It Could Happen Here - CZM Book Club: Hermetica, by Alan Lea, Part One

Episode Date: August 3, 2025

Margaret reads you a modern speculative fiction novella written in the classic style that she thinks you'll like.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an iHeart Podcast. So what happened at Chappaquiddick? Well, it really depends on who you talk to. There are many versions of what happened in 1969 when a young Ted Kennedy drove a car into a pond. And left a woman behind to drown. Chappaquiddick is a story of a tragic death and how the Kennedy machine took control.

Every week we go behind the headlines and beyond the drama of America's royal family. Listen to United States of Kennedy on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts. I'm Ian Pfaff, the creator and host of the Uncle Chris podcast. My Uncle Chris was a real character,

a garbage truck driver from South Carolina who is now buried in Panama City alongside the founding families of Panama. He also happens to be responsible for the craziest night of my life. Wild stories about adventure, romance, crime, history, and war intertwine as I share the tall tales and hard truths that have helped me understand Uncle Chris.

Listen now to Uncle Chris on Will Ferrell's Big Money Players Network on the iHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. I knew I wanted to obey and submit, but I didn't fully grasp for the rest of my life what that meant. For my iHeart Podcasts and Rococo Punch, this is The Turning, River Road. In the woods of Minnesota, a cult leader married himself to 10 girls and forced them into a secret life of abuse.

But in 2014, the youngest escaped. Listen to The Turning, River Road on the iHeart Radio app, Apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. The stuff you should know, guys, have made their own summer playlists of their must-listen podcasts on movies. It's me, Josh, and I'd like to welcome you to the Stuff You Should Know summer movie playlist. What screams summer more than a nice darkened air-conditioned theater and a great movie

playing right in front of you? Episodes on James Bond, special effects, stunt men and women, disaster films, even movies that change filmmaking, and many more. Listen to the stuff you should know summer movie playlist on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. CoolZone Media. Book club. Book club.

Book club. Hello, and welcome to CoolZone Media Book Club, Book Club, Book Club. Hello, and welcome to Cool Zone Media Book Club. The only book club where you don't have to do the reading, is I do it for you. I'm your host, Margaret Killjoy, and I've been promising you big things. For Cool Zone Media Book Club. For months now, I've been saying big things just around the corner. And you're starting to think, Margaret's just saying that to have something to say. But it wasn't true.

I was thinking about big things. And the main purpose of those big things is that I'm excited about a bunch of new content that we've got for you. And we're starting that new content this very week. Because this week, I'm going to be reading you a novella. Well, okay, over the next several weeks I'm going to be reading you a novella. And I didn't even write it. I'm going to be reading you Hermetica by Alan Lee. And it was published

by Detritus Books in 2021. Alan Lee is a pen name. It's the speculative fiction pen name for an author you might already know about and if you don't you could come to know about. Name Peter Gelderloss. And Peter Gelderloss is the author of a bunch of nonfiction books you might have already read, including The Solutions Are Already Here and How Nonviolence Protects the state and a lot of stuff that talks about the formation of states and movement strategy and all kinds of things. But this is Alan Lee's debut novella. But if you want to find more from Peter, you can find his essays, his rants, his analysis and his missives on Substack at Surviving Leviathan or if you just search Peter Gelderlose which is Peter G-E-L-D-E-R-L-O-O-S and you can find all that on

Substack it's a good Substack I subscribe to it. Hermetica by Alan Lee. One. It was when days found a sheet of tree fiber inside the wall, stamped with black ink and the likeness of words, words referring to Earth, that they realized things did not add up. Why had they pried open the wall panel in their module in the first place? Destruction of one's module was destruction of hermetica itself, and no behavior was more selfish, more dangerous than sabotage. Of course, Snookums had started it, scratching at the panel. Not that that would count as a mitigating factor in any reconciliation process Deyes might be invited to join to address the sabotage. Snookums was a cat, a fugitive almost certainly,

inexplicable at least for the moment, but at the end of the day, a cat. Therefore, not a citizen. Therefore, not party to reconciliation processes. In fact, the relevant agreements would probably class Snookums' misdeed as negligent sabotage on Day's watch. Even though Snookum's was not assigned to Day's, did not even appear to be in the system.

Day's had permitted the cat into the module, had watched as the cat scratched fervently at the wall, had joined in the destructive enterprise, and now everything was unraveling at a terrifying speed. When Days was younger, they knew they wanted to work on the sky. The day Snookums appeared, the sky was a perfect azure and argent dome. It was oppressive in its glory. Days wanted to reach out, to touch it, to paint a little wisp of cloud just there. But they were not allowed.

The sky was the domain of others, who had been judged and found more worthy. How summarily unfair that a single exam had reduced days to a peon. After staring a moment longer at the exquisite sky, Days let their head fall, chest to chin, and trudged off down the block. Days had dosed that morning, but still they could not summon the will to smile a greeting to the people they passed. The mere thought of this failure brought the tears, a growing weight begging release, a release they could not allow.

Some moisture around the rim could fall within the probability shadow of allergies or sleepiness, not likely in their file, but still possible. But a whole fat tear rolling down a cheek would definitely result in days getting sent home marking up another sick day, Which in itself wasn't a problem. Even at 15% productivity, days would not be classed for permanent reconciliation unless they also logged a couple antisocials. But it would, ineluctably, feel like another failure. One more in an unbroken train, going as far back as they cared to look, as far forward as they dared to imagine.

Perhaps working on the sky had been an unpragmatically ambitious dream. Designers required the highest aptitude in aesthetics, mechanics, and maths. They had to be team players. The sky formed a joint project with engineering, LifeSys, and Metio. Days as high aptitudes and intuitive, low scores and teamwork and fine appreciation for suffering had tracked them into palliative therapy. Yet wasn't that, on another level, an affirmation of their feelings? Days had the unshakable feeling that it was their destiny to touch the sky.

What other dreams could one have condemned to die in transit? For Dayes's cohort, there was no final destination. Dayes's office, like all health centers on Hermetica, was at the node just at the end of the block. They paused before going in. It was so low today, the sky, as though it began just at the top of the section walls. The walls didn't end, Days knew. Every block was itself a sealed module, but the designers gave them something beautiful to look at overhead so they wouldn't have to stare at gray walls on all six sides. Days would give anything to climb into that deep rich blue. They sighed and walked through the double set of sliding doors.

Passing through decontamination, Days went straight to their office, lingering They sighed and walked through the double set of sliding doors. Passing through decontamination, days went straight to their office. Lingering in the common area would all but force the other therapists to ask them how their day was, and days couldn't bear the thought of that. How's it going? The cruelest question there was. They sat down and let out the tears. When they could, they focused on breathing, deep breaths. It wouldn't do to see a patient like this. Every work assignment brings us closer.

All of us or none of us. That's what they had been taught. Days was supposed to feel proud of their work as a therapist, but it was impossible not to see the assignment as some kind of failing. They had been early selected for placement in the science cohort, and at the end of it all, Days was barely a technician, while the others had gone on to great things. True, only one person in the cohort had been selected as a designer and, last they knew, sidetracked into an entertainment project as far from the sky as days themselves. And it was also true that officially all jobs were equally valued and prestige ranking was discouraged.

Appreciative commentary on this or that work category was boosted or muted accordingly. And even palliative therapists and cleaning bot repair overseers got their digital love. But people could still distinguish what was PSA, what was forced, and what was generally admirable. It was even worse in a science cohort because the peer reviewed structurally could not use the same metrics as the social. And if your name never dropped in a PRV,

you were definitely nobody. But it was not the lack of name recognition that chafed days. They could not help make the sky every single day, and in exchange they had to be classed as permanent reconciliation on their profile for all the cohort to see. If no one ever knew that they made those colors, those moonrises, those soul-hemorrhaging sunsets, they would be perfectly happy. It was the fact that they spent three and

a half days a week guiding point prods and air jets over the knotted backs and shoulders of those who did the real work, that they coached the creators of beautiful and important things on corrective posture that stifled their spirit. Once they were breathing normally, days called the console to life and clocked in. The first appointment came in, seating and undressing on the other side of the plexi. They were a young person in mechanics from the next block over who had started seeking therapy a few months ago for soreness and migraines. The two had talked on other occasions when Days was on the up.

They had a decent job in reducing distribution loss between blocks, the unending quest to make Hermetica more efficient. It wasn't genius work, but anything that might accelerate the arrival window was considered at least a little prestigious. Honestly, anything that involved working on the ship and not just on the bodies that filled it or the secondary machines that serviced it was considered decent. Days had never worked on anyone who had worked on the sky or the engines for that matter. It would be illicit, but Days wondered whether those job descriptions were tracked to higher grade therapists. The scan was complete and Days began directing their array of instruments over the patient's back, keeping half an eye on

the display that MRN'd all the neural activity, but mostly just following their own feelings on what the other body needed, how it responded to the probing, the vibrations, the digipressure, the heat, and the cold of the dozen different appendages they kept in motion on the other side of the plexi. Days supposed, they were pretty good at what they did.

There had even been comments on social that spoke of a magic touch that didn't seem to be PSA. They were pretty sure they had been written by real patients and weren't just machine love to cheer them up. For all its prosaic lack of glamour, therapy was something days could do when they were down and when they were up. They could feel what other people were feeling in a way it had surprised days to learn most other people could not.

And that was the world days inhabited, a jungle of raw feelings in which they were, at the same time, cold and alone. But do you know what will keep you, dear listener, from feeling cold and alone? The cold cold alone embrace of advertising. Because you and the advertising can be alone together. And can you really say that you're alone when you're listening to advertising? Probably. Here's ads.

The stuff you should know guys have made their own summer playlists of their must-listen podcasts on movies. It's me, Josh, and I'd like to welcome you to the Stuff You Should Know summer movie playlist. What screams summer more than a nice darkened air-conditioned theater and a great movie playing right in front of you? Episodes on James Bond, special effects, stunt men and women, disaster films, even movies that change filmmaking,

and many more. Listen to the Stuff You Should Know Summer Movie playlist on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. From iHeart Podcasts and Rococo Punch, this is The Turning, River Road. I knew I wanted to obey and submit, but I didn't fully grasp for the rest of my life

what that meant. In the woods of Minnesota, a cult leader married himself to ten girls and forced them into a secret life of abuse. Why did I think that way? Why did I allow myself to get so sucked in by this man and thinking to the point that if I died for him, that would be the greatest honor? But in 2014, the youngest of the girls escaped and sparked an international manhunt. For all those years, you know, he was the predator and I was the prey. And then he became

the prey. And then he became the prey. Listen to The Turning River Road on the iHeartRadio app, Apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Sometimes it's hard to remember, but going through something like that is a traumatic experience. But it's also not the end of their life. That was my dad reminding me and so many others who need to hear it, that our trauma is not

our shame to carry and that we have big, bold and beautiful lives to live after what happened to us. I'm your host and co-president of this organization, Dr. Lea TraTate. On my new podcast, The Unwanted Sorority, we wade through transformation to peel back healing and reveal what it actually looks like, and sounds like, in real time. Each week I sit down with people who've lived through harm, carried silence, and are now reshaping the systems that failed us. We're going to talk about the adultification of Black girls, mothering as resistance, and

the tools we use for healing. The Unwanted Sorority is a safe space, not a quiet space. So let's walk in. We're moving towards liberation together. Listen to The Unwanted Sorority, new episodes every Thursday on the iHeartRadio app, Apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Jeff Perlman The summer of 1993 was one of the best of my life. I'm journalist Jeff Perlman, and this is Rick Jervis.

Rick Jervis We were interns at the Nashville Tennessean, but the most unforgettable part, our roommate, Reggie Payne, from Oakley, sports editor and aspiring rapper. And his stage name, Sexy Sweat. In 2020, I had a simple idea. Let's find Reggie. We searched everywhere, but Reggie was gone. In February, 2020, Reggie was having a diabetic episode.

His mom called 911. Police cuffed him face down. He slipped into a coma and died. I'm like thanking you, but then I see my son's not moving. No headlines, no outrage, just silence. So we started digging and uncovered city officials bent on protecting their own. Listen to Finding Sexy Sweat on the iHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. And we're back.

And we're back. On a prior appointment, Days had asked this patient if they knew anything about the arrival window. But the mechanic wasn't that high up. And there wasn't really anything else they could ask someone like that. Certainly nothing that had any bearing on their block. The power worked, except when it didn't, but it always came back quickly, and emergency systems never failed. Every now and then, a PSA went out, and they were all asked to minimize usage between such and such hours. Surely, there was a lot of work involved behind the scenes, but what to say?

So, Dayz conducted the session in silence. The thought of the arrival window stayed with them, though. The arrival window stayed with them, though. The arrival window was always narrowing and widening based on the complex interaction between the colleagues in FIS and the ones in engineering. In interaction, Dase was not privy to, and would not understand anyway. But as it stood most recently, Hermetica was scheduled to arrive in two to three hundred years. At best, unless BioN, CogFizz, and Metaphizz made some huge advancements, days would live just past the halfway point.

They would never arrive. They would spend their life correcting the knots and cramps of engineers and designers who would put those knots right back in place with their next week of desk work. Even the ones who had complete HF interfaces, no typing, all verbal and gestural commands had posture problems. After all, many of the high-tier specialists voluntarily worked seven days a week to keep their edge sharp, as the old saying went.

So it was probably an NBS, a problem that would never be solved, which meant that Dayz's entire purpose was to keep fixing those reappearing knots, forever and ever, unto death. And that was all there would be. After two more appointments, Day's went home for the day. And that's when Snookums appeared. Crossing the block almost back to the module, they saw movement out of the corner of their

eye. Day's turned, and there was a cat. None of their neighbors had cats like that. Well, Days couldn't actually be sure. Weeks passed before any one person had the chance to spend time with even half the people on their block. But getting assigned a new cat, that was something people bullhorned on social every time. Vids, anecdote, and a flurry of commentary. Days would have noticed a cat like this. Ash and coal and tiger stripes with peach cream undertones. The cat had a peremptory gaze set over a broad, majestic nose that came to the perfect little fleur de lis paw print of a tip. A sculpted kiblet of marzipan perched over a pursed mouth flanked

by long fans of whiskers that bespoke a scornful elegance. The mystery cat ran up to the nearest wall, shoring up its confidence perhaps, but also inciting attention. Hey, snookums, Deyes said on a whim, not knowing why they lowered their mask. Not strictly permitted out on the street, but no neighbors happened to be traversing the block at this hour. Hey, baby. Dayes made kissing sounds, and Snookums, as it were, came hither.

The feel of its fur was so warm and soft, some kind of liquid pleasure flowed through Dayes' body body and they drank it up, parched, like one coming in from the desert. They immediately felt their trapezius relax, releasing weeks of built-up tension they should have noticed. It was, after all, in the center of their limited feel of expertise. But while a patient begged a diagnosis, the self always demurred. Having rubbed thoroughly against Daze's leg, Snookums ran suggestively ahead right up to

the door of the module. Daze's module. I don't suppose it's any harm if I borrow you for a bit. As they approached, the module door slid open and Snookums waltzed right inside as though it owned the place. Well, they joked, they can't say I kidnapped you. The bed extracted and Days plopped down on top of it. Snookum's jumped up and soon was atop their lower back purring and kneading away. Even more tension dissolved as though chains had been

wrapped around Days' lungs, and they re-encountered the tears forced down that morning, and so many other mornings. Now there were no more walls, and no need to man them, and Day surrendered every last tear to the bedsheets. By the time Snookum's jumped off, Day's felt dry and clean, lighter. They let the cat hang around until well after the beginning of the night cycle, stroking its head and flattering it with a progression of increasingly ridiculous superlatives, and then let it out the door. Snookums disappeared into the dark. Later they scrolled through all their neighbor's socials.

None of them had a new cat. Days woke up with a certainty that it was a special day. As soon as their feet hit the floor, the bed retracted and the smell of coffee infused the air. Good morning, they chirped. Good morning, Days. The blinds rolled up with a satisfying rustle, like a whisper in reverse, and Days saw that the designers had outdone themselves again. Another beautiful day aboard Hermetica. By the time they fell to a crouch, the floor panel had transed to sturdy foam, and days launched themselves into a dozen short reps of crunches, squats, and burpees. As they came down from the final leap, fingers almost touching the module's roof, they were

panting joyfully. They did a few stretches while their breathing came down, heel up on the windowsill. The shower extracted the moment they pulled their underpants down, right on cue. The jets were hot and precise, and days found bliss in the barrage of water. They didn't exactly have time to think

before the leader ran out, but to feel, certainly. They felt a wonderful day stretch out before them. They towled off and tossed it, along with yesterday's clothes, into the chute, which closed and vac'd them away. The shower dehumidified with a gentle roar, as days selected a new set of clothes, a loose baggy shirt, and some snug elastic pants that would offer no objections, they thought capriciously, if later they felt like dancing.

As soon as they took a seat, the MRE shooted out onto the table piping hot, its farther edge making a perfect tangent with the coffee mug at its side, just the way they liked it. Would you like a dose this morning? No, thanks. I'm ready to meet the world on my own today. Module had already predicted that response based on Dayz's vitals and visuals. But it also knew that being asked and saying no, affirming their ability to go without chemical supplementation, increased the average time before Dayz would again need a dose.

Breakfast was pretty good. A palette of flavors with names like bacon, mango, and plantain, before days would again need a dose. Breakfast was pretty good. A palette of flavors with names like bacon, mango, and plantain cast across a satisfying diversity of textures. As they finished up the last bites, they decided, hell, they could go all out. Calendar? Yes, days.

Who's my social appointment for today? Milti. Oh, good. Send a confirmation. Also a message. Recording. Hey, Milti. I'm looking forward to seeing you today.

Do you feel like coming over? I hope so. I'm cooking. Don't bring anything. See you at 19H? Bye. Sending. Thanks.

Shall I set your default to pre-confirmation on social appointments? Whoa-ho, module. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Daze chuckled. Wait and see how we're feeling tomorrow, yeah? Of course, Daze. They stood up, pushing the empty MRE and mug into their chute. Oh, Daze? Milti has confirmed for 19-H. Great.

It had been about a week since Days had kept a social appointment. You only got one a day, plus the malty on Sundays, and the block party four times a year for everyone in good health. It had been like that ever since the new safety was implemented, back when Days was an infant. It turned out that the population on Hermetica, ideal for rapidly settling a new home world, was also the perfect ecosystem for the evolution and incubation of new viruses. And 25 years ago, an epidemic had raced through the close quarters of the ship. ARPV, popularly known as the choking sickness, had infected millions.

It was only deadly in extreme cases but it spread asymptomatically making it exceedingly hard to control. The engineers and medicals perfected the module and block layout, restricting transit across the entire system. Every cohort and every block was composed of people of the same age, preventing cross-generational contagion and protecting the more vulnerable age groups while streamlining health services. And since then, there have been no serious emergencies. They had adapted. What had become vigilance became custom and life went on. But you know what is a

serious emergency? The amazing sales and deals that are available to our listeners through these advertisements, every single one of them, a serious life altering emergency. And you're thinking, but Margaret, wouldn't it have made more sense to use as an ad transition that what had been vigilance became custom and how life goes on despite these advertisements? Well, you might think that, but I'm holding by serious life-altering emergencies. Run! Don't walk to... Probably just press forward 15 seconds, probably four times or so.

or so. playing right in front of you. Episodes on James Bond, special effects, stunt men and women, disaster films, even movies that change filmmaking, and many more. Listen to the Stuff You Should Know Summer Movie playlist on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. From iHeart Podcasts and Rococo Punch, this is The Turning, River Road. I knew I wanted to obey and submit, but I didn't fully grasp for the rest of my life what that meant. In the woods of Minnesota, a cult leader married himself to 10 girls and forced them into a secret life of abuse.

Why did I think that way? Why did I allow myself to get so sucked in by this man and thinking to the point that if I died for him, that would be the greatest honor. But in 2014, the youngest of the girls escaped and sparked an international manhunt. For all those years, you know, he was the predator and I was the prey. And then he became the prey. Listen to The Turning River Road on the iHeartRadio app, Apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Sometimes it's hard to remember, but going through something like that is a traumatic experience, but it's also not the end of your life. experience, but it's also not the end of their life. That was my dad reminding me and so many others who need to hear it that our trauma is not our

shame to carry and that we have big bold and beautiful lives to live after what happened to us. I'm your host and co-president of this organization, Dr. Lea TraTate. On my new podcast, The Unwanted Sorority, we wade through transformation to peel back healing and reveal what it actually looks like, and sounds like, in real time. Each week, I sit down with people who've lived through harm, carried silence, and are now reshaping the systems that failed us. We're going to talk about the adultification of Black girls, mothering as resistance, and the tools we use for healing. The Unwanted Sorority is a safe space, not a quiet space. So let's walk in. We're moving

towards liberation together. Listen to The Unwanted Sorority, new episodes every Thursday on the iHeartRadio app, Apple podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. The summer of 1993 was one of the best of my life. I'm journalist Jeff Perlman, and this is Rick Jervis. We were interns at the Nashville Tennessean, but the most unforgettable part? Our roommate, Reggie Payne from Oakley, sports editor and aspiring rapper. And his stage name? Sexy Sweat. In 2020, I had a simple idea. Let's find Reggie. We searched everywhere, but Reggie was gone.

We searched everywhere, but Reggie was gone. In February 2020, Reggie was having a diabetic episode. His mom called 911. Police cuffed him face down. He slipped into a coma and died. I'm like thanking you, but then I see my son's not moving. No headlines, no outrage, just silence. So we started digging and uncovered city officials bent on protecting their own. Listen to Finding Sexy Sweat on the iHeart radio app, Apple podcasts,

or wherever you get your podcasts. And we're back. And we're back. Mask on and out the door, days looked around for snookums but saw no sign of the cat. A number of their neighbors were out and about and they sang out one good morning after another. The sky was projecting puffy white clouds and a strident sun and days relished in the wind whipping about their face. The membrane that closed off the top of every block was permeable to air and precipitation, as Hermetica's life support system needed to cycle oxygen, nitrogen, and water vapor

on a ship-wide basis. The system was far from perfect, and occasionally there were simulated weather events to equalize pressure and chemical distribution. Fortunately, the designers could always anticipate weather occurrences with the data they got from meteo, and they made sure the sky was always dressed for the occasion. So today, the clouds move from left to right in the same direction as the wind. Coming to the center of the block, days saw they were building something on the green. Coming to the center of the block, Days saw they were building something on the green. As a couple drones hovered about, movers deposited bundles and a couple bots erected a tall pole,

almost as high as the tallest modules, the family units. Was it already time for the next block party? Days wondered what the theme this time would be. The last one was Chinese New Year, but Days hadn't been feeling well and gave it a miss. Staying out of the way of the bots, they crossed the green. The health center was straight ahead but the supply node was to the right, at the end of the cross street. They had to get ingredients if they were going to cook for Milti tonight. But then they might be late for the first patient and certainly too excited thinking about dinner to focus on

work. They could stop by on the way home. It was a fortuitous decision. First in the queue, they got a new patient, one who worked in Metio. Bubbling with curiosity, they bit their tongue until the patient was comfortable and the ensemble of machines were whizzing and whirring over their back. It would not do to stress them out, compound whatever muscle problem had brought them here, and get a low rating on top of it all.

Some people loved to talk during the sessions, but others flat out fell asleep. So, you're a meteorologist? Days ventured after the patient let out a particularly appreciative groan. Me? No. Days? No. Days frowned. Nope, I work in meteorology, but I'm actually a botanist. Oh good, a talker.

I thought all the botanists were in alimentation. Most of us, but not me. You know the bushes and shrubs that grow on your block? Uh-huh. Well, every block has a botanical cohort, you see, to compliment the human population. Spread across Hermetica, we actually have quite a biodiversity in plant species. Of course, everything we'll need to terraform is in the gene bank, but there's a hypothesis

that after a certain stage of chem prep, we'll have better luck transplanting adult specimens. In any case, with livestock, we have a redundancy, and it's also proven to improve air quality and mental health for the passengers. Wow, well that makes sense. So what's the connection with meteorology? Meteos' primary job is to monitor the atmosphere aboard Hermetica. Of course, the atmosphere belongs to life systems. Their prime directive is to give us air to breathe.

But any changes they make have ship-wide ramifications, and they have to work closely with Meteo to roll out those changes and monitor any feedback. Think of Meteo as like a shock absorber for a life-sys. Ah, and botany? Well, what are the shock absorbers for the shock absorbers? A meteorology rollout is designed for the health of the passengers,

while minimizing the kind of discomfort systems ripples can cause. No one's thinking about the shrubs so that's where I come in. Weather events and atmosphere in general spell life or death for our botany cohorts and they're not very high up on the priority chain. Now your maintenance blocks are collecting chemical data every time they go by and the block analyzes it and sometimes can make a change autonomously. Schizofragma needs more watering? Done. But I combine that with qualitative commentary on plant health. I can override the block and design a special treatment regime for an unhealthy specimen.

And in the case of prolonged malaise, I can make a recommendation to Metio. Like, to change the weather? You bet! If it can keep a cohort from dying off. Of course, like I said, it's low on the priority chain, but sometimes they make adjustments. Whoa, that's amazing. I've never met anyone who can affect the weather before. So you're in charge of all the plants on Hermetica? The patient laughed. Me? Nah. I just supervise 100 blocks. No complaints here. That lets me travel way more than your average passenger.

But Hermetica's huge, and we each got our tiny role to play. If any one person just focuses on themselves, they feel small. But what we're doing all together? It's extraordinary. A shadow crossed over Day's heart, the first of the day. The patient was right it was extraordinary, but Dayes couldn't help but feel like their life was impossibly small. Was it fair that one person could travel across a hundred blocks, could reach up and touch

the sky, could make it rain? And Dayes had to spend their life between the module and the office, not even a hundred meters apart, touching strangers through a plexi and the intermediary of a dozen probes and appendages. It was their own fault, of course. If they had studied harder, they could have done better on the aptitudes. They had had all the advantages of an education in sciences. The other people from their cohort had gone on to important assignments.

They didn't keep up with most of them, but they could see what they were doing on social. One, a mathematician had created a dynamic encryption system that enabled classified reports to read one another so that specialists from different working groups and with different security clearances could access relevant information across departments or check their data against another set of data without actually having to view it in the event they did not have clearance. Another, a molecular biologist, was working on a team perfecting a nanobotic array that could quickly scan, detect, analyze, and repair genetic mutations across an entire organism. Plenty had gone into phys, and though physics people

generally could not speak about their work, it was rumored that one of them was in the nuclear program, working on Hermetica's propulsion system. Zimp, Daze's best friend from the cohort, was in higher ed, training the next generation of minds in quantum mechanics. AXA, another classmate, was in socio-psych, designing optimum human interactions. Definitely not Daze's cup of tea, but who was Day's to be picky? They were a masseuse, running the same dozen routines

over variants of the same four problems over and over and over again. The trainings, post aptitudes were simple. A year of anatomy and then a month of technical education for operating the machines. Day's had figured it out in a week. Zimp, on the other hand, had gone through six years of training and had to do hours of reading every week to keep up on the PRVs, and the molecular biologist from the cohort

had only gotten a work assignment a couple years ago after eight years of post-app training. If Daze had been feeling a little better, more social, the day of the aptitudes, would the outcome have been any different? They had scored well in analytical and maths, but the low teamwork score had spelled doom for just about any cutting-edge assignment. Dreading the memory, they were back in the unfamiliar room. Most of the faces were unfamiliar too. Cohorts got broken up for testing. The young students in the room were joined by another bond, though, who could fail to recognize the shared anxiety to know oneself and one's peers.

The examiner was late. No one was happy about that. The screens at the front of the class already read 920. That was starting time. They were supposed to have two and a half full hours to finish. Days looked around, weighing their peers' growing concern. The ubiquitous, Remember the Wiki poster hung, forlorn on the back wall. There were no windows.

At 92436, the door swished open and the examiner bustled in, taking their place at the head console. Their face was austere, not a sign of fluster or apology. Everyone in the class shifted, backs erect, hands at the ready atop their desks. The examiner logged in and entered a command and the console extracted from everyone's desk. Twenty sets of fingers launched themselves across tactile screens, entering personal ID numbers and passcodes.

Any moment, the first problem should appear. Instead, the examiner spoke. Speaking was strictly forbidden during the aptitudes, but they were the examiner. They could have you removed and failed for the mere suspicion of impropriety. Before the test begins, you will all go into config and set the test time back to 920.00. Use this override. A 12-digit passcode appeared on the main screen. That was certainly irregular and it hardly seemed fair. They had now lost five full minutes from their testing time and no one ever got

through all the problems. Days decided not to comply. Still, right into the examiner, they moved their fingers over the tactile so they'd blend in with all the others. Then the test started, and the first problem appeared on everyone's screen. Dun dun dun! That's the cliffhanger music, everyone knows that. Dun dun dun dun! That's not the cliffhanger music. Everyone knows that.

Dun dun dun dun dun. That's not the cliffhanger music. That's just me making noises with my mouth because I've been talking into a microphone for a while and it makes me lose my brain a little bit. Anyway, that's the end of part one, well, episode one of Hermetica by Alan Lee. Join us next week when we find out what happens next. And in the meantime, Alan Lee, it's a novella published by Detritus Books in 2021. You can go check it out now if you want. But you can also check out other stuff done by the same author, Alan Lee, as their

speculative fiction pen name and his name for most of his books is Peter Gelderlose, which again includes, for example, the book, The Solutions Are Already Here, Strategies for Ecological Revolution from Below. And you can also check out Peter's sub-stacks, Surviving Leviathan, and I don't know what else to plug. Besides, listen next week when I read you the next part of Hermetica by Alan Lee. All right, bye. And I don't know what listen to podcasts. You can find sources where it could happen here, updated monthly at coolzonemedia.com. Thanks for listening. powerful and built for serious productivity with Intel Core Ultra processors, blazing speed and AI power performance that keeps up with your business, not the other way around.

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