice I can give to you would be to stick with doing what feels right.  Figure things out for yourself.  If you need help I'll be here, but it's your life, so live it, hon."

A thousand thoughts ran through Logan's mind in that moment; on one hand he really liked the idea of getting away from everyone and everything so he could just process his new life, but the other part of him honestly liked the idea of catching up with Star.  He could always connect with her in VR but, he realized after a moment, VR wasn't real life.... not that anything that'd happened to him in the past several days felt anything CLOSE to real, but he knew that he did have to go a little outside his comfort zone.

At that point he made his decision.  "I'm really not sure about a party but maybe we can meet up for some food and take things from there?"

He could hear the joy in her voice. "That sounds wonderful, Logan.  Do you have anywhere you'd like to meet up?"

Logan was not the kind of guy to random spout out pop culture references or 'cool guy' colloquialisms, but it somehow popped out. "Dealer's choice."

It was almost as if Star had expected him to defer to her.  "Okay then.  Thirty minutes-- meet me.... here."

The moment she noted the final word his implant provided exact directions to her place of choice.  They exchanged a few more brief words before Star disconnected to get ready to head out and that left Logan alone with his thoughts.  He considered pulling up some knowledge about where she'd selected for them to eat but, as another congratulatory message came through he figured the least he could do was review a few of them as he made his way to their appointed meeting spot.

The vast majority of social media messages were very simple, quick expressions of congratulations and/or welcoming him into the community.  A few of them were invitations for everything from stopping by to visit, meeting up for food, offers for trips on the moon's surface (he filed away both of those for possible follow-ups) and a surprising number of solicitations for sex.  Feeling himself blush at even the most business-like suggestions for "a good time".  

After seeing an invite from Noah the young man quickly requested his implant to filter out all of THOSE so he wouldn't have to encounter them in the future.  Apparently when Star mentioned that society was a lot less uptight about stuff like that she wasn't exaggerating.  Arriving at the appointed spot, he set the social media messages aside and took stock at where his niece had chosen for food.  "Woah."

The few eateries Logan had encountered up until that point appeared to be rather nondescript 'hang outs' that combined a school cafeteria with a night club.  There were never any signs and he hadn't really seen any kind of storefront, but the place Star had selected changed all that.  Positioned along the edge of the corridor like a building butting up against the walkway or parking lot of a strip mall, the restaurant had a distinct entrance with a flashy sign with glowing lettering identifying it as "The Twenty Second".

Making his way in through doors that didn't automatically open for him, Logan wondered if he'd somehow been transported back to his own time.  The eatery had the same kind of feel as a casual dining restaurant; it even had young man a year or two his junior dressed in a work uniform holding what looked like plastic menus.  The host's greeting was much more personal, however, and broke the illusion. "Hi, Logan.  Welcome to The Twenty Second.  Congratulations on your graduation from integration today."

Logan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Oh... uh... thanks."

The host (his implant informed Logan that the worker's name was Wes) gestured toward the small sea of booths. "Would you like me to take you to your seat or would you prefer to wait for Star first?"

Forgetting for a moment that his niece was something of a celebrity, Logan asked "You know Star?"

Wes laughed.  "I think just about everyone in the Spire knows Star, Logan... but if you mean do I know her personally, you could say that-- rumor has it that this is her favorite restaurant here on Luna."

Logan shrugged. "So she's a regular, I take it?"

A gentle, velvety padded paw rested on Logan's forearm from the side. "Every other day, give or take.  Hi, Wes.  I see you've met my uncle."

The host's smile widened at Star's greeting. "Afternoon, Star.  Not OFFICIALLY, but we got a chance to exchange a few words while we waited for you.  The usual spot?"

Star glanced Logan's way and, with a smile befitting a Vixen, she responded. "Dealer's choice."

Getting better at multitasking, Logan managed to go through six more social media messages as they were shown to the table.  Star slid into one side of the booth while Logan took the opposite side and Wes provided each of them one of the plastic menus. "If you have any other questions the PoS interface in the table can answer them.  Your server Dana will be along in just a moment."

Star was all smiles. "Oh, Logan... you'll absolutely LOVE Dana... one of the best servers they have here."

Wes winked at the Fox. "Why do you think I sat you here today?"

Once it was just Star with him, Logan set down the menu as glanced at her; she was looking right back at him.  Quickly thinking up a topic to avoid things becoming 'weird', the young man committed. "So... earlier today you mentioned fabbers..."

She laced her fingers of both paws together and, as she rested her elbows on the table, she placed her muzzle in her joined digits.  "Mmm-hmmm?"

"What's the deal with them?"

Both her ears rose and so did one of her eyebrows. "The... 'deal'?"

Logan nodded.  "Right.  Like... there are limits on things they make, right?"

Remaining right where she was, Star simply flicked an ear. "In general, yes.

He continued. "And what they don't make is based on the hab where they're located?"

She offered a very light nod of her muzzle. "And in some cases, people have to be licensed to produce certain things.  Right.  Generally fabbers are used to make things people need... or even things that they just want."

Logan remembered a term that he'd heard used. "Post scarcity society.  Right."

Star smiled. "Right.  Have you decided what you want to eat yet?"

He was only a little surprised that she was changing the subject, but he was ready to play her game. "Maybe start with some mozzarella sticks.  What about the whole book thing?"

The Vixen sat up, a bemused expression crossing her muzzle.  She gestured to the Point-of-Sale device seated on the table.  "Well, as you remember, in the 22nd century books were rare because of the wood and paper shortage, and because people had transitioned to data distribution rather than physical copies.  It allowed companies to own the data and control access to the contents.  Once humanity transitioned into a post scarcity society that became less of an issue and reading real, physical books made a resurgence.  That only grew since trans-humanity evolved out of the past.  Now people tend to find reasons to collect all sorts of things... it just so happens that books are popular."

Almost as if by reflex, Logan had put in his order for mozzarella sticks on the PoS interface. "And what about the whole 'no currency' thing?"

Star accepted the tablet from him and punched in her own order as she spoke. "When it comes to old currency, nationalism as you knew it in the 22nd doesn't exist and the traditional sense of national identity is gone.  None of those countries exist so their currency is more a matter of being a collector's item.  Luna, which had always been a neutral colony still maintains its refusal to acknowledge earth-based national identity, hence the inability to print old Earth country flags, currency, or what-have-you."

Logan accepted the tablet back from her, returning it to its place on the table. "Oh... I would have figured with all that being in the past and everything people just wouldn't care or anything."

The Fox sighed, running the fingers on one paw throgh the long, hair-like fur atop her head. "Oh... maybe... but when things settled down after the war, nationalists rose up as terrorist states and started to create issues.  Trans-humanity realzied that, to survive, those kinds of things just couldn't keep happening.  In order to defend itself against such blatant tribalism, trans-humanity agreed that national identity had to die."

Logan stared blankly. "So... you mean to say that, people here on Luna are exactly the same as Trans-humans on, like, Mars or somewhere?"

Star tittered, folding her paws in front of herself on the table. "Well... there ARE 'states' of a sort, but they're more like city states than what we would have acknowledged as governing regions like back in the 22nd... each individual hab tends to handle its own governmental affairs and, every now and again conglomerations of habs come to exist.  They sign temporary agreements and establish short-term governing guidelines for successful social partnerships, but that's about as close to it as we get these days."

Logan stared blankly.  "Temporary?  So... what happens when those agreements come to an end?  Couldn't that cause friction?"

The Fox laughed anew. "Logan... close to three out of every four habs are mobile.  Habs come and go.  When they make treaties and partnership agreements its because their trajectories bring them close enough for it to matter for awhile, or because they're purposefully aligning for some purpose-- once that purpose is over, -poof-, they're back to doing whatever they do separately."

Logan contemplated that for a few moments before another thought jumped into his head. "Well... what about things like Mars.  Aren't there a lot of habs close together there?  Or Jupiter?  What about habs that circle a planet?  They're located close together so wouldn't that mean more of a permanent relationship kind of thing?"

Star rolled her eyes.  "I'm talking more than just physically, Logan which, by the way, if you were to really see how far apart Jupiter's moons are from each other you wouldn't consider them 'close together'.  Anyway, I also mean that land isn't a limited commodity any more either.  Between trans-humanity's ability to colonize almost any celestial body or even create free floating mega structures, new habs can be created at any time.  Fixed national identiy doesn't really exist anymore but, yes, there ARE other sorts of collective identity."

Logan was about to ask another question but he was disrupted when a woman approached their table wearing the same kind of uniform as Wes.  She was a little taller than Logan and half her head was shaved; the other half had shoulder-length hair dyed a bright orange, but her most distinguishing feature had to be the fact that she had four arms.  Two of them held platters and the other two held glasses.  She set down both, speaking to each of them in turn as she did so. "Motz sticks, sliders, and two waters.  Good to see you again, Star, hon.  Nice to finally meet you, Logan."

Star didn't even blink at the waitress' extra appendages. "Thanks, Dana.  Logan here'll probably need a few more minutes to figure out what he wants.  These starters'll be okay for now and.  I'll take the usual."

The waitress nodded to Star and rested her lower right hand on Logan's shoulder. "Take your time, Logan, hon.  Feel free to flag me down or use the tablet when you're ready to order.  I'll have them get started on your sandwich, babe."

After the woman left, Logan glanced at his niece. "Hon?  Babe"?

Star laughed.  "She calls everyone 'hon'."

Logan repeated. "Babe?"

The Vixen gave him a toothy grin. "You're a prude still, aren't you?  Don't ask questions you don't want answered."

Clearing his throat, Logan returned to an earlier topic. "So... nobody uses currency anymore?  That went the way of old earth countries?"

She slid seamlessly back into the discussion. "Oh, plenty of habs use currency, but it's all NEW stuff, not the old national script and coins."

Logan thought about that for a moment. "So... can fabbers make the NEW stuff then?"

Star shook her head. "Not exactly, no... that would devalue it.  Fabber operators require certain codes to fabricate currency so only pre-approved amounts can be created so it doesn't get devalued.  You really shouldn't worry about that though since there aren't many money-based society habs that are worth visiting."

The young man's brow furrowed at that as he chewed and swallowed a bite of incredibly good breaded mozzarella. "Really?  Why not?"

The Fox woman made a face as she picked up one of her sliders, saying before taking a bite "They're.... insular.  I mean... digital units for accountability works better than handheld currency anyway, but some people never got past getting 'more and more'."

They both chewed in silence for a short time until she slid one of her sliders his way and grabbed one of his mozzarella sticks.  "Besides, I consider it a best practice to stay away from habs with a focus on accumulation... they remind me too much of the abusive hyper capitalism in the 22nd and 23rd centuries."

Logan tried a bite of the offered slider; it was probably the best hamburger he'd ever had. "Dang... this is GOOD food-- but, if we're living in a post-scarcity society why would capitalism be a big deal?"

Star snorted dejectedly. "Status signaling.  It's.... bad."

He smirked in response, gesturing all around with the final quarter of the slider in his hand. "Sounds like the 22nd century to me."

She shook her head. "You'd have to experience it to believe it and, to be honest, it's far more alien than that-- I hope you never have to see it firsthand.  Anyway, I suppose if you REALLY want to visit somewhere that has money the best choice would be a rec hab called Ozar's Realm.  It's a pretty popular place, and it's money is more game-based than any real kind of social symbol."

The statement confused him. "Game-based?"

Star smiled. "The entire hab is owned by one trans-human, and he designed it to be a resort for people who enjoy sword and sorcery.  It's quite the experience and I think everyone should-- oh... food's here!"

Logan looked up to see that Dana had returned with what looked like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Star.  Even though the young man hadn't ordered, the waitress set down a full sized bacon cheeseburger in front of him.  He was just about to tell her that he hadn't ordered anything but his implant spoke up, pointing out that he enjoyed the slider so much he wanted a full sized burger.  He certainly couldn't argue against the point-- it was, in fact, right.