the finite

Its strange to fly through civilized space again, as civilized as an infinite void of dust can be. In the past decades we've made space almost homey, cushioned and lit and neatly charted.
There are no new places in space, only places new to us. There is always someone out on the border, looking out into what might be. They send out Feds and Frighties and settle new planets, burrow into new asteroids. So quickly now I wonder who is keeping track of it all.
Edward P. Furoighties will go down in history (whatever history is left) as one of the most important scientists ever born. The ones they still teach in schools: Newton, Da Vinci, Einstein, Lee, Hawkings. The Evollo team, bringing us modern flight engines. Michaela Tabachinski, who developed the system used in water factories. And Edward Furoighties, who worked for years perfecting the terraforming system used by each and every Earth-sent territory. He was not wealthy, his work barely understood by the majority of his fellow humans. Every terraformer bears the label of "Frightie" in his honor, though sometimes I wonder how flattering this actually is.

Beyond these words, beyond the names and labels we've pinned on cold places no skin will ever touch...there is a continuous, ancient expanse. When I look at what we did to Earth, what we'll do to Mars and all the rest...I'm glad we'll never get everywhere.

Jameison grew up on the edges of space, staring out through thick panes of plastic at the inconceivable wilderness. I never knew much about it, I never knew much about Jamie, but he took me there. When we had been jumping so hard and so wildly that we couldn't see straight, he'd set us out into nowhere. The first time we passed through the border of the known, I panicked. The coldness in his eyes was not reassuring, though I learned to trust it. I learned not to care.
It does something to you, living out in the borders. If you get lost, there is nothing you can do but choose a direction and hope. No North or South, hardly even an up or down. I've made my living making maps, figuring things out, but remember what it was like to plunge into nothingness and survive on hope and ferocity. Its all he had his whole life, and he filled me with it. It wasn't the ship that made us able to jump and fly like we did. It was him. He made us believe in the possibility of the impossible.

Here in the inner worlds, heading to Target City, it is easy to believe that everything is safe and secure. That everything is mapped out. Its not. Its just that the borders are invisible.