Telaraña

Telaraña

Telaraña is one of the continents of Gaia. Though what it is is not entirely analogous to anything on Earth, the closest equivalent is probably that of a jungle, seeing as the majority of the continent is covered in flora and thickly infested with fauna. Telaraña doesn’t have trees, however, nor does Gaia in general (with the exception of what was brought and planted by the expedition). Instead, the flora on Telaraña consists of a multitude of smaller, plant-like organisms (cell structure differs but they do perform photosynthesis) and then a truly remarkable macro-organism.

This macro-organism covers the majority of the continent (the north-eastern quarter isn’t dry but isn’t wet enough), and consists of a series of vine-like masses forming a canopy, joined at several points — the vines are as thick as a human being even in the area outside the core where it’s somewhat sparse, and capable of supporting itself. What makes the organism even more remarkable is that though it doesn’t have any sort of mind, its homeostatic capabilities are such that its vines shift and adjust themselves to keep the organism in prime position both for structural integrity and photosynthesis. Telaraña derives its name from this organism, as a Bolivian member of the original expedition commented that the canopy stretching overhead looked like a spiderweb.

There are a multitude of small outposts and drone data collection points throughout the “jungle” on Telaraña — though much moreso through the outer two thirds of it than the core, as the large presence of the vine organism leads to heat and moisture to a level extremely destructive to equipment and hard to live in. For those living in these outposts, the distant sounds of creaking and of the groan of moving plant-like mass are ever-present background noise, paired with the occasional darkening of the light levels as a vine moves to take in that sun.

The largest of these outposts, Grande Bleue (the vine mass is usually red but depending on the area its color can change, here it is blue), is still only a few hundred people — but for the typical Gaian research post, this is massive. It sits underneath a dome-like swell in the vine canopy, providing an excellently clear area for research work. Not only does more sunlight get through, but the height of the canopy ensures that more of the ground-area is clear and there’s ample room for data collection and living slash storage space... even if precautions need to be taken to avoid the vines that occasionally slip from the dome and later reinsert themselves from demolishing buildings on the ground. Furthermore, Grande Bleue is a hub for harvesting of industrially useful organics formed by millions of years of undisturbed decay of the local life — and aside from fossil fuels and materials for plastics, chemicals with fascinating properties (what’s recoloring the macro-organism, in fact) have been found here because Grande Bleue is the site of where a putative macro-organism of another type that was snuffed out by the vine mass — but which gave rise to a fascinating little ecosystem.

As the continent moves to the northeast, it cools down and becomes slightly dryer, and the vine organism becomes sparser and sparser as the climates it thrives in cease to dominate. Eventually, it gives way to plains, a mostly bare area of land dotted with some of Gaia’s flora, and then to grasslands — *actual* grasslands, of invasive Earth grasses brought by the expedition filling a niche not filled in Telaraña’s native ecosystem, which is a cause of significant and heated debate among the biologist community on Gaia. Eventually, it reaches the inhabited cape of this area, where crops and small villages dot what can actually be a countryside — Gaia’s population isn’t remotely enough to need a massive farmland, but it does need SOME, and the Telarañan plains carry Gaia’s only agricultural centers, which also provide industrial crops.

Eventually, one reaches the most populous settlement on Gaia outside of the continent where most of its residential areas sit: Point Choi, named affectionately after original expedition energy scientist Choi Do-yun by his colleagues after he declared “I’m stopping here, you fuckers couldn’t get me to go back into that hot, vine-infested hellhole for the rest of my life for a trillion fucking credits!” Point Choi is in an ideal position, because it’s the only large natural harbor on Telaraña that isn’t overgrown by the vine organism — and the research, agriculture, and fuel work that go on in Telaraña has created a surprising amount of shipping here, especially as Point Choi holds the continent’s primary airport/droneport as well. The temperate climate here is incredibly pleasant as well, and when given the chance to either remotely work via drone or to go into a hot, humid vine jungle... well, many expedition members made Choi Do-yun’s decision, and it’s only grown from there.

Point Choi has actually become so prominent that it provides an ongoing, firsthand example of the processes that led to the regionalization of the residential continent. Though the more bureaucratic side of the technocracy holds much more solid, metered control over outposts like Grande Bleue, Point Choi is large enough that commercial interests, relatively civilian scientific interests, and the interests of the community government and population themselves create a wildly conflicting political sphere, where one can usually bullshit their way into following the directives of whatever chain of command best works for them. It’s a process causing snarls, though it seems like the local and commercial interests are likely to win out in the end.

The Gaian Planetary Research Center is located several miles to the south of Point Choi (on the other end from most of the agricultural areas) — close enough for really dedicated protestors and scientists to take transport to and from the settlement when done work/throwing bricks. The reasons for this location vary: the GPRC needed to be somewhere where it could be adequately supplied and ideally not somewhere where they’d have to make exceptional logistical efforts to do so, but it also needed to be somewhere where a truly horrendous spacetime fuckup wouldn’t risk wiping out a frightening portion of Gaia’s already low population. The fact that it’s really really nice in that area of the continent’s grasslands helped get the scientists’ recommendation as well.