Venus. The Goddess of Love, Goddess of Beauty.
The Morning Star.
Giant aerostats hung each night in her dreams, suspended silver clouds amid biting hurricanes of sulphur and carbon dioxide. A ziplock bag was all that kept them floating high above a centuries old terraforming project. A ziplock bag – oxygen, nitrogen, argon. Air. Deep breath in, deep breath out, honest-to-God air. Being on Earth only ever reminded you of spacing again, the heavy lug of gravity, the immediately available freedom of no one knowing your name, of being an ant treading the chemical path, not a tinned ape. Being on Earth only revives the sense of homesickness as you leave, escaping the cradle.
The negotiations had not gone well.
DRM hadn’t died with the birth of 3D printing. DRM had grown, mutated. And the prices they charged! Monopoly piled atop monopoly – tortoises all the way down. Wallet-watching politicians found their pockets stuffed, and the age of copyright expanded ever-onward – two hundred years of the might of Mickey Mouse and the Disney Corporation. Great Wall and Cherry Motors had been the big winners of the last war, and the cost of their designs had skyrocketed.
But Susannah had a better idea.
No one had built a Citroen 2CV or a Kombi for more than a hundred years, they were almost pre-Space Age. No one had ever printed one before.
Thank Christ for the public domain.
Image via io9.com, written for this weekend’s Concept Art Writing Prompt, as well as for the BeKindRewrite prompt Space Age.