A supernova threatens civilization in Claire North’s ‘Slow Gods‘
Shutterstock/Martin Capek
When I set out to craft a space opera, my inspiration was the explosive power of a supernova. This cosmic phenomenon is unmatched in its scale and devastation. It’s captivating and frightening that we can anticipate its arrival. As a writer, I ponder: how would one face the imminent end of a civilization? What sacrifices would you consider to ensure survival?
This is the narrative at the heart of Slow Gods.
Imagine being an astronomer, acutely aware of a cataclysmic supernova poised to obliterate your world. For millennia, you have recognized this impending doom, yet your society has turned a blind eye. Proposing radical societal changes to avert disaster is a hard sell. “In 500 years… let’s overhaul our civilization to save billions” is met with indifference, a distant concern for future generations.
Suddenly, the timeline compresses—millennia become centuries, then decades. As you gaze at your grandchild, the harsh reality sinks in: you know their fate, and it’s not a pleasant one. Will they perish in boiling oceans, succumb to atmospheric fire, or suffer slow radiation poisoning? Incremental measures, such as distant colonies or space elevators, have proven inadequate. Urgent action is needed to shift the perspective from merely surviving to thriving, even with time running out.
Time is short. You have a century to evacuate five billion people before Earth turns to ash. The grand vision includes space elevators and colossal motherships capable of relocating millions. However, fears linger about the unknown—monsters lurking in the dark, disrupting the mission, or worse, devouring ships whole—elements beyond calculation.
In a century, it may be feasible to rescue everyone, but complexities arise. The population continues to surge faster than evacuations can occur. Can you realistically impose limits on births? A century devoid of children is tantamount to extinction. Life must go on, even while knowing that every child saved could lead to another life lost in the flames.
Decision time looms. Who gets saved first—leaders, innovators, celebrities? What about the disabled, the vulnerable, those on the fringes? It feels like extermination by omission. Is this what you stand for?
A lottery system offers a semblance of fairness, yet as years pass, hope dwindles. Those left behind face the specter of despair, perceived as mere casualties of fate.
But where would you run to? Some planets bar refugees. Others accept a handful, relegating vast populations to remote and inhospitable locales, far from home. Lives are saved, yet civilization crumbles. History is reduced to a collection of artifacts, your society exhibited like relics, distanced from their essence.
But there’s more than one story in this galactic tapestry. The narrative of Slow Gods continues.
What if you miscalculated the crisis, believing others would come to the rescue? With under a decade left until annihilation, billions face oblivion. The elite have escaped, yet they still crave the labor of the masses, manufacturing a climate of desperation.
Staring at the gunship, you realize that space may hold options, vulnerable worlds beyond the impending disaster. You may have to make an impossible choice: save your child at the cost of another’s life. Faced with annihilation or endless conflict, your choices become stark.
Claire North’s Slow Gods (Orbit) is July’s pick for the New Scientist Book Club. Sign up here. Join the discussion on our Discord channel here.
Purchases made through links on this page may earn us a commission.
Topics:
Source: www.newscientist.com