Planetary Photo Index (Public Access Feed)

From a distance, Decanisora cut a rather impressive figure. His tall, athletic build—lean though it was—stood out clearly against the mountain in the rays of the rising sun. And the huge backpack he carried over his shoulders with almost casual ease could easily give an uninitiated passerby all kinds of unsettling thoughts in this remote mountainous wilderness. But Tekonwatonti knew him very well, so she waved both hands energetically for him to notice her. He noticed, and adjusted his course toward the camp. “How do you feel after the climb?” she asked. “Fantastic. But next time I’m really going to think twice about how many telephoto lenses I bring with me.” Tekon burst into bright laughter. “See, I’m the clever one. I only brought a wide-angle. I can survive a few days with that.” The young man glanced around. “Where’s everyone else? Haven’t they arrived yet?”

“Oh, they got here yesterday. But on the way up, they spotted an abandoned mountain laboratory and headed there this morning to add it to the global photo catalog.”

“Good for them. Means I didn’t haul all this glass up here for nothing. Every time I think maybe we should hold the next meetup somewhere flatter. But then I remember this place being hard to reach has its advantages. No gawkers, for one. Only the truly dedicated make it here.”

“That’s enough talking. I made you something to eat. Fresh off the fire.”

Decanisora thanked her and happily dug into the hot, fragrant sausages fried with onions.

“By the way, I found these onions here on-site,” said Tekonwatonti.

“Let’s hope they’re edible,” Decanisora winked.

“You two really don’t waste time,” a voice suddenly came from behind them.

It was Publius and Priya, cameras hanging from their necks and tripods slung over their shoulders.

“You two look majestic,” Tekanisora said without missing a beat.

Over their shared breakfast, the four of them discussed how they would spend the next few days of the gathering there in the mountains.

“Let’s start with the fact that even though the ‘Cover Earth with Photographs’ project has already been running for several years, this place, for example, turned out to have almost no photos at all,” said Publius. “Did you like it here, Priya?”

The young woman grew flustered at the sudden attention.

“Yes. It’s beautiful. The morning was beautiful.”

“I dream of the moment when every square meter of Earth can be viewed online in its own separate photograph,” Publius continued.

“Isn’t that a bit much?” Decanisora wondered aloud.

“Of course not.” Publius was already getting worked up. “What was the point of starting all this otherwise? Throughout thousands of years of human history, there was no such thing as private property on Earth. If you had the strength to reach a place, you reached it. But that’s not even the point. The real question is whether society benefits from it. And I’m absolutely convinced it does. It’s like medicine—it’s good to know what’s happening in every cell of an organism. Society is one organism too. And all of us citizens are adults. All that remains is to use our rights. Completely within the law.”

“Can’t even ask a question anymore,” Decanisora joked. “Take it easy.”

“It’s fine.” Publius smiled. “Things are going well. More and more people are joining the project. Sure, I understand some of the dissatisfaction from the so-called local little kings. But that’s fine too. In the end it’ll benefit them as well.”

“I had a case like that a few days ago,” Decanisora laughed. “I was already on my way here when among all the ordinary houses I suddenly spot this miniature palace. So I think, why not make it famous? But the owner turned out to be shy, apparently. Couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that there’s a special law allowing anyone to photograph any meter of Earth’s surface and publish it publicly. Still, I managed to snap one corner of his estate. You’ll see it in the catalog later.”

“You guys are hardcore.” Priya raised a thumbs-up. “We girls have our own methods. Softer ones.”

“You be careful out there.”

“We will.”

“There’s still plenty of public space left to add to the catalog—parks, forests, roads, shops, factories, plants…”

“I wouldn’t be so certain about the last ones,” Tekonwatonti added. “You never know where you might fall. Otherwise you’d have laid down some straw first.”

“Honestly, it’s wonderful that this bill finally came into force across the whole Earth,” Publius said, leaning one hand against the mountain slope already warmed by the sun, while holding a fragrant drink in the other.

“To universal openness!” He raised his glass in a toast.

“Speaking of openness,” Decanisora began, “I stopped by a library in the little town down below the mountain, and they already have an entire display dedicated to atomic energy development. Must be some local enthusiast who’s decided to build a small nuclear power station.”

“I have a feeling a lot of changes are waiting for us,” Tekonwatonti said dreamily, gazing into the distance beyond the mountain peaks.

“I’m sure they are,” Priya replied, nudging her friend lightly with her shoulder. “Though the first thing waiting for us is that storm over there.” She pointed in the direction opposite Decanisora. “So we’d better hurry up and seal everything before the rain hits.”

Everyone sprang into motion at once, quickly and efficiently packing and sealing their gear with practiced movements before stowing it inside the tents. Or rather, inside one shared tent they had assembled by linking their individual tents together like modules.

And under the protection of the ultralight yet ultra-durable spider silk fabric—which made the tents nearly invisible from the outside—they synchronized their navigation devices with the updated planetwide database.

The main display was Decanisora’s holographic projector. Against the dark backdrop of the cloud-covered sky, visible through the tent wall that was transparent from the inside, it was exceptionally convenient to examine and analyze. They controlled it by pressing floating buttons in midair and flipping through pages with gestures in the same open air.

“Not bad,” Publius admitted with reluctant skepticism. “Still, the tried and true is always best.”

He pulled out what looked like an ordinary scroll, covered in ordinary but neatly structured writing.

“Ha,” Decanisora said with a hint of irony. “An ordinary scroll, huh? Let me hold it.”

He took it—and let go.

The scroll remained suspended in midair.

“Very ordinary indeed, right?”

“I may have borrowed a few technologies from certain manufacturers,” Publius replied reluctantly.

“And do they know about that?”

“That’s a different question.”

“Let’s get to work,” the two young women interrupted, joining the discussion with their own projection communicators.

And so, to the steady drumming of the rain, the four of them carefully studied the surrounding territories, marking every square meter not yet included in the Open Public Photo Index of the Planet.