“Science City is in the desert. Wide flat planes, faultlessly predictable weather, close to the Equator, an ocean not far to the east for safe splashdowns. At night the gantries creak in the wind and change shape because of the cold. By day, it’s huge, it’s flat, it’s baking hot and there’s nothing underfoot but metal and rock and dust. This is hardcore spaceflight, in an environment almost as hostile as the universe gets without leaving Earth entirely. This is hardcore recycling: building vital components of your tin can from the titanium that made up the monument to four men whose own tin can blew up on the same pad one thousand, five hundred and fifty years ago. This is spaceflight for a country – a planet, even – where there’s absolutely nowhere worth looking but up; for people with a primal, spiritual understanding of “because it is there” and “forever mankind”; for people who measure human achievement by their furthest living representative’s distance from home.”
From the novella I discovered online: Fine Structure. If you like speculative science fiction (Scott, Matt, Sean, others), you’ll love this. No, it doesn’t make sense at first. Yes, it comes together (Read in order). It’s a wild, wild ride. I just told Erin that it makes my brain feel like I’m 14 years old and hiding under the covers at 2am while I discover this thing called science fiction. The strange thing here is that I do not even know the author’s name.
Why is this guy unpublished?!?