Is it too late to pick an alphabet without an X? Yes? Damn.
So, the story I’m working on–the one I’m sharing, piece by piece, on this blog–is about a universe that is rebuilding after a long and expensive war. The primary setting for the story is the planet that won the war. It’s a planet that is facing a huge influx of refugees from other parts of the universe. Some of them are from allied planets, and others are from the vanquished planets. (The Empire refers to these as the “Penitent Planets.”)
It might be worth mentioning that the war–which has been over for a little over two decades–started with a rumor, and a misunderstanding, and just a little bad math.
It’s much too late to fix that, now.
My characters are moving forward with the results, whether they want to, or not.
So, Xenophobia… The fear of things which are foreign. Foreign people, foreign things.
Xenophobia is believing your new neighbor doesn’t have a soul, because your species is psychic, his isn’t, and you can’t pick him up in the ether.
Xenophobia is hating your new neighbor just because of the way his exoskeleton clicks when he’s molting.
I could probably keep going, but my internet’s in and out, right now. It’s not crazy about the weather we’ve been having.