Rubber Science

There is a fair amount of ‘rubber science’* in the three science fiction novels I have written under the name Oliver Davis Pike. The one SF novel with my name on it, the time travel tale “When Man Was Young,” avoids much science at all. I certainly do not explain how anything works, only a few ramifications of the fact it does work. The book was largely an excuse to write about Neanderthals.

But the ODP novels: those consist of the stand-alone “Alienese” and the two Jack Mack adventures, “Among the Many Worlds” and “Jumping Jack.” All include faster than light (FTL) space travel and various useful gadgets. I do not dig deeply into the science in “Alienese.” There is some mumbo-jumbo about teleportation, which is pretty much central to the plot. How does it work? No idea; it’s an innate gift for some species and others can follow the ways they open. It might be assumed there is some ‘folding’ of space or something of that sort. Other technology was kept sketchy. “Alienese” is ultimately a light, humorous novel and not to be taken too seriously. That is not to say it does not have a coherent internal logic. That is a necessity for any good science fiction. Or any good fiction, period.

The Jack Mack novels are another matter. There is plenty enough rubber pseudoscience to be found bouncing across their pages. I base a lot of it—without overdoing any explanations—on the use of ‘super-massive elements.’ They are definitely involved in faster than light travel. Whether they are used to create a ‘warp bubble’ or work somehow else entirely, I have left to the reader to decide. Indeed, the characters are not always certain how things work themselves!

Which is one reason I made my main protagonist, Jack McFee—Jack Mack himself—a bit of a technophobe. As in “Alienese,” there is a mental component to the FTL technology. Yes, that echoes the navigators of the “Dune” books a little bit. Not that Herbert was the first to use the concept.

However, the ultra-heavy elements thing does pop up with some regularity. It is the basis of all sorts of tech, including artificial gravity and dampening fields and such. And, of course, it is exceptionally valuable and the mining of it—primarily from collapsed stars—is essential to the economies of most of the ‘many worlds.’ I really do prefer to focus on culture and economics and that sort of thing; I readily admit it. Chances are I shall crank out more Jack Mack stories in time. Assuming I have time!

I must mention that all the books mentioned (as well as all my other published fiction) is available from Arachis Press (arachispress.com) as print editions or as free ebooks.

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*The term rubber science was coined by science fiction author Norman Spinrad as a term for "pseudo-science ... made up by the writer with literary care that it not be discontinuous with the reader's realm of the possible." Spinrad created eight rules of rubber science:

Explanations must feel scientifically correct and have internal consistency.

Principles used for plot purposes must be planted in the reader's mind long before they are used as plot elements.

Concepts shouldn't be over-explained; a theoretical basis is sufficient.

When creating a new science, authors should pay attention to how established sciences evolve.

Interfacing two or more existing sciences will create a plausible new science.

Plausibility can be lent by systematizing terminology and relating it to existing human knowledge by choosing words for metaphorical resonance.

Rubber science can be solidified with believable hardware.

Rubber science can "contribute to the dialectic of scientific evolution" as a tool for intellectually exploring the unknown.

(this explanation was largely taken from Wikipedia; read further there for more info)

A Muram Creation Myth

I felt a need to expand a little on the mythology in the WIP so I wrote this. I've never delved much into the Muram religion (compared to others) but their ancestry derives in large part from prehistoric Central Asia. Think the Mal'ta Buret and Yamna cultures, among others, with a definite dash of Proto-Indo-European. I generally picture the Mura as somewhat resembling Native Americans.

These cultural roots are so deep and so ancient that I could make up just about anything, if I desired, but I attempted to echo some of the little we know of such cultures. And, of course, to reflect my own tastes in world building.

Pens

It can be inaccurate—and sometimes a bit of an anachronism—to have everyone up until recent times writing with quill pens. Quills have been around a long time, to be sure, but their era of greatest popularity and usage was relatively recent. So what did writers use in the Middle Ages and Antiquity?

Reed pens were common, and the ‘thrifty’ choice. Yes, a piece of stiff reed, pointed with a knife and resharpened as needed. The Romans used them. The ancient Egyptians used them (and maybe even invented them). Being more-or-less flat, they create a very different sort of line than a quill, something much more like a broad-nib pen.

This is not to say quills weren’t used all through man’s history. Any pointed object is likely to have been dipped and used. And, of course, brushes were invented too, very far back. Metal-nibbed pens were created and used, and were the popular choice of those who could afford them. More than a few medieval manuscripts were written with them. The uncial and black-letter forms, and those of the early cast type from the Renaissance, reflect the shapes such pens create.

The quill makes a quite different sort of impression on paper. One does not achieve wider and narrower strokes from the angle at which pen meets paper but from how firmly one pushes down. The tip is more flexible than in those other pens. This led to noticeable differences in handwriting in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries when the quill became more popular. Those differences were reflected in the typefaces created (but that’s another subject).

So, certainly, give your scribes quill pens if you wish, but remember they were not the universal choice, and relatively rare in some places and periods. Details such as dipping a reed into an ink-pot provide a certain authenticity and a different flavor to the worlds we create on our own paper—perhaps even with a pen.

Miami Beach

 

In the first Wilk adventure I wrote, ‘The Dictator’s Children,’ I have Wilk spending part of the novel in southern Florida, in Naples and in Miami, though the home base of the narrative is Havana and there is a foray into the fictional Central American nation of El Plantio. All this takes place in 1948. The pictures here are postcards of Miami scenes from the period.

The two hotels are much like the fictional Hibiscus in which some of the action is set—a smaller hotel, three stories, in the Art Deco style, and on the beach. One could imagine the Hibiscus looking like either the Pelican or Somerset here. In pink. We never get much of a look at the outside; either the action is at night or indoors.

But it is nice to have some idea of the appearance. The third postcard is Lincoln Road, the swank shopping area. Wilk and Elena Guzman stroll up the street (in a bit of a lull before the storm) and purchase Beretta handguns in one of the stores. Those come in useful very soon after!

Incidentally, the Pelican is still there on Ocean Drive, though more closed in by its neighbors now.