I have a new story in a science fiction anthology released today. The Ross 248 Project takes us on an interstellar journey to a red dwarf star system with plenty of planets and moons, some more habitable than others. The star system shows signs of alien visitors having been there in the distant past, and now it faces a new set of aliens: humans and their AI progeny. The editors gave each of us writers the timeline of major events and asked for a story that fit into the sequence.
Naturally, my story involves a couple of the space lawyers the interstellar fleet brought along. Of course the interstellar fleet brought lawyers, and it’s a good thing, too. Although the other stories deal with danger, death, solar flares, and rogue terraforming, my story tackles the thorny legal question of who owns an alien artifact and the world on which it sits.
Joseph Stern, Esq. has his own personal reasons–and we all know lawyers aren’t allowed personal reasons–for wanting to find the alien object abandoned. When the military Patrol wants to avoid the precedent he would set, he must tread carefully or he could lose humanity a world.
On the pedantic side, I’ll note that Joseph faces a number of issues. Clearly, the lifeless structure’s been there a long time. But has it been abandoned? Do interstellar distances and travel times affect the statute of limitations, the time that must pass before something may be declared legally abandoned?
Does the law of salvage apply to the alien structure? On Earth it applies to shipwrecks, and the person who raises the sunken treasure ship may have to share some of his prize with the original owner–depending on the circumstances. On land, we apply the law of finds. No sharing necessary if the original owner abandoned an object. The structure is on a planet, not floating in vacuum. Does that matter? Should it?
Pick up a copy and read the saga of humanity’s star shot!
I thought all the lawyers were killed in the Thomasian Jihad of 2075 and their works suppressed. Rumors of Originalism and Textualism filter in occasionally from lofty, monastic aeries in remote mountain ranges of Central Asia and an abandoned penal aerostat in the Venusian stratosphere.
Ah, you thought wrong.