Under the Light of the Earth

Chapter 2- Dubious Duties

The Viceroy Pen-Lunar, chief head of the executive branch of the Sea of Tranquility, the largest of the lunar nations, was honest to god named Oum Lovon Pou.

Oum Lovon Pou.

Oum Lovon Pou hated his own name. He preferred to be called the Viceroy Pen-Lunar, or just the Viceroy.
His parents had been part of the Lunar New Age movement. Everything was going to change for the children of the moon, they had insisted. We must have a new language untainted by the gravity-sickened brains of the earthlings. We must never cut our hair, because it flows free, that sort of thing.

It was completely inevitable that they would later be called 'Moonatics'. The Viceroy had often espoused the term, even though it was a problem for PR. An offensive word, they said.

How is it more offensive than being called Oum Lovon Pou? I have a right!
That was what he often insisted.
His old Professor Markov, a moustachioed tyrannical buffoon, had been especially vexed by the word.
"Lunatic is already a reference to the moon! Luna-tic! Implying the madness brought on by lunar cycles, often associated with menstrual cycle in women, or the curse of lycanthropy! This Tautology 'Moonatic' is unbearable!"

At that stage, Oum was forced to hand over about a third of what was supposed to be his rent. The students made bets over whether Markov was a Moonatic Sympathizer or whether he would rave about how they were new-age fools.
Oum was certain the professor would go off in a most entertaining way.
The majority of the class disagreed. They went with the respected opinion of Mitchell Wim, the resident Capsidac and the laconic favourite among the students.

Of course Oum did not believe in Capsidacs, owing to the indoctrination of his parents, and had subconsciously hoped to vindicate them. Since Markov's argument was about semantics, specifically, in criticism of the pejorative term, that counted as a defence, and so Oum lost the bet. And his 'Moonatic Atheism' became a rather prominent part of his reputation. It was helpful for his education in the long run, as professors had generally targeted him more in discussion, curious about his viewpoint. He made more friends, more connections. He was Oum the Atheist.

In essence, his position as Viceroy Pen-Lunar was attributable to his being humiliated by Mitchell Wim, that day.

He had that man to thank for the ridiculous outfit he was wearing.
But that was Wim's worst crime.

As the Viceroy waited for his old friend to arrive, he wondered how he would tell him what he had to say.

He gazed at his jar of Dust moths.

It was his opinion that they ought to be on the flag of the Capital, instead of that 'Man in the moon' image. A rather arrogant and crooked looking fellow, the Man in the moon was, rather sinister.

That banner, of the curved shape of the man in the moon, gripping a rabbit in his hands, his jester shoes pointed, was hanging behind the Viceroy's seat.

Dust Moths were far more exciting, to the Viceroy's mind. He kept the jar to remind him. As far as he was concerned, it was the real banner.

When the moon had first been given air, it was necessary to create an environment that would allow trees to grow.

Earth scientists had engineered the Dust Moths. Cannibalistic Arthropods, with a thick layer of photosynthetic algae cultured under their transparent shells. They grew in the sun, feeding off of their algae, and then ate each other in an endless loop.

They were left alone on the oxygenated moon until the instruments had registered an appropriate level of carbon dioxide to permit plant growth.

Something else had happened, the biologists did not anticipate. The ground dwelling arthropods, in low gravity, had flattened out their legs into wide fins, over the millions of generations per week. And they flew, high up into the sky, in great swarms, like living clouds.