Module Two’s readings are connected by themes of space exploration and interplanetary/intergalactic colonization. The readings explore some ways in which human nature plays out in the hostile, uncaring environments people endure as they travel through space and explore unfamiliar planets. The characters must strictly adhere to the physical laws of the universe, with high-stakes attached, in each of these readings: in order to make it safely from one point to another in a spacecraft, as in Godwin’s “The Cold Equations;” survive on an unfamiliar planet, as in Weir’s The Martian; remain safe from hostile life forms, as in Leckie’s “Night’s Slow Poison;” or maintain symbiosis in a space colony, as in Ing’s “Down and Out on Ellfive Prime.”

Many of the readings flesh out the role that elitism would play in these technologically advanced spaced colonies which are framed as desirable alternatives to a dying Earth. In “Down and Out on Ellfive Prime,” the narrative is driven by the dichotomy between privileged, nearly infantile retirees and the falsely dead people who comprise the colony’s hardy, independent ‘scam counterculture.’ A symbiotic relationship between these two groups is revealed as Almquist, who represents the archetypal ‘rule-follower/enforcer,’ must enlist the help of Zen, who represents the archetypal ‘outlaw,’ in order to maintain the colony’s safety and assist the floundering retirees. Elitism is exemplified in the fact that the incredibly talented people who are responsible for Ellfive Prime’s proper functioning are discarded the second they become ill or outlive their usefulness, being given no reward for their service to the colony. The retirees enjoy the fruits of the crew’s labor while harboring disdain for the crew, and feel entitled to their elevated positions in the colony because of their wealth and status. In a somewhat similar way, “The Cold Equations” demonstrates elitism, in that the people remaining on Earth are characterized as destitute and desperate for a way to escape into space. People like Gerry, who compose the frontier of space, are the same poor people from Earth who put themselves in grave danger and are paid a meager wage for their trouble. This exact situation calls to mind parallels with the way that military recruiters prey on poor people desperate to change their situation and these soldiers become caught up in wars that endanger them with little benefit to them.

The theme of the universe’s indifference to humanity was hard for me to digest. ‘Earthsiders’ displayed the same naïveté in “The Cold Equations,” and somewhat in “Down and Out on Ellfive Prime,” (only in the case of the childish retirees) expecting that unchangeable situations will bend to their good intentions or their courage. In “The Cold Equations,” Marilyn Lee Cross was hardly able to accept that the penalty for her innocent mistake, in the harsh, uncaring landscape of space, was her inevitable demise. Mark Watney, however, was resigned to the callous environment of Mars, and this wholehearted acceptance of the situation at hand was part of what allowed him to survive. While reading each of these stories, I was forced to absorb the utter heartlessness of space and of the frontier, and this made me deeply emotional. In The Martian, Mark Watney’s nerdy, corny sense of humor alleviated some of my anxiety and fear. I could not really fathom that the situation in “The Cold Equations” would be so cut and dry – until the very last pages, I expected the pilot to take Marilyn’s place in the airlock.

“Night’s Slow Poison” depicted a different aspect of colonialism – fear of the foreign, or of the unknown. Inarakhat Kels is enamored with the supposed tourist, to the dismay of his fellow watch-mates and the other passengers, each of whom possesses different beliefs in the superiority of their own planets and cultures, as well as a fear of and disgust for cultures unfamiliar or unlike their own. The Ghaonians demonize the Radchaai, and their suspicions are eventually founded in fact, but other characters possess various other forms of cross-planetary preconceptions and bigotries. On another note, I thought that Kels’ shameful reluctance to cut off his own arm for his survival was meant to be set in contrast to his celebrated decision to kill Awt Emnys for the sake of Ghaon. What signaled this connection to me was the ‘tea vonda’ fastened to his hand in the former instance, which signaled that he only had time to make a cup of tea before he died, while in the latter instance Kels pointedly asks for a cup of tea after he makes the decision he failed to the first time.