Alex Jablokov discusses how soil restoration efforts in Iceland, as well as his own gardening hobby, helped inspire “Ecobomb,” his latest story from our [Jan/Feb issue, on sale now!]
My story “Ecobomb” had several titles over the course of its composition, but really only one structure, covering roughly a century from the stealth beginning of an alien invasion to its final culmination.
That structure is threefold:
- The history of a family working to adapt to the transformation their environment undergoes during that time
- Vignettes of people around the world facing their own challenges during specific moments over that same time period
- The point of view of several low-ranking members of the alien invasion fleet as they approach and finally land on Earth
I’ve always wanted to write an alien invasion story, one of the ur-stories of our genre, but never had anything come to me.
Soil bombing and remote reforestation
Then I read a post on Geoff Manaugh’s BLDGBLOG, Soil-bombing Iceland. The delicate environment of Iceland was almost instantly heavily damaged by Viking settlement, and particularly by their sheep, which eat everything down to the roots. Within a couple of centuries, formerly verdant Iceland became the largest desert in Europe. Iceland isn’t very big, but then, Europe is not known for its deserts either.
Now that sheep are no longer the basis of the Icelandic economy, the Soil Conservation Service of Iceland is attempting to restore some of that lost environment by dropping packets of seeds and carefully chosen combinations of seeds to recreate long-vanished plant communities.
At least in 2005, they were using an old DC-3, seventy years after that model of airplane was first airborne. A couple of wrecked DC-3s from WWII are wannabe tourist sites, so maybe those tourists could get a sight of the same aircraft in action as a bonus of this “reterraforming” activity.
Manaugh discussed closely related topics in Tree bombs, and, a few years later, First-Strike Reforestation. Though he doesn’t post as often as he once did, Manaugh is consistently interesting and original.
Thoughts don’t usually strike me, but this one did: wasn’t this what an alien invasion force might do to soften up a planet preparatory to landing? By converting large parts of its biology to that closer to the invaders’ own, Earth would both be heavily damaged and more than halfway to their preferred ecology.
The place of gardening
The idea played into my own love of gardening. Flowers and leafy plants only—a few seasons of growing cracked $20 tomatoes and feeding the local rabbits, I decided to stick with things I like looking at.
So I’ve had my own encounters with definitions of weeds, native species, and invasives, and the debates around them.
An early experience involved a flowering vine called convolvulus, field bindweed, and creeping jenny. The species name is Convolvulus arvensis. It is related to the morning glory and has similar, if smaller, flowers. When it first appeared in my garden, I thought it was pretty, kind of a gift, and let it spread. Isn’t “weed” just an arbitrary designation, after all?
It’s a bit like accepting an offer of a backrub from the Boston Strangler. It quickly spread everywhere, tied itself around all my other flowers, and, in the evening darkness, insinuatingly asked me where I sleep. Plus, the flowers aren’t really that great.
Like most such aggressive plants, including the Japanese knotweed that has taken over here in eastern Massachusetts, it has deep, hard-to-dig-up roots, and seeds profusely. Eventually, I got it out. Your vision for your garden always has to work with the inclinations of your plants, your soil, your water, and your sunlight, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have the right, actually the duty, to make choices.
The gardeners in “Ecobomb” are better at it than I am, but then, they are fighting for survival against invasives even more aggressive than the vine I see the USDA Forest Service says is sometimes also called “devil’s guts” (PDF). I’m only trying for a pleasant place to sit in the afternoon and read a book.
Sometimes you have to forcefully show someone that they should go and cultivate their garden somewhere else, and leave you to yours.
From Earth to the Stars 