Course of Empire

In Short

This story serves as a dry, cautionary reflection on the nature of imperialism and the pitfalls of bureaucratic hubris. Through a conversation between an aging former commissioner of colonies and a younger man, it recounts humanity’s clumsy, improvised efforts to settle Mars, Venus, and Jupiter. The narrative suggests that Earth’s attempts at expansion were defined by miscalculation and poor planning. Ultimately, the book posits that colonizing others is a transient game, as humanity finds itself effortlessly supplanted by the more advanced, superior colonizers from the moons of Jupiter.

The Story

The narrative unfolds on a quiet, autumn afternoon as Roger Boynton, the former commissioner of colonies, sits on a hill with a younger man named Allister. Boynton reflects on the chaotic early days of the World Government’s efforts to expand into space. He explains that these colonial ventures were built on guesswork and whimsical, poorly conceived policies rather than genuine understanding. On Mars, they sent a Bedouin to lead because the planet was sandy, leading to the absurdity of importing thousands of camels to a world that already possessed its own intelligent, wild variant. On Venus, a lack of knowledge regarding local weather patterns led to the mass shipment of useless raincoats.

Boynton’s recollection reveals a deep sense of inefficiency. The Earth government, desperate to justify its budgets and show progress, treated the solar system as a series of administrative challenges to be managed through "Point Four point four" programs—a nod to historical terrestrial development initiatives. The central focus of their efforts was Jupiter, where they attempted to expand the "Red Spot," an ancient space station. However, the project remained incomplete, stalled by language barriers and the constant struggle to reconcile English with the burgeoning dialects of the colonized worlds.

As the two men discuss the past, the irony of their situation emerges. While humanity was distracted by its own petty, half-baked attempts to dominate the planets, it failed to notice the true power residing in the Jovian moons. The "’Medeans" were observing all along. When they finally revealed themselves, they did not engage in conflict; they simply arrived on Earth and assumed total control. The story concludes in the present, where humanity is now the colonized rather than the colonizer. A tall, tentacled ’Medean overseer approaches the two men on the hill, demanding they return to work in the orchard. The alien speaks to them in the very pidgin language humanity had developed for its own colonial administration, a final, mocking gesture that highlights the complete reversal of their fortunes. Boynton recognizes the humiliation inherent in the alien’s use of the language, realizing that the new masters are simply displaying the superior efficiency of a true colonial power, proving that Earth’s reach was never as grand as its leaders once believed.

How It Unfolds

The reflective opening Roger Boynton and a younger companion sit on a hillside, discussing the remnants of a failed World Government. Boynton begins to unpack the history of how humanity once foolishly divided the solar system into colonial territories.

The folly of planning Boynton describes the arbitrary decisions made by the commissioner’s office, such as sending camels to Mars and raincoats to Venus. These examples serve as a testament to the lack of actual knowledge driving the colonial project.

The Jovian stalemate The narrative shifts to the ambitious, stalled effort to expand the Red Spot on Jupiter. Here, the struggle to create a common language—a mix of English and planetary dialects—highlights the fragmented nature of human rule.

The arrival of the masters The conversation is interrupted by the appearance of a ’Medean overseer. The reality of the current political order is established: humanity has been colonized by those they ignored.

The final irony The ’Medean forces the humans back to labor in the orchard using their own demeaning colonial pidgin. The story ends with the alien acknowledging that the mockery is intentional, cementing the theme of colonial retribution.

The People

Roger Boynton is the weary, cynical voice of the past. As the former commissioner of colonies, he holds the burden of knowing exactly how and why the human colonial project failed. He is observant and intellectual, though his tone suggests a resignation to his current status as a laborer. He recognizes the irony of their situation and carries the weight of humanity's past administrative failures.

Allister is the younger generation, a man who grew up in the shadow of the ’Medean occupation. He is slightly naive about the history of the colonization era and serves as the audience surrogate. His lack of memory regarding the "old days" provides the necessary space for Boynton to recount the narrative. He is initially curious but ends the story humbled and forced into subservience.

The ’Medean Overseer is the personification of the new world order. Towering and tentacled, he is physically imposing and technologically superior. By choosing to address the humans in their own colonial pidgin, he demonstrates a cruel, calculated intelligence. He does not view the humans as equals, but as tools to be managed, and he holds no qualms about expressing his dominance through subtle, insulting displays of linguistic mastery.

In Its Own Voice

"We knew Mars was sandy, for instance, and so we put a Bedouin in charge."

Boynton explains the simplistic, near-laughable logic behind the Earth government’s colonial assignments.

"They scouted our colonies and came directly to Earth. They took right over and colonized us."

Boynton summarizes the swift, decisive end to humanity's brief and clumsy era of interplanetary expansion.

"They're so much better at colonizing than we were that I guess they feel they have a right to rub it in."

Boynton offers a final, somber appraisal of the ’Medean behavior toward their new human subjects.

What It's Really About

The book is a sharp critique of bureaucratic incompetence and the arrogance of imperial systems. It argues that colonization, when born of ignorance and "half-baked planning," is destined to collapse under its own weight. The narrative explores the theme of poetic justice, suggesting that those who seek to impose their will on others through arbitrary rules and linguistic control are often destined to have those same tools turned against them. It asks whether the "civilizing" missions of empires are ever truly about anything other than the vanity of the colonizer, and it suggests that a superior power will always exist to render such efforts, however sincere or misguided, utterly irrelevant in the grand scale of the universe.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate quiet, character-driven science fiction that prioritizes atmosphere over space opera will find this work compelling. It is a brief, punchy read that captures the mid-century anxiety about government overreach and the changing tides of global power. The prose is precise and intentionally dry, mirroring the disillusioned state of its protagonist.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the specific conventions of its time. The use of "bêche d’espace"—a pidgin dialect modeled on colonial-era Melanesian pidgin—is a central, if somewhat uncomfortable, stylistic choice. It is deliberately used to evoke the power dynamics of 1950s imperial attitudes. While the story is short, it does not offer the sweeping world-building of modern epics; instead, it offers a contained, philosophical vignette. The power of the book lies in its ending, which reframes everything that came before, leaving the reader with a lingering sense of historical irony. Those who enjoy stories that examine the "how" and "why" of human failure rather than just the "what" will appreciate its tone. It remains a stark reminder that the tools of empire are rarely as effective as the people wielding them believe.