Science Fiction Nation RP 2060 IC Thread (Earth)

[Danbershan]

OOC and Sign-Ups Here!

Central IC Thread Here!

Thread for any events in the RP occurring on the Earth's surface. Not for events in Earth orbit, which take place in this thread.

[Dolmhold]

Calgary, Alberta, Canada
Year 2060
Coverntry Hills

Even at an impressive four million plus, even after the absorbing of the neighboring metropolitan areas of Lethbridge, Red Deer, Okatoks and Medicine Hat into Greater Calgary, even as the city morphed before his eyes as the technological change converted the world, Jake Sun loved to stand at the top of the slightly sloped hill and stare off at the direction he just went away from in the sunset, observing the high points of the city center from far away, as in very far away. It was a majestic feeling, being able to bike from his residence in Coventry Hills and rise up that barely noticeble slope to stare at the city center, the Calgary Tower which has also since been given quite a few upgrades, and the ever-beautiful sunset, his view never obstructed by any new construct by a stroke of luck.

His dark brown eyes did not allow his mind to process the ever-quickening pace of time as the skies soon became as dark as coal and the stars blotted out by ominous clouds, while the sun shone on a different part of Canada as he calmly hopped on his bike and headed home to complete his ritual that had been part of him for ten years so far. As the storm cloud erupted into an outright rain, he silently cursed about it. The last storm was but an hour ago, ended by the blowing winds of the west and by the bright blades of sunlight cutting through. Weather was still unpredictable here. Nope, the weathermen might as well be doing quantum physics.

He sighed in agony as his drenched form entered his own dwelling, which was now a mess of inventions, concepts, ideas and submission forms. He was a private inventor, contracted by the RCAF most recently, and he was developing various new ideas and upgrades to the current cold ion engines they used on their fighters. Work had been decentralized for many scientists and engineers, although most were still required to maintain an avatar in a burecratic building somewhere across the nation "In order to faciliate greater communication" although most of them just communicated via mink link these days.

Canada's minds were beginning to develop the most wacky and out of this world inventions, often to compete with other new cybernations and in a hope that they could revolutionize the world. Floating beds, magnetic repulsers, gravitomagnetic railguns, you name it they would try it. If they failed, they'd work endlessly to make it work. And there he was, a pioneer of the cold plasma ion engine, stuck on how to further upgrade this wonder.

Canada was back in the business of being a mad scientists' paradise.

[Daiteikoku Nippon]

State of Japan, 2060

Imperial Palace, Chōwaden Reception Hall
Chiyoda, Tokyo,
Tokyo Metropolis

Japan has seen many changes in the past 60 years since the beginning of the 21st century. It was a period of the second radical changes in the way of living for the people of the country. From the rapid successions of three Emperors, Akihito, Naruhito, and Yukihito, the changing demographics, and their recent achievement in space exploration, Japan is reaching new heights. The country also experienced its share of disasters and violent events, the earthquake that sunk 20% of Tokyo's area, the nuclear meltdown at Fukushima Daiichi, and the Typhoon Uzume that cost the country hundreds of lives and trillions of damages.

But the country has stood against them all, united, and as more challenges they face, the tightly knit they become.

Empress Momoyo is the first Empress of Japan since the last female ruler, Empress Go-Sakuramachi in 1813. The early years since her succession from her father, Yukihito, has been controversial. Conservative Scholars in the early years of the 21st century has argued that female rulers should be temporary and that male-only succession tradition should be maintained in the 21st century. But in the third year of Yukihito's reign, Furansisu Koyama, the first Franco-Japanese to become Prime Minister, and the Imperial Diet, passed a legislation that changes the Imperial Household Law of 1947, to an absolute primogeniture, which would allow a woman to ascend to the Chrysanthemum Throne. This was truly a sign of the cosmopolitanism the new Japan now carries.

The reaction of the people were both positive and negative. Most of the negative reactions came from scholars who oppose the legislation or misogynists. This change in the succession law placed Momoyo second in line from the throne.

Today is her 30th birthday. In every Emperor, their birthdays are national holidays and their birthdays fell out of favour when the new Emperor, or in this case, Empress, comes into the Chrysanthemum Throne. Together, with her fiance, Junichiro, they approach the bullet-proof glass windows overlooking the crowd of people at the Kyūden Tōtei Plaza waving the Nisshōki* with energy. The crowd cheered "Banzai! Banzai! Long Live the Empress!" She approached the balcony, still covered with bullet-proof canopy and began her speech.

---

Imperial Diet (Kokkai-gijidō)
Nagatachō, Chiyoda,
Tokyo Metropolis

Unlike the festivities currently unfolding in the Imperial Palace, Prime Minister Daisuke Issei and the rest of the Imperial Diet are debating on whether nuclear power should be reactivated after nearly 50 years of being deactivated.

The Diet, even through the political party affiliations are divided. The politicians wanted to reactivate it argues that nuclear power would boost Japan's supply of electricity by a factor of 20, while the ones who oppose argues the potential hazards of nuclear power in a earthquake prone country. They also argued about the refueling, and reactivation costs of these reactors. How much money they would spend? Possibly in the millions of yen, maybe more.

With the closing statements finally ended, the Diet moved to a different subject. There is still tomorrow to bicker about this issue.

[Danbershan]

Billabong Caravan, Western Australia

Sheikh Abdullah bin Mohammed Akbar, Premier of the Australian Nomads, rubbed his eyes, stretched, and shook himself awake, reaching for the coffee his wife Aziza had brought him.
A jolt of the rover, as it drove over a ridge or into a pothole, spilt half his coffee on the floor. He almost exclaimed, using words he had heard from the Aborigine tribes, but bit back the curse. In front of the chair on which he sat, a small table topped with a screen showed a flashing line of Arabic text. In English, it would have read 'Perth Tsalmcor Investment Conference'. With a thought, he opened up the conference, instantly bringing a holographic row of seated or standing figures into being on the surface of the table, projected on an imperceptible spinning mirror. The room was instantly filled with the stentorian voice of Premier Chou, his strong Australian accent flavoured with sporadic Chinese accenting. This was commonly heard in the Australia of 2060. Zoning in to the actual content of Peter Chou's voice, the Sheikh leaned forward in his seat.

"...in the Syncing industry, the launch industry, the travel industry, the projection industry; Tsalmcor is jostling for top position, and with the boost in publicity from this investment, it will assume dominance in almost all of these sectors. We can't wander into the Vietnam Trap: WE are in control here, and so it must remain." Having been gesturing forcefully, he now sat back, his eyebrows lowered.

"Let us take a moment to thank Premier Akbar for joining us in this conference," said Premier Powell, of New South Wales. "As I'm sure you gathered, we are in the middle of a rather heated debate on the proposal put forward by Katherine Redwood, a political analyst under Premier Davies' employ, in Western Australia. Essentially, the proposal was for the Australian government to pour funds into the Tsalmcor Corporation, one of the biggest companies acting within Australia, so that we might have better access to space resources, a market in which we are somewhat behind. This would entail funding Astro Tsalmcor, the space industry division of Tsalmcor, in building colonies on Near Earth Asteroids, which would be self-sustaining, while producing resources for the use of Tsalmcor. Aside from the profits retained by the corporation, Tsalmcor would be contractually obligated to produce solar satellites, the electricity from which would be sold only to Australians. We'd also be able to pressure Tsalmcor into producing orbital infrastructure to serve our best interests."

Premier Nguyen, from North Australia, expanded on the point: "Of course, the downside of this is that Tsalmcor will be able to easily use the publicity to gain a monopoly over the market over several industries in Australia, and as you realise, the increase in the power of individual corporations is a slippery slope. We can't lose our authority to these corporations."

Sheikh Abdullah mulled for a few seconds before coming to a decision. "So surely the best solution is to put safeguards in place to keep Tsalmcor under control, as are in place in Nigeria, Brazil and much of Europe. We should put laws in place to restrict corporations to only a certain portion of the market. Until then, we need to keep Tsalmcor in negotiations, while we push the law through." He had almost said 'Imshallah' at the end of his sentence, before biting it back: the custom was to exclude religion from politics as much as possible, even though there was a Muslim, a Hindu and a Christian among the other Premiers.

The hologram of the aforementioned Muslim, Premier Willis, turned to him. "Yes, that was the conclusion we came to in my department. I'd like to put it to a vote for approval."

A chorus of 'Agreed's emanated from the holograms, Premier Chou's being rather mumbled.

Although there were several more levels for the proposal to get through before it came into practice, the unanimous approval for the idea by the ten Premiers was a very hopeful sign.

[Sulamalik]

Kibera, City of Nairobi,
Sovereign Administrative Region of Kenya:
East African Co-Operative


It started as a simple domestic dispute. A panicked mother had contacted the authorities about her child being thrown down one of the antique water wells by the child's drunken father. The police response had been quick and professional, the child saved and the husband in custody. It was thought to be a simple operation, but like so many things in the largest slum on the continent, nothing was ever as easy as first thought. The locals, inflamed by segregation both economic and very physical had begun to assault the offending vehicle. Before the first response teams had been dispatched the violence had spread throughout the shanty town. Simmering ethnic tensions between the African natives and Asian immigrants had exploded. Everywhere was the sound of uncontrolled fire and screams, and deranged chanting.

The Government's response had come in the form of the local outsource. Wikus-Swahold Risk Management had swept up much of regular security work during the police strikes last January. The biggest Private Military Contractor in country were known throughout the region for the ir skill and brutality while they performed their duties. When the call had came they arrived immediately and in overwhelming force, of course, because they were paid per number of arrests.

Inside the Armored Personal Vehicle Sunny Johnson pulled down the visor on his helmet. The digital overlay identifed his squad members and laid out a satellite updated map on the top left corner of his vision. He had been alerted by his quartermaster that the entire suit of riot gear was worth more than his life. He didn't quite know how to take that.

"Oi, bro... you on the up and up?"

Sunny looked up to see his acting Captain Nkala offering him a stun shotgun. The weapon fired small, taser pellets capable of taking down a meth addict on his stride. A safteyaim software was already preloaded into the onboard computer. It calculated on the fly weather and wind conditions and adjusted for optimal bullet flight. He gave a nervous smile and shook his head, taking the gun. "Naw boss. I"m good, I won't crack under you, I swear sir."

The Captain grunted and pulled down the release latch, lowering the exit ramp. One by one the riot-clad military contractors filed out to see an entire city on fire. The light from the buildings engulfed in flames and the hovering helicopter searchlights forced Sunny to close his eyes while his visor auto-opaqued. In clockwork precision they reorganized into an unbending, unbreakable line. The mob surged forward but was soon beaten back LRAD's and nerve stapling gas. In the midst of the confusion the contractors descended onto the beaten and broken people with their electrified batons. Like sheep they herded them into the waiting vans, ready to take them into provisional holding camps without a word told to them about what they were to be arrested for.

Sunny and his partners had cornered a rioter, a Cambodian immigrant, who had been unlucky enough to get hit in the chest by a nerve gas canister. He was bent over, mucus flowing from his nose and ears and vomiting on the side of the road. Captain Nkala picked him up by his hair and yelled at him, "You're under arrest! Do not resist arrest!"

The man didn't even register that they were there, vomiting even more-- this time a bit of red was mixed in with the green. The Captain paused, before shaking his head and printing off a small paper from his Multi-tool. "We're bring you in, here's you're receipt. You have to-- are you listening man? I said you have to sign this receipt or you'll be charged with resisting arrest! "

"I don't think he can hear you sir."

Nkala raised his visor and spat milky white phlegm onto the ground. "Fuck it... my pay isn't going to get cut 'cause of this fucker." He grabbed a pen and began to sign the paper.

Sunny looked at his commanding officer with disdain, "Sir... sir, that's not legal, and-and, You don't even know his name."

"He doesn't know his name. I'll sign with an X anyways." Nkala looked up, seeing the ambivalence in the young officer's face.

He handed off the arrestee to a fellow contractor and walked up to Sunny. He smiled then said: "Don't think too hard on this bro. After all, it's just Africa. You'll get used to it, I promise."

Sunny looked down, mumbling an agreement. He reformed back into formation and advanced, his shotgun bared at the fleeing poor. By the end of the night the entire world would know the expertise of his corporation.

[Danbershan]

Hauling himself up on the dock, Ikatere panted for breath. The merman held little affection for dry land, having spent almost his entire life in the ocean, aside from a few hours scattered throughout the years during which he sprawled out on warm beaches, usually on the Sunning Sands of Bondi Beach. But this was very different to the rough surface of the Phillip Memorial Building's Pier on to which he now hauled himself. As he pulled himself forwards along the wooden surface, his tail made wet slaps against the planks, shortly followed by the noise of his companions following him. As they progressed along the Pier, Ikatere and his companions chattered away in Australian Maritime Patois, a language built up from Australian English, Chinese languages, Indian languages, Polynesian languages and the tongues of the Sapient Dolphins, Orcas, Whales and so forth. The chattering, sporadic creole emanated out across the waters, sometimes being drowned out by the sounds of traffic and crowds from the city.

As he reached the Building, he hushed his companions to silence, as they passed through the great doors into the Hall itself, where a small group of people were gathered, all humans aside from a single AG Parrot perched on the back of a seat. They were hugely outnumbered by holograms projected from walls, tables and other surfaces. Premier Chou sat talking intensely to a hologram of Sheikh Abdullah Akbar.

As the assembled crowd saw Ikatere and his group enter, they began to settle down, and turned to look at him. The squeaky English speech of the holographic Sapient Dolphins came to a standstill, and Ikatere reared up to his greatest height; "Thanks so much for waiting. Let's get straight to it, shall we?"

"You're welcome," replied Premier Nguyen, "Let's call this to order, and get this carried through. We all know why we're here: to create a new official territory of the government, as is in place for the Bedouin, on behalf of the aquatic peoples of the Australian waters. Ikatere, if you'll just allow us to scan your retinas now, we'll get the post verified, and welcome you into our government, as Premier Ikatere."

[Sulamalik]

Melbourne

"God hates Abominations! We must wake up, wake up from this daze! Humanity was never suppose to live like this, God created us in his image, not that of a fish mongrel! We come here today not as Christians or Muslims, or Jews, or Gentiles... one hundred percent we are here first and foremost as citizens of Australia. As citizens we are here today to rise our voice in anger of non-human monsters given the right to represent our lives, our society, in politics. This country was founded by humans, for humans, not for their pets!"

The crowd cheered in approval as the Abraham incited his captive audience. The young African man spoke with lightening in his eyes as he expressed his disgust for the Parliament's newest 'guests'. He had come from Uganda to escape persecution as a Pentecostal Christian from the reigning Catholic fundamentalists. His skills as a Civic engineer had earned him a highly esteemed position in the African community of Melbourne. He garnered much trust and support from the immigrant families whose numbers had skyrocketed in recent years.

He pointed at the Phillip Memorial Building with a raised fist, his voice so charged with anger that he scarcely needed the microphone. "How does it feel to be betraying you're own species?" He said to the riot police guarding the entrance to the building. "Look in front of you ladies and gentlemen, our tax dollars are hard at work. Protecting us from controlling our government. saving us from the horrors of free democratic process.

The crowd forced itself upon the cop's riot shields, pressing their bodies up against the cold metal like some human tidal wave. From within the masses came a cry of Takbir! and with it a counter response of Allahu Akbar! Moments later the saying "Jesus Christ, be all the salvation in the world" rose up in equal fevour. Instead of competition these two chants played off one another, becoming a symbol of their unity in defiance.

"Takbir... ALLAHU AKBAR!"

"ALL PRAISE BE TO JEHOVAH!"

"Takbir... ALLAHU AKBAR!"

"ALL PRAISE BE TO JEHOVAH!"

The chanting grew louder and louder until the crack of automatic gunfire broke out, sounding like it was coming from somewhere in the crowd of hundreds. People began to scream and flee the area but even more took to action in the confusion and charged full force into the wall of riot cops. All the while the gunfire was sounding off intermittently throughout the scene of chaos, the bullet spray aimed directly at the guards.

[Dolmhold]

Ottawa, Ontario
Parliament Hill

"It was AN Exciting TIME in Canadian Politics," Sam Norris muttered mockingly under his breath at the CBC new anchor's remarks, or as he liked to call it, the leftist's corrupt communofascist liberal propaganda machine.

Immigrating to Canada since the most recent economic downturn in the United States, which hit his Southern town the hardest, he had settled in Alberta hoping that he'd find like-minded individuals there, the province being touted as the most right wing after all.

Instead, what he had found was beyond mind-blowing. As if the democrats of the USA weren't leftist enough, their "Conservative" Party was more like the frickin Chinese Communist Party, and he couldn't believe it when it was noted that Abortion wasn't even an issue, it was a given that it was legal. People laughed when he shouted that healthcare shouldn't be free, that the government had no business in it.

He had set out to change a few things, by joining politics and representing the seven hundred thousand Americans whom he thought supported these things and would allow him to win by a landslide. Instead, he barely managed to scrap a seat for himself in Parliament, and he was now being wildly touted as "the backwards man" in even media considered right wing.

Sitting down at his designated seat in Parliament after nearly blowing up in rage from the various media hounds that were throwing questions, which were probably out to mock him, he listened intently to the Speaker pulling up the issues that were of note for today. Issues that were so darn trivial he could hardly believe it. Funding scandles, in America that's called being a political party, He thought.

However, the most important issue that came up did indeed spark his interest. Crushed Bloc Quebecois, kicked out of Parliament last election round for good, urging civil unrest and funding anarchist groups such as the one that struck Edmonton last year, potential security concern for RCMP. Proposed increase in funding for the RCMP, It read.

The riot that struck Edmonton over the mishap with the local RCMP's behaviors was a terrible event, where stores were looted and millions of dollars worth of property damage caused, and worst yet, many of the anarchists weren't even Canadian. They literally came from across the world to cause trouble, that was how much they were getting organized. Of course, it wasn't all anarchists, and there was a respectable group somewhere in Quebec that was trying to set things straight and promote a positive image of Anarchy, but they were a minority.

"Maybe politics getting interesting isn't so bad after all," San thought.