It grew inside of me for a very long time, built up by images of children picking through garbage dumps in developing world countries to try and eke out some kind of survival. At the same time, as a fan of space and travel, I kept looking at the private space launch activity with optimism and excitement. Somewhere deep inside, that tension between carrying both feelings inside broke and this image of space travelers coming back to a dump began to form in my head.

I was mulling over the concept of “retcon” or “retroactive continuity” as it applies to fictional works: when a new piece of information provides a complete reinterpretation of past events, and what is considered “canon” undergoes a metamorphosis. This is not dissimilar to how our interpretations of history can be manipulated. Although we may believe we are neutral observers, we can be indoctrinated to see events from a deeply biased perspective.

There’s a reason the Jovian fascists in the story named their ship after Charles Lindbergh. While he’s more remembered for his transatlantic flight and is memorialized by multiple airports, he was also a Nazi sympathizer and white supremacist. We have to be vigilant when it comes to people that societies champion and honour, because too often they represent the worst of us.

This story began with a writing prompt from Alexandra Manglis, who is the Undisputed Prompt Champion of the World. It was an image of a giant redwood washed up on a beach. From there, I pulled in other elements I’m obsessed with—queer relationships, non-hierarchical social structures, environmental collapse—and worked at weaving together those threads.