Randy Ellefson's Blog, page 3

Info Systems in Scifi

Even in a fantasy setting, we may need an information system. It just won’t be technological like SF. Where do people get their news and other intel?

Sci-fi

We can modify any real-world technologies in SF. This includes radios, telephones, postal systems, and of course, the internet. But we can also invent new systems. The challenge of doing so is producing a result that’s different from what we have. This was easier decades ago than today, when audiences may expect the equivalent of what we have – instant transfer of voice, video, and data across distances as vast as the Earth. There’s still a delay across even interplanetary distances, with the speed of light being the upper limit on this. However, we’ve already seen depictions of seemingly real-time communication in film and TV franchises.

There’s a distinction between the end result (the instant transfer mentioned previously) and the mechanism by which that is achieved. The modern mechanism is the internet, which is comprised of numerous technologies that most of us neither know nor care about. It’s possible that our audience has limited interest in any replacements we devise unless their use (and breakdown) impact the story. But do we need to understand how a device works to show the reader that it’s failed? Failure can take various forms, such as a battery or connection issues, both of which audiences accept without explanation because it happens now.

If we’re inventing an information system and the tech by which is operates, we can approach this similarly to how we’d create items (chapter 7). We’ll want new names for the components that comprise our system, basing these on current analogues. Phone systems require a phone, a contact number, and either land lines, towers, or even satellites and other data systems to carry signals, plus the companies that charge us for the privilege. Answering machines, voice dialing, and even fax transmissions are other elements. We can do this same exercise with IT systems, which may need a keyboard, mouse/touch pad, screen, and a computer with ports and wires, etc. When devising our new setup, just replace such elements. When it comes to data storage, we must also decide how much info can be taken with us in portable devices and sources of new and updated contents.

In SF, we should have characters react to the quality and availability of tech at their disposal, because that’s what we’d do when confronted with something far better or worse than we’re used to. This is when those terms enter our dialogue or narrating. Show them having difficulty controlling the tech by name, jiggling it, giving it a whack, and then asking if anyone has another, then show how they plug it in, turn it on, or synch it. This is how to use this without dumping exposition. All computerized tech lends itself to hacking and other compromises, so be sure to take this into account; people may have to use biometric means to access systems or otherwise be inconvenienced in ways that they gripe about, and this adds realism (and audience empathy).

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How Much is Labor Worth?

We sometimes have a sense of labor’s value, but with potential new jobs that exist in SF or fantasy, we may need to be creative. Being plausible is once again our goal. Local conditions will impact this and we can invent that on the fly. Maybe I’ll earn a meal by chopping wood for two hours in one place, but it takes four hours in another. Why would this difference occur? The longer time means by labor has less value there. This might happen if there are plenty of potential wood choppers around. Conversely, if this is rare, maybe I’ll get by with suggesting only one hour.

Chopping wood isn’t unusual labor, but think of some unique jobs that might exist in a fantasy setting, given the plants, animals, and existence of magic. What if a wizard needs someone to practice casting a spell on? We’d imagine this quite lucrative, given the risks. Perhaps they need someone to assist as they prepare a potion or summon a demon.

In SF, gadgets and phenomena similarly offer opportunities. Maybe we need to test a device, whether that’s dangerous or not. Cleaning radiative sludge somewhere might be needed. Imagine anything dangerous or just unpleasant, depending on how much risk we feel is needed. It’s great when the experience changes our character or plot rather than being an aside, such as radiation sickness impacting a character’s ability to perform like usual days later when they need to.

In both genres, there could be an animal that must be fed, or watched even though it’s in a cage. Plants might need sowing, harvesting, or preparing, which doesn’t sound interesting unless there’s something special about this. Examples would be harvesting a man-eating plant, or cooking one which produces lethal fumes if not prepared right. Get creative when characters have no money and need something.

If they want to earn money rather than food, lodging, or transportation, we assign a value based on rarity, danger, or story impact. For example, if chopping wood will take two hours, which they have, this doesn’t impact the tale (unless they hurt themselves). But if they don’t have two hours to spare, this poses a problem. We can therefore choose a task and assign a value that will negatively impact them to a degree that seems appropriate to us. It can also have a positive impact. If chopping wood for a set period of time would earn me two silver pieces and I only need one, I could bargain to reduce the time or just take the extra money.

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Determine Costs in Your World

It can be difficult to determine how much anything costs in a fictional world, or the wages people are paid, but this is easier than it seems. Why do we care? Because we may want to show a fantasy character, for example, paying one silver piece for a drink and then three gold pieces for a dragon, and then we wonder if that’s on target or ridiculous. There’s a simple trick for this: use Earth values from the country where you live, then tweak this.

For example, if I buy prepared food, I know how much things cost in the United States. Using some made-up numbers, let’s say fast food is under $10, a cheap sit-down dinner is under $20, a nicer outing will set me back $30 for just myself, and something above $50 would be expensive, a meal for a rare occasion like a holiday. How does this help?

We’re not going to use the word “dollars” or “cents” in a manuscript set on another planet, so let’s say I’m writing fantasy and have decided that the generic “coin” is my “one dollar.” A turkey leg or steak-on-a-stake (i.e., fast food) might cost me 5 coin, a sit-down meal at a tavern catering to warriors and other working types might run 20 coin, a nice inn or restaurant might set me back 30 coin, and if I’m doing the latter on the eve of a major holiday or buying the most expensive thing on the menu, I’m spending 50 coin. Notice how the numbers are the same as my U.S. analogue.

I don’t have to determine value. I borrowed the economics of modern America as a starting point, at least. We can change the numbers, adding a zero so that what’s five dollars here is fifty coin there. Or we can multiple or divide by three if we want less relation to our source. We can do the same with wages, products, and services. For something not in use on Earth anymore, substitute an item that is (italics) in use. Not sure how much a two-handed sword would be worth? Well, it’s a pretty big, specialty weapon, so research big, specialty guns (still in use on Earth) and compare them to more ordinary guns to gauge a price. Plausibility is the bar to get over, not being “right.”

Don’t use the current price of a wagon, because who is using one aside from the Amish? Like cars, wagons come in different sizes, so create a range of values just like cars have. Note that unless a character will buy or lose the use of a wagon in our story, or express pride or dissatisfaction with one, pricing this is unnecessary world building. On the other hand, it adds believability if a farmer goes chasing after our main characters after they’re stolen his best one, which cost him a year’s earnings, unlike the older, more dilapidated ones. It can also make characters seem less like a jerk when they steal the latter instead.

When something is fictional, we must decide how much value it has. Even if dragons are common, one may be the equivalent of a military jet with fantastic speed, electronics, and weaponry. Those cost millions a piece. This means only a government’s military likely has them, but this analogy has a flaw: it costs money to build jets, so is a naturally occurring, living possession like a dragon worth less? Undoubtedly. Training of that dragon, rarity, and possibly equipment like a saddle are the only actual costs (other than lives) of taming one. The cost also doesn’t matter if they’re not for sale. If you want a dragon, you might have to kill its owner, assuming the dragon lets you or allows you to take ownership. But dragons are a unique subject.

What about something less spectacular, like a flying horse? This would be the most expensive horse, so determine the value of horses (like everything, they come in a range) and raise it. Someone who trains such creatures is unique and likely earns far more, and belongs to a higher social class.

For trading systems, it can be difficult to determine that one knife is worth three cows, for example. There isn’t a simple way to determine this, but we can infer that cows are naturally occurring and take no special intervention, whereas a knife, especially a well-made one, does. Therefore the knife is more valuable than a single cow? How much more? Story needs are a good way to determine this; if a character badly needs the knife and to keep the three cows, then this is a pain point for him. Do we need that? A pitfall to avoid is showing characters consuming or using items that aren’t local in the absence of trade with other communities. This is a minor detail, but avoid showing an isolated place that has every item available in a city, for example.

We don’t need to get value “right.” Our invented world can have gold as common as rocks and therefore gold has no value. Supply and demand means we have significant leeway and only need to be consistent, which matters more when writing a long series in the same world (or region of one). To achieve that, it is best to base our system on Earth values and change the numbers in a consistent manner (such as multiplying everything by three) and using different terms. Besides, even on Earth, rates differ from one place to another. A townhouse in a nice neighborhood might get $500k in one locality, while the money buys a large single-family home with yard and pool in another. No one from our planet is going to show up and tell us we’re wrong. All of this applies to SF as well, except that we have even greater leeway due to tech that has never existed here. No one can say how valued it would really be.

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Relative Value in Currency

We should strive for simplicity in our monetary system, especially in terminology.

Using the U.S. as an example, for paper money, bills come in 1, 2, 5, 10, 20, 100, and 1000. But there’s only one name for all of them: “dollar.” And yet “dollar” really describes “one” accurately. If I give someone a $100 bill, that’s how I say it: “one hundred dollars.” Unless I specify which bills I gave, you have no idea what configuration of bills I used. Now imagine that that $100 bill has a name, dellium. Then I could say, “one dellium.” The problem here is that the audience has no idea that a dellium is one hundred of something else. Explaining it is a poor use of exposition, it won’t be remembered, and it doesn’t convey a sense of relative value to other terms we’ve invented and which the audience also doesn’t recall. Using a specific generic term is convenient.

What about coins? Unlike with bills, each coin may have a name (penny, nickel, dime, and quarter) but they can all be referred to with the generic “cents.” And that’s exactly what people do. I might give someone “seventy-five cents,” not say that I gave them “three quarters.” Someone not familiar with the U.S. system can infer that a quarter is the one valued at 25 cents, but only because I specified that the three quarters amounted to seventy-five. By contrast, if I say I provided three nickels, do you know if that’s three times one ($.03), three times five ($.15), or three times ten ($.30)?

We don’t want to do this to an audience. Therefore, two generic words, such as “dollars” and “cents,” one denoting whole and another for part of a whole, provide a better sense of relative value and is preferred for fictional monetary systems. Avoid inventing names for denominations (i.e., “penny,” “dime”). If we really want to, we can, but use them wisely when writing. For example, “Seeing the price was fifteen cents, he pulled three nickels from a pocket.” Contrast that with, “Seeing the price, he pulled three nickels from a pocket.” The second tells us nothing about how much he’s paying unless we know the value of the denomination; our knowledge of it is required (italics) to understand. The first tells us what he’s paying, with a minor detail of how he did so as an option.

With this in mind, we can decide coins, gems, or bills have names and values but still default to generic terms like “dollars” and “cents” to indicate relative value, only rarely specifying which coins, gems, or bills someone used. Or we can just go with two generic terms and be done.

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Currency Conversion

When we move between economies/powers, we must convert our money from one currency to another. Several factors influence conversion rates, including differentials in inflation and interest rates, account deficits between countries (how much they owe each other), public debt, trade terms, and economic performance. Does this sound like something an audience wants to read about, or something we want to determine for not one, but two fictional sovereign powers? Probably not. It’s reasonable to desire getting it “right,” but as is often the case, many details impact this and no one from our fictional world is going to show up and say we’re wrong.

Do we need to show conversion and rationales in our work? Not usually. If we’re doing a story with sovereign powers having just risen or fallen, or other dramatic changes within our tale, then it’s obvious that currency could be disrupted, especially for units of value backed by the government, but most of us can skip it. We don’t typically know why our own dollar is rising or falling and audiences certainly won’t understand what’s happening on a fictitious planet, especially if we don’t tell them. Explaining can actually get us accused of having done research and then dropping it into our narrative.

The conversion arguably matters less with units of weight, like gold, because its size and rarity don’t change. But it might be differently valued in one place. The exchange is typically transaction by transaction and decided between merchant and customer, as opposed to units of value, where the exchange rate is set by the sovereign power or other governing body and changes by the day (on Earth). A merchant must abide by it, and so do we and our characters. It’s simplest to have a character express a reaction to how far their money is going and not focus on details. Being consistent matters less than other subjects because rates change daily anyway.

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Creating Currency

We have multiple options for currency and, just like on Earth today, more than one might exist within a single sovereign power, not to mention the world.

Trading

Trading means providing two pigs for one chicken, for example, rather than two pigs for a unit of value or weight. It is the oldest form of exchange. While areas of our world may do this, most will be more sophisticated. Nomadic tribes and less technological cultures may not have developed currency or the means to produce it, meaning manipulation of ore into metal. They may not have manufactured swords, for example. Later in this chapter, we’ll look at determining the value of items, but it’s mostly about supply and demand.

A fictional world means imaginary supply and demand, so we can invent this and never be wrong. That said, an animal that repeatedly produces a commodity, whether wool, milk or eggs has value beyond its own body, which can be used for meat, bone, and more, so take this into account. A plant that can be duplicated (with seeds, for example) is similar. Skilled labor to produce a long-lasting or superior item is also more valuable than, for example, a ram’s horn that only had to be broken off a dead ram.

If rams are common, I might need to give you five of their horns for the tanned leather hide you made from a bear. But if ram horns are used to signal in battle and few rams are around, maybe I’m giving you one horn for two hides. A word of explanation like this adds believability and can be invented in the time it takes to write the sentence. Just be consistent: don’t show a hugely different number of rams existing four chapters later.

Metal

Coins have been used as money since antiquity. For fantasy worlds, this is our default currency. Long ago, metal had its value because of weight, quality, and material (like 2 oz. of 14k gold). It relied less on a trade valuation at banks and could be melted down and still have [almost] the same value. A sovereign power minted coins in a standardized process to ensure the weight, then stamped them with an official insignia to establish trust in the coin’s value. One reason is that metals can be impure by accident or on purpose, whether the latter is intended to defraud the unsuspecting or to reduce the amount of precious metal used as money. This impurity can be checked by use of a touchstone, which is a stone tablet that reveals the alloy of soft metals when those are used to write on it.

In time, metal changed from being a unit of weight into one of value. In some countries, only one type of metal (like gold) was used, with different sizes denoting value. Separate regions have access to different quantities of precious metals. This could make things more realistic and more challenging when characters travel between kingdoms.

An issue with coins is their weight; no one carries around two thousand silver pieces, for example, even when they need to. Our world could have iron, copper, gold, and platinum, too. If one platinum equals a thousand silver, then they only need two coins, assuming they can find and exchange these. We may want a conversion like this example, using American money for clarity:

1 iron piece = 10 cents
10 iron pieces = 1 copper = $1
10 coppers = 1 silver = $10
10 silvers = 1 gold = $100
10 gold = 1 platinum = $1000

Coins are typically round for several reasons. The pointed edges of a square or rectangle will wear down with use, possibly lowering weight and therefore value, while also making the now irregularly shaped coin harder to stack. In production, coins were also struck, causing the metal to push outward in a circular shape, which made this a sensible form. A lucrative business could be had shaving off flat sides of a coin, thereby reducing the weight and value, though milling was added around the edge so that it’s easier to tell when the coin’s edge has been shaved (the milling would be gone). The absence of these indicates a less sophisticated culture.

Gemstones

Any gem can be used as money, but can they be a unit of weight? Probably not. How much a gem weighs (how many carats) doesn’t indicate value by itself because the quality can be so poor as to make it largely worthless. Few people have a specialized magnifier (“loupe”) or the training to identify a stone’s quality, making gems less viable as a unit of currency. If people can’t tell the quality, they’ll get manipulated during trading. Despite this, in antiquity, the naked eye was how all gems were appraised, so we can do this, too. Most gem deposits produce low quality stones that will never be fashioned into a jewel. The color and clarity are two elements that determine quality, which can be increased or decreased when the raw stone is carved into a jewel.

An underground race like dwarves would likely mine for gems and minerals, using either one a currency and easily converting values between them. Perhaps one diamond is the equivalent of one platinum piece. Would they have two currencies, or do they represent different spheres of social strata, such as royalty using gems and commoners using coins? A commoner caught with a gem coin might be assumed to be a thief. Maybe every dwarf is given a loupe at birth.

If gems are a unit of value instead, then low grade gems (like amber) can be inscribed with their denomination and function like metal coins. The gems could still be highly polished and look valuable to the naked eye. Even in antiquity, some gems were beautifully carved to show portraits of Roman emperors, including a garland of leaves with the leaf edges clearly visible. They won’t need milling because shaving down a jewel doesn’t produce useful shavings like it does with metal. The coins need not be round as wear on the edges is unlikely.

Compared to metal, gem coin denominations may challenge audience memories due to this being unusual in fiction and less familiarity with gem values on Earth, not to mention values in a fictitious world. By contrast, we all know gold, silver, and copper are progressively less valuable. Regardless, we can create and use a system like this one, with units of value:

 

Poor-Quality StonesHigh-Quality Stones1 amber = 10 cents

10 amber = 1 jade = $1
10 jade = 1 topaz = $10

10 topaz = 1 amethyst = $100

10 amethysts = 1 opal = $1000

 

1 pearl = 10 cents

10 pearls = 1 emerald = $1
10 emeralds = 1 sapphire = $10

10 sapphires = 1 ruby = $100

10 rubies = 1 diamond = $1000

Figure 16 Gems as Currency

Bills

Paper money is a unit of value and therefore requires trust and the backing of a bank and/or government. Sovereign powers may be too unstable or short lived for trust to develop paper currency, however. In fantasy worlds, the machinery to mass print paper has not usually been invented, but they can be done in smaller quantities by more physical means, just like coins. Paper money can be easily destroyed in fire, water, or by being torn, but it is easier to carry around in large sums than coins, and in some cases, gems. Keep bills simple, such as ones, fives, tens, and so on. Like some Earth countries, we can change the color per denomination. Bills are typically for larger numbers (dollars) than coins (cents), but there’s no reason this can’t be reversed. They can also be far smaller than what we have on Earth.

Credit

Just like today, SF worlds of comparable or superior technology to ours might have credit as currency. This requires official banking by a trusted source, whether a sovereign power on a planet (or elsewhere), a union of powers (possibly across worlds), or an institution that regulates the currency. Today we have bitcoin and other versions of credit, and we can invent more types, but unless we intend to delve into their usage (or the rise and fall of it), we should aim for simplicity. One choice to make is how people access and exchange credit. On Earth we use cards, devices like phones, and computers. What tech might be employed in our world? An iris or face scan? Fingerprints? DNA? An implant?

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Creating Monetary Systems

We sometimes need to understand how commerce works so we can show it with confidence. Two occasions are if we intend to show any transactions, or what characters need to do to acquire something they need. Without understanding how much an item costs, audiences have less understanding of characters’ actions. Are four hours of chopping wood enough to earn a meal, or a rip off? Glossing over it is an option, but showing it adds believability. Writers can experience starting to show a transaction because it feels natural given the unfolding scene, but then hesitate to depict the amount of money being exchanged. Working out commerce solves this.

But sometimes we don’t need it. We don’t need details on how commerce works to show whether someone is rich, poor or in between. Audiences accept that this happens in society. It’s optional to say their job is well or poorly paid, or they inherited wealth, or another factor, but not required. And if we’re writing a story where everything is free, or we have a society so barbaric that even trading one thing for another doesn’t happen, it won’t matter.  Otherwise, read on to learn how to determine commerce.

A Monetary System

One challenge of writing stories not taking place on Earth is that we can’t say characters are paying with dollars, Euros, or bitcoins. We need a monetary system or to ignore currency altogether. It’s standard in fantasy to use metal—platinum, gold, silver, copper, and iron coins—but gems and paper options exist. In SF, we can go with “credits” to keep it simple, even if we call it something else.

The money from a kingdom can and likely will have words and symbols on them, with characters reluctant to use those coins or bills at certain times if they might offend the receiver. Such items can be used to identity where they’ve recently been, too, though this is prone to misunderstanding; just because we have a coin from a kingdom doesn’t mean we’ve been there; but this depends on whether the item is a unit of weight or of value, as explained next. A unit of weight, such as a measured piece of gold, can be freely traded across kingdoms so that a coin could be in circulation anywhere and we just happened to get it in our last exchange, but a unit of value is specific to a sovereign power and therefore, possessing it does suggest we’ve been there. An example: if I have a Canadian dollar, I’ve probably been there, but if I have a gold piece from Canada, the value of gold transcends borders and doesn’t mean I’ve been there. I can’t use the Canadian dollar outside Canada, but I can use that gold piece; that it was minted in Canada means nothing, unless they have a reputation for dishonesty and/or the weight is off.

Units of Weight or Value

Money is either a unit of weight or unit of value. For example, paper money has no actual value except for the denomination printed on its surface, which spells out its value. Therefore, bills are a unit of value. On the other hand, the amount (or weight) of gold determines its value, even when fashioned into a coin. Metal is a unit of weight—but not always, because metal can have a value stamped onto it, rendering its weight irrelevant.

In media, we’ve seen someone handed a coin and then bite it to see if it’s really made of the material that it appears to be, like gold, or whether it’s only gold-plated. Alternatively, it may be placed on a scale. These matter when the coin is a unit of weight. But it could also matter with coins (of value) if two denominations are the same size. One could be stamped with the value of the other, in theory (counterfeiting). This may influence coins of different values having distinct sizes, but that is done partly to make identification and usage easier. Weighing on a scale can also lead to cheating if improper counterweights are used. These factors can contribute to units of weight falling out of favor in more advanced, established societies.

When a government collapses, so does the value of its currency when it is a unit of value. That $100 bill in our hand may now be worth zero if its value was backed by a now defunct government. By contrast, gold is gold. Like other metals (or gems), its value is based on rarity in the world rather than by a sovereign power, and this seldom changes much if at all, which is why, on Earth, it’s considered a safe investment—it is largely immune to the impact of a government’s collapse. One reason to care about this is that a character who doesn’t believe a government will last is unlikely to visit a bank, hand over his gold (a unit of weight) in exchange for bills (a unit of value), and walk away feeling safe.

Doing so seems less likely in fantasy due to the less robust governments that may exist. This robustness, or lack thereof, impacts everything, including police for those robberies, laws and courts to punish offenders, and accountability, which government provides to ensure people believe their state will take care of them and that institutions like banks and other infrastructure work. But if we have an empire, a constitutional monarchy, or a long-established state (over a hundred years), the state may insure banks (just like modern ones on Earth) so that people trust them. This way, even if the bank is robbed, you’ll still get your money because that bank is liable for the theft.

In SF, the advances in technology (and cooperation) that make activities like space travel possible are likely predicated on sophistication that matches or rivals that of modern-day Earth. Units of value are more likely than units of weight. A collapsing government can cause a rush on financial institutions to transfer that money to an institution in a stable, foreign country, before the value is zero. These people can be gouged by unscrupulous nations or banks who know what to do with desperate people. This can be an excellent way to create a now poor character with a backstory in wealth.

If units of weight are still in use, there’s another complication in SF: the value of an ore like gold is based on its rarity. Discovering a new planet where a valuable ore is far more abundant can throw an economy into disarray as the value of that ore plummets. This is what typically happens when a new gold deposit is found: the value of all existing gold drops because greater abundance renders it less valuable. This should be a genuine fear of anyone whose fortune is in precious metals or gems. It’s easy to imagine that person being opposed to space exploration – unless they think they can control how much of that ore, found on another planet, makes it to them. If that new planet has civilizations on it, both economies could be disrupted. It’s unlikely that the planets have the same composition (or even extraction capabilities). It’s also unlikely that a single ore will be different in rarity. While economics isn’t a subject that excites, the potential financial disruption that newly discovered planets bring has been successfully overlooked by countless world builders who don’t want to worry about it, and audiences accept it because they haven’t thought about it, but we should. The introduction of germs and parasites between these two worlds has been featured more often.

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Creating Punishments

Inventing punishments is a fun aspect of world building, especially if we���re feeling sadistic. We have real world ideas to draw from and can create our own. We can decide later which punishments go with which crimes, but if we���re feeling poetic, we can devise penalties that teach a clearer lesson about breaking a specific law. There are typically more laws and crimes than punishments; for example, jail time is used for a wide array of offenses.

We don���t need to go overboard inventing punishments, especially ones we aren���t going to use. If we invent some, we might benefit from one extreme, horrible, and memorable punishment and several much lesser ones. We want someone to react very seriously to being threatened with the terrible one. But lesser offenses and consequences are far more common, and our characters won���t take them seriously, just as a parking ticket is an annoyance and little more. These punishments offer a chance to show the presence of the law (and making our world seem more complete) in ways that don���t overtake a story.

Remember to imagine ways characters can resolve, avoid, or minimize a punishment. Sometimes we get a choice of a day in jail or paying a fine, for example. If we���re nice to an officer, maybe we get a warning instead of the ticket. In corrupt places, there���s always bribery. We���re always looking for a way out so give the characters known ways to minimize their punishment; they���ll be aware of them unless in a foreign land.

A basic decision is whether capital punishment (i.e., death) is accepted in the society. This is typically reserved for the most serious of offenses, such as murder, rape, treason, war crimes, crimes against the innocent (children), and more. When there is no feasible way to deter criminals from repeating a heinous crime, this led to the death penalty. For example, if we have a wizard who used magic to commit such a crime, and it���s possible to prevent them from doing magic ever again, capital punishment is unlikely (removing their access to magic will prevent a repeat). In a nomadic tribe, death may be more common due to the lack of prisons, but an established society with cities may have less need of it.

There are many ways to kill someone in state sponsored execution. The next table lists several:

 

TitleDescriptionBoiling AliveImmersed in boiling liquid of various kindsBlowing from a GunTied to the end of a cannon, which is then fired through the victim, blowing them to piecesBlood EagleWith the victim prone, the ribs are removed and placed to resemble wingsBrazen BullRoasted to death inside a brass bull with a fire underneathBreaking WheelTied to a wheel that slowly breaks all the bones, may slice the skin openBurning at the StakeBound to a stake and burned alive by a fire under and around a personCharivariParading an offender through the streets to mocking jeers of a crowdFlayingSkinning someone alive, which leads to slow deathHung, drawn, and quarteredDragged behind horse, hanged to near death, disemboweled (sometimes emasculated), beheaded, and finally cut into four pieces, head placed on a pike atop rampart wallsImpalement Vertically or horizontally shoving a sharpened stake into the body and leaving the victim hanging above the ground on the stakeKeelhaulingTied to ropes and dragged along rough/sharp bottom of shipMazzatelloA blow to the head knocks the victim out, the throat then slitSawingCutting someone in half with a sawSchwedentrunkForcing copious amounts of foul liquid via funnel into the victimSlow SlicingA literal death by a thousand cuts and removal of body parts

Exile is another option if value systems inhibit capital punishment.

To invent punishments, we use our imagination and the setting we���ve created to find uniqueness. People may be modified, such as with chemical castration for sexual crimes; a variant might be eliminating access to magic for wizards or have cybernetic implants removed (or added) in SF. If we���ve invented unique plants, animals, or locations, we can use them as punishment. The latter are especially useful for either banishment or temporary placement, like a jail. Merely being exposed to a phenomenon that we developed in chapter five (���The Supernatural���) might be useful. A plant may be harmful. An encounter with an animal likely to produce death can be used in a trial by combat. What if there���s a local monster no one can kill but they���re hoping someone can and criminals get the honor of trying? Succeed and go free. Otherwise���

These are ways we can leverage other world building creations. Assigning a punishment to a crime is a matter of matching severity. Harsh governments like an absolute monarchy maybe have the punishment not fit the crime, but others generally strive for fairness, even if what they���re doing makes questionable sense, as in the case of some trials by ordeal we previously examined. To people of that time, they were accepted and believed, and this will be true of most within such a society, so consider what this says (to our audience in particular) about how wise they are and their beliefs. As an example, if trial by water and sinking means innocence, the society believes it or wouldn���t be following this rule of law. Do we want our readers to roll their eyes about this, or our SF characters that arrive in a less advanced world? And is the idea of God saving the innocent true or essentially superstition? A SF character could scorn this only to discover that it���s true. Be sure to consider how our audience and characters will react to punishments they find in other lands.

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All About Trials

In Earth history, a few trial types warrant mention. We don’t mean the staid kind of today, where people calmly apply reason to presented evidence, but events like a trial by combat or ordeal. Some methods were thought to reveal the truth about the accused, even though they didn’t. Fighting was physical, of course, but imagine how those with unique powers, like wizards, might conduct these.

A specific form of proof for murders in the medieval period was cruentation, which involved making an accused murderer touch the corpse, which might start bleeding if pressed hard. This indicated guilt and seems ripe for manipulation by the wise (don’t press too hard and be exonerated!). We can leverage this to have the body react (or believed to) in different ways and for other crimes, especially with invented lifeforms, but be aware that audiences will typically scorn such beliefs as nonsense. They may feel contempt for a species or society that practices this, unless it’s true. As medical knowledge rose, specifically the understanding of how and when dead bodies naturally emit fluids; this fell out of practice because people realized it was bogus.

Duels

The goal of a duel was not to clear one’s name of a crime, but to restore honor besmirched by another. These were originally fought with swords before giving way to firearms; the former continues as the sport of fencing. In both cases, the weapons were to be similar. Established rules governed the engagement. Honor was restored in part by following these rules and by showing that honor meant enough to participants that they’d risk their life over it. Killing the other person was therefore not the goal and could actually harm the honor of the survivor. Laws against duels led to their elimination, so we should decide whether they’re still legal in our setting. Consider the values of each species and whether honor matters this much. They can duel in new ways or achieve “satisfaction” another way.

Trial by Combat

Trial by combat was essentially a duel that had been officially sanctioned, except that instead of honor being the issue, the defendant had been accused of a crime by the person whom they were to fight. This happened when no witnesses or evidence could clear up the matter. The fights took place in public and on special platforms for all to see, like a boxing ring without the ropes. Some were able to decline this combat due to handicap, age (young or old), or other factors that rendered the combat unequal. They were tried by jury instead. Priests or royalty might decline as well. If fighting a woman, men were hampered on purpose to improve equality, such as one arm tied behind the back. Another option was to choose a champion, someone to fight on behalf of the accused or accuser. We could do these if two species we’ve invented are unmatched physically.

If the defeated didn’t die in combat, he might be killed afterward, such as by hanging. In some Earth countries, depending on the crime, we could surrender when defeat was imminent, avoiding death but being dealt a harsh fate, such as slavery. World builders could extend this to include exile or, for a wizard, perhaps permanent removal of magical powers.

Trial by Ordeal

Variations on trial by ordeal exist and we can, of course, invent our own, especially if using animals or interesting places for them. Many tests were about survival, which indicated innocence, since God had saved the falsely accused. If there’s a real god of justice, maybe this trial is accurate (assuming he’s paying attention). This association with a deity led to these being carried out in church (maybe so he is paying attention!).

One version of a trial by fire was to walk several paces while holding a hot iron bar. Three days later, when the bandages were removed, an innocent person showed signs of healing while a guilty one didn’t. Walking over hot coals is a variant. We can raise the drama by using volcanoes or unnatural (magic) fire, even radiation in SF.

Ordeal by water can involve binding the hands and feet and being tossed into water; the guilty floated, the innocent sank. Either might die in the process, but a rope was tied to the accused to bring them up and prevent that. A variant involved retrieving a stone from the bottom of a boiling cauldron, the depth of which corresponded to the severity of the crime; those uninjured by this were innocent. Being submerged in cold water and surviving also indicated innocence.

We can substitute supernatural or scientific elements, such as harmful substances, radiation, or dark matter. If a species is naturally resistant to an element we’ve devised, this can be used as a test. We can use these Earth analogues as inspiration. There’s also no reason earth or air can’t be used, too. Maybe those who can survive being buried alive are innocent, or those deprived of oxygen. The latter seems obvious in space, assuming people are spacefaring and yet still this barbaric.

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Creating Incident Laws

Like the old saying, “shit happens.” And sometimes, the ruling authority creates a law to inhibit it from happening again. Examples include restrictions/permits on weapons, pollution, vehicles, building and infrastructure, and many more. What they have in common is an attempt at improving safety and life quality through prohibition. If a building fell down due to an earthquake, a new law may result in better materials being used. People driving too fast or while drunk leads to accidents, injury, and death, and therefore a slew of laws. Most of those aren’t particularly glamorous or useful to us and, while they’ll exist, we don’t need to focus on them. We should focus on what’s different about our invented world (magic, tech, lifeforms) and the resulting laws we need to envision.

With technology we’ve invented, imagine what can go wrong and create incidents proving it. The result can be a character using a weapon that’s not up to code because it was invented before a law, and possession and use of it is now illegal, either back home or where they are now. They might be upset to find it confiscated, then even destroyed by the local authority. Magic can lead to many laws, especially if we’ve decided that our magic system includes the ability for failed spells to still do something (see chapter six).  This is a great way to invent small stories, minor characters who were involved (and for whom a law may be named, officially or colloquially), places of interest (where it happened), and some history.

Examples of laws inspired by incidents (with explanations in parenthesis):

Black magic is forbidden (it leads to unsavory beings in town and the resulting problems they bring)Goblins are not allowed near a treasury (they robbed several in the neighboring kingdom)Children may not undertake interstellar travel unless accompanied by an adult or guardian (kidnapping risk)Ogres are not allowed in public baths (they’re disgusting and cause evacuation)Children may not perform magic (they are too undisciplined)Interstellar travel is only permissible on “Class 5” vessels or above (others are obsolete and do not work with modern docking stations)All residents must pass a biannual swimming test, especially dwarves (over a hundred couldn’t be rescued in the last flood and many non-dwarves also perished due to resources diverted to dwarves’ rescue)A federal work authorization permit from Earth is permitted to be employed on Mars (illegal immigrants are taking jobs)Inciting Thor’s wrath is punishable by death (Thor destroyed a city the last time someone provoked him)

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