Off Earth

Spare parts and handshakes

March 2, 2018 By K. D. McAdams

Grep didn’t mind being on the Lowell. With all she knew about science and technology it still amazed her that the standard twenty degrees environmental here felt warmer than it did at Lagrange-4.

What amazed her more was the size of the ship being constructed just outside. There were limits to the scale of construction for a ship that would approach two tenths of light speed, but knowing them and seeing them were different things.

“They plan to burn the thrusters for something like forty years.” Burt explained needlessly.

“They’ll be accelerating for almost half a lifetime.” She observed.

“And cruising for the other half. Some of them are hoping their grandchildren will experience the deceleration and their great grand children will touch the surface of a new planet.” Her host here on the Lowell was no less impressed even though he was around the project every day.

Grep wasn’t sure that sounded humane. Her boss, and friend, Tanner Nazca was born on a long range cruiser. They had just finished a ten year burn when the event happened and Tanner turned the ship around.

What if a similar event happened forty or fifty years out? Anyone deciding to turn the ship around wouldn’t even be alive when it returned to Earth.

That was probably the point. After Tanner turned their ship around and came back the financial backers realized how easily an entire investment could be lost. They had to send the craft and crew far enough away that turning the thing around offered no benefit to those making decisions.

“Probably the most advanced cruiser ever built. And you guys want ten thousand salvaged connectors to complete construction?” Grep asked.

The only reason she flew over here was that the request was so preposterous. They went back and forth electronically, held numerous video conversations but neither side could convey their need.

“Projections show that the vibration from the thrusters will be incredibly minor, but after about thirty consistent years of it several sections of wire will be damaged. The engineering AI found these connectors in an old data base and said they would provide the wires with another fifteen years of life.” Burt maintained his faith in the automated system.

It didn’t surprise her that a human derived AI had developed a human like flaw.

“Those connectors have never been salvaged as independent parts. They’re all fastened to a larger circuit board.” She explained her side of the equation.

“So take them off.” Burt shrugged his shoulders.

He was probably told by the AI that this was the solution. Obviously he didn’t consider the cost or effort to remove a cheap connector from a cheap circuit board. It wasn’t cheap.

“They were fastened with an epoxy that is extremely durable. Our efforts to separate the parts have been labor intensive for poor quality results. Why don’t you double the wire shielding to get more life out of it?” She did not want to be responsible for their engineering job but couldn’t help the question.

“That much extra coating over that many wires would require a complete redesign of the ship. Everything was laid out to millimeter precision.” Burt admonished her.

Grep held her tongue. If that was true, how were they planning to fit connectors into that space? This was not her problem. She was here to make sure they could sell them something they could deliver.

Scrolling up on her display, Grep reviewed some notes. One of the disassembly bots predicted it could learn to generate a clean finished connector consistently after five hundred to seven hundred and fifty trials. With only ten-thousand-one-hundred-eighty-nine pieces on hand they would not be able to deliver ten-thousand finished parts.

Destroying all the assemblies and not selling one of the piece to Off Earth Manufacturing would leave them with two pieces no one wanted. At least when they were together they could sell a handful to Off Earth Repair and Maintenance for their refurbishment jobs.

“We cannot supply the full order. Would you be willing to accept ninety percent of the units and we’ll take a point or two off the final price?” She extended an offer.

“The proposal was for ten thousand plus, not plus or minus. I’m sure there will be some installation errors and losses. Ninety percent is not an option.” Burt emphasized their request.

“Well, good luck then. We’re out.” Grep hated to walk away from revenue but she knew better than to risk an order they were bound to fail.

“You cannot be out. This project will not be delayed. I’m sure you understand how tightly managed the ages of passengers and crew are. Even a one year delay could cause massive changes in their status. They’ve been planning this departure for fifteen years.” Burt looked scared.

Grep tried to imagine a five year old on the living room floor down on Earth. For her birthday she received an envelope that told her they would be sending her on a one way mission to deep space when she turned twenty-two. The rest of her life would be spent with people convincing her that she was lucky and this was a good thing.

No one would ever mention that there were other choices. Stay on Earth or in orbit and learn a trade. Wait until you’re eighteen and make your own decision about what you find interesting and what you want to study.

Those who were older and had either taken or passed on their chance to follow their bliss were less concerning. A thirty year old signing on to manage some mundane task on a ship barreling into the great void of deep space was fine. Stupid, but fine.

The seniors on the flight would be so old and so far from Earth by the time they realized what a mistake they had made it wouldn’t matter.

“Why don’t you manufacture the pieces?” Grep realized that they had missed the obvious.

Burt was silent. He carefully looked at his tablet and scanned some piece of information.

“Burt?” She prodded.

“Our capacity won’t meet demand. And we’d have to delay another project that has better revenue impact.” He conceded.

This was the kind of thing that drove Tanner crazy. It was also the type of thing that would get Burt fired if anyone found out he told her.

As was often the case the toughest engineering problem was made so due to artificial human constraints. She had an idea that was a little risky, but just the kind of chance Tanner liked to take.

“We’ll sell you ten thousand finished connectors with a condition. You need to send us seven-hundred-and-fifty that meet your design specs. We don’t want to run the risk of sending you something that won’t be approved.” She hoped he was too nervous about the project to see how she was trying to leverage them.

“I don’t have seven-fifty to send you.” He protested.

“Make them. The only way you’re getting out of a huge penalty for failure to deliver is if you take a small revenue hit on that other project and make some samples.” She pushed.

The small conference room fell silent. Burt was considering the offer and she hoped he would take it.

“If I send you two-fifty to start will you begin working? I’ll send another two fifty a month later and the final two fifty in the third month?” He countered her proposal.

It didn’t really matter when he sent them, as long as they arrived before she was due to send the final shipment. Grep fully expected that the last connectors delivered to the Lowell would be units that had been manufactured there anyway.

“Our quality control could damage a few units. I’ll need the first fiver hundred in the first month, you can spread them out however you like. The final two-fifty need to be delivered in the second month. We’re not going to drive urgency if you guys don’t deliver on your side of the project.” Grep hoped this wasn’t tool aggressive.

Burt did not respond immediately. He was working on his tablet moving numbers and playing with dates. She let him work as a small smile crept across her lips.

“One hundred a week for the first five weeks and the final two-fifty on week ten.” Burt announced after several minutes.

“Deal,” Grep extended her hand.

They shook and both parties leaned back in their chairs.

With all their technology and science, business still came down to a cheap alloy connector and a hand shake. Perhaps the human element was still involved to keep everything at the right pace. If this negotiation had been turned over to the bots it would have been solved months ago. When problems moved out of the way departure dates started to come closer and people considered their second thoughts.

A piano in space

February 23, 2018 By K. D. McAdams

“Seriously Tanner?” Maddison asked from the door.

“What?” Tanner turned to see the frown on her face.

A piano in space made little sense. It had to be a remnant from the early days of cheap launch solutions. As humans transitioned away from liquid rocket boosters and high dollar per pound launch platforms engineers routinely sent awkward objects into orbit. Just to prove they could.

This was before the first space tourist tragedy and long before the event that started the First Orbital War. The engineers must have assumed that a hunk of wood, some thin wired and 88 plastic keys would orbit a few times and then burn up in the atmosphere.

It would have, if the cargo container functioned properly.

Malfunctions, mistakes and miscalculations were now the foundation of Off Earth Salvage. Most of the debris created during the first orbital war was now collected and processed. The bigger pieces were stored on the moon at the Off Earth Maintenance and Repair headquarters. Smaller pieces were still here on Lagrange-4 but a piano didn’t belong anywhere.

“Tell me you’re going to turn that into a wardrobe or a wet bar.” Maddison stepped further into his room.

“No. I’m going to restore it and learn to play.” Tanner answered factually.

[Read more…] about A piano in space

Update on release plans

February 19, 2018 By K. D. McAdams

Last week I mentioned that I was behind on the writing part of They Awake, the first book in my new Off Earth series. I had a solid writing week, but I’ve decided to shift the release date.

I didn’t want to release the book in the summer, as sales are often slow. But this years schedule is setup to support a new release every six weeks and I want to stick with that. They Awake Off Earth Series Book 1 is now scheduled for release on 7/6/2018.

My next new release is coming March 2, when Revelation book 6 of The Seamus Chronicles hits the stores. This is the last of the Seamus Chronicles books and I tried to tie some things up and get the survivors from Earth formally settled. The cover reveal is below.

After Revelation, my next two releases will be Dylan Cold novels, Deceptive Practices on April 13 and Frayed Shorts on May 25. Both books are written and have gone through revisions so I can send them off for final edits any time. I think of the Dylan Cold thrillers as more beach reads than the new Off Earth series, so you’ll have those to enjoy over the summer.

Plus, I wanted to make sure the new series is great. I did a lot of planning and prep work before sitting down to write so getting the words down in four weeks wasn’t outrageous, but I missed. The writing will be done this week, and then I’ll spend about two weeks on rewrites and revisions. After that I’ll send out some beta copies (if you’re interested in being a beta reader drop me a line kd@kd-mcadams.com).

For those following along for the numbers update on the Off Earth Series progress –

Book 1 – They Awake
Target release date – New date! 7/6/2018
Last weeks word count/target – 12,456/12,000
This weeks word count target – 6,500 words
Total words/projected – 88,695/95,000

Approaching the Lowell

February 16, 2018 By K. D. McAdams

Approaching the Lowell, Off Earth Manufacturing’s base of operations, was like flying into a puzzle. At the early stages of construction, trying to figure out where the station ended and the ship it was building began required careful inspection.

Maddison Holtz was still fascinated by how such a small thing could build the massive freighters and cruisers they had become known for. She knew that in a few months the ship they were building would dwarf the Lowell Station. Then the trick would be finding the station against the backdrop of a massive space fairing vessel.

Could this become her life? Off Earth Manufacturing was far more profitable than the Salvage operation she worked with now. Everything about the Lowell was nicer than living on the rock stationed at Lagrange-4. But there was something cold about the people and the environment.

Off Earth Salvage and the carved out asteroid they lived and worked in felt like home.

So why was she coming over here to interview for a job?

“Passengers are required to sit. Safety pods will be activated in fifteen seconds.” The artificial intelligence pilot announced over the speakers.

“Why are we activating safety pods?” Maddison asked while she sat.

The training was clear, if there is a need to activate safety pods, sit first and ask questions later. Safety pods were protected structures that sprouted out from the seats in the shuttle. Every ship had a different version but they all worked the same.

If there was a hull breach or any other environmental malfunction the safety pods would protect living cargo for anywhere from a few hours to three months. Technology would allow for humans to physically survive for longer than three months in a safety pod, but the mental effects were not desirable. It didn’t require reading more than one or two accounts of early safety pod survivors to understand the mental toll of being alone, drifting in the void of space.

“We detected an electro-magnetic pulse and models show that navigation will be impacted.” The A.I replied calmly.

“Why don’t you reverse course and avoid the EMP?” Maddison challenged.

She had no idea how old this pilot was or if it had encountered anything like this before. Having a data set of potential failures and evasive actions was great, but even computers needed experience to learn certain nuances.

Working with A.I. Instances every day, Maddison knew that some learned and reacted better than others. Some humans trusted the machines to be flawless, others understood that questioning any type of intelligence actually made it stronger. She had no problem questioning this instance.

“Evasive maneuvering offers less than a ten percent chance of efficacy.” The voice replied.

“What is the projected result of not taking evasive maneuvers?” She was getting a little upset with this one.

“Impact, in three minutes eight seconds.” It answered.

“And the projected result of impact?” Maddison cinched the belt on her seat tighter.

“Hull breach,” the worst case scenario was reported with no emotion.

This was not good. Hull breach was the A.I. equivalent of oh shit.

Working in salvage gave Maddison and all the other people stationed at Lagrange-4 an understanding of the reality of systems. They recovered enough transport ships and leisure cruisers with bodies tightly strapped into seats with safety pods activated.

For years the salvage bots reported bodies found back to the central systems. The central system did not maintain a field for the state of the body – living or dead. Safety pods were considered successful if they were located with a body inside.

A ripple effect from the data meant that testing parameters were skewed. New safety pods were constructed with the goal of keeping a body intact, not alive. Thousands were produced and placed into service.

It took a long time to teach the nuance between finding a body, living and finding a body, dead. Even longer was required to revamp the systems so that deployed safety pods were functioning to preserve life.

Most of that was before her time. But the impact of old ships not updated or updated with a new defect was seen all the time.

The shuttles were some of the oldest ships still operating.

“Hull breach is unacceptable. Take evasive action.” She commanded the machine.

Doing the math should have been easy. Why would the pilot instance not attempt a low likelihood evasive maneuver in favor of a high likelihood hull breach?

Because it wasn’t updated to preserve life.

Maddison had her own oh shit moment.

The safety pod built around her in a blur. A few inches in front of her face a monitor flickered and glowed. It was supposed to come on instantly with pressurization status and an exterior display.

“Computer, it is imperative that you preserve life. Protecting the body is insufficient!” Maddison screamed.

There was no response.

Could the ship even hear her through the protective cocoon?

The belts auto tightened and pulled her back into the seat. Her shoulder was slightly out of position and the alloy strap cut into her painfully. Drawing in a sharp breath to stifle a scream only served to increase her fear. It felt like there was not enough oxygen in the tiny chamber.

Releasing the fist that clenched in response to the pain, Maddison closed her eyes and slowly let the breath out through her nose. Her heart rate slowed and her nerves calmed.

Panic was her bitch and there was no way it would win now.

Nearly everything was out of her control, with the exception of how she responded. Screaming, crying, and flailing all felt like reasonable responses, though unproductive. She had to think of something positive.

“Computer, emergency restart, this safety pod only.” She spoke calmly and clearly.

Restarting the whole ship would cause the pilot to be offline for several minutes. If they were on a path to collide with the Lowell already, removing the pilot would not change that.

Several seconds passed by. Maddison focused on her breathing.

Next time a budget question comes up around safety pods it would not only get approved, but she would lobby to double it.

This was a rational thought but not productive right now. She acknowledged it and returned to focusing on her breath.

The screen lit up brightly and the glow shone through her closed eyes. Her safety pod was back on line. Things were looking up.

“What’s our impact status?” She commanded confidently.

“Impact likelihood greater than ninety percent.” The pilot responded.

“Take evasive maneuvers.” Maddison ordered.

“Evasive maneuvers would generate risk to occupants and have low probability of success.” The computer replied.

The pilot didn’t want her to pass out during a high G-force maneuver. Preferring death to discomfort was a logic flaw of epic proportions.

“Override comfort parameters and take evasive maneuvers.” She kept her voice steady.

Maybe the fact that her pod was back on line was a good sign. If this was her time to have a safety pod experience it was better to be near a major station than out in the debris field or off near an isolated asteroid.

What else could she do?

Collisions happened all the time in orbit. If they didn’t, the salvage company probably wouldn’t be profitable. Still, going from one site to another within the Off Earth Industries family of companies should be safe.

“Computer change destination to the moon.” She rushed her order.

If she could get the ship to try and take her someplace else maybe it would force an evasive maneuver.

“Navigation systems are not responding. Impact with the Lowell is imminent.” The voice replied no differently than it had when announcing take off and recommending that she sit back and enjoy the ride.

Her stomach rose quickly into her throat and the straps of her seat pressed against the top of her shoulders. Maddison braced for a forward push that as bound to accompany impact.

The ship continued to drop. Blood moved into her brain and her toes became cold. Her eyelids were heavy and even though the screen in front of her was glowing grey, darkness filled her vision.

Maddison woke to a wretched smell and a feeling of water in her lap. Blinking her eyes open she could see bits of her breakfast floating in the air. Her suit was stained and damp but her body was in one piece.

“Where are we?” She asked the computer.

“On a trajectory for Lagrange-4 approximately two thousand kilometers out.” The computer did not try and make up for it’s obstinance.

“Why are you going to Lagrange-4 I was trying to get to The Lowell.” She challenged the stupid machine.

“Hey Maddison, how are you feeling in there?” Tanner Nazca’s voice came over the speakers.

“Looks like I lost my breakfast, soiled myself and then rolled in mud. Oh and I have an incredible headache.” She answered bluntly.

“Yeah, sorry about that. The control room showed that you had a malfunction and were going to collide with the Lowell. I had to override control and force evasive maneuvers. You know how stubborn some pilots can be when it comes to passenger comfort.” He answered.

“Thanks for not making me roll the dice on this safety pod. Nothing appears to be working so I was not optimistic.” Maddison wondered how her boss, the CEO of Off Earth Salvage got involved in a routine shuttle transfer.

“Well I really didn’t want to have repairs to the Lowell put on my tab. You know my cousin, even if they caused the failure he’d try and take me to tribunal over who has to pay.” Tanner answered.

Of course it was about the money, not her. Maddison flushed at what she had been thinking.

“Plus, I can’t have my Operations Director interviewing for jobs without even getting a chance to keep her.” He added.

How did he know she was going there for an interview? How could she tell him why she wanted to leave, or why she wanted to stay?

“I guess I owe you at least a conversation.” She conceded.

“How about after getting back, you clean up and come to my quarters. We can talk over dinner. Looking at these vital signs I’m guessing you’re going to be hungry.” Tanner suggested.

If he was watching the vital signs she would need to keep things under control and not let her heart rate or body temperature increase. Think business.

“Very well. I’ll have the shuttle alert you when I land.” She needed to keep it simple.

“See you later,” Tanner was ready to sign off. “Oh and Maddison, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you.” She answered sincerely.

It was hard to think that she ever considered leaving Lagrange-4. The cold hard rock suspended in space was her home. Starting with their boss and leader the people made it warmer than even the sun cruisers.

End of life notice

February 2, 2018 By K. D. McAdams

The tiny mechanical creature lay motionless on the gravel path. It didn’t return to the base station last night but the empty battery had to be a symptom of a larger ill.

This particular bot wasn’t mission critical for human life, but without it the flora and fauna in Capability Park on the moon were going to be stressed. Last time this guy had an outage they lost over fifteen percent of the plants growing here. The losses were only recovered a few months ago.

Sean Reynolds was frustrated that they weren’t preparing for the loss of this device. He knew the bots and systems that worked to sustain life in the park and the machines knew the plants.

Scooping the aluminum body off the ground he was amazed at how light the package was. This bot was built over forty years ago and designed to crawl along the hull of a ship and look for defects and make minor repairs. Ines Nazca modified to be one of the first agro-bots.

It was due for replacement about twenty years ago, but the problem with a lot of the older artificial intelligence was that no one knew how they learned. This bot, George, learned more about the variety of trees and plants in the park than any human even considered.

[Read more…] about End of life notice

An old timer stops in

January 26, 2018 By K. D. McAdams

Grep felt her heart racing. This wasn’t the first time they were heading out on a dangerous job, but it still wasn’t easy.

The Cthulhu ships were strong and the team was clear on the technique, but it was still risky. Flying into the vacuum of space to retrieve an oversized delivery pod sounded like a standard operation for the salvage crew. But the pod was experiencing a thruster malfunction and orbiting out f control.

Salvage bots were refusing the work because the odds of a successful capture were below sixty percent. A failed capture would result in collision that would generate even more debris which could easily cost Off Earth Salvage more money than a successful capture would generate.

Tanner insisted on stepping in and going for this job. When they salvaged a cargo pod they owned the contents. So not only were they getting paid to eliminate the threat, they would be able to profit from the contents. A double win.

Grep also knew that as they closed on the cargo pod, the odds for successful salvage would change. Hopefully they would increase and the bots would take over and complete the salvage. If not, Tanner and the other ship commander Lyra would manipulate their navigation systems until they were in synch and the odds improved.

But this was the most difficult time, standing in the salvage bay waiting for the ships to be ready.

“Okay, Grep and Stew are with me. Chance you’re with Lyra. Remember that you don’t want to make contact using a tip. If you attach to this thing with a tip it’s over for you and my problems expand exponentially.” Tanner reminded them.

If the tip of an arm from the Cthulhu ship latched on to a tumbling cargo pod, the body of the ship would wind up whipping through space and wrapping around the pod. Ending in a violent collision. That was how Tanner lost Cthulhu-3 and a veteran commander.

“Tanner I still think we should hold off until it burns off more of it’s fuel.” Maddison, the operations manager checked her tablet.

The bean counter wasn’t going to be out there risking her life, what did she care.

“The sooner we capture it the more we get paid. You know how it works, the longer this thing is out of control the more risk the launch company faces. They can’t finance new projects or conduct any other launches while this is in orbit.” Tanner pointed out the driver for taking this risk.

“Excuse me, Tanner?” A young man approached the small team.

“What?” Tanner asked.

“I was told to let you know that we just received a distress request and granted permission to land.” The young man said.

“I don’t need to be involved in that.” Tanner dismissed the information.

“They said to tell you it was a very old signal and the ship appears to be an antique. They don’t think the salvage bay is a safe place to stand while it’s coming in.” The messenger explained.

“These distress calls are going to ruin our business. Maddison, make a note to bring this up next time we talk to someone from the Planetary Operating Alliance.” Tanner assigned an action item.

“Got it.:” Maddison replied confidently.

“Sir?” The young man checked timidly.

“WHAT!” Tanner replied.

“Shared logs show that this ship was launched before the POA existed.” He explained timidly.

The Planetary Operating Alliance was formed shortly after the first orbital war. It crafted, enforced and adjudicated the rules for all of Earth as well as the growing community orbiting the planet. They were the ones that conceived and enforce the restrictions on returning to the planets surface while one still maintained debt. They also defined the requirements for assisting vessels in distress.

Whenever one ship approached another in space they would share logs to understand compatibility between technology and cargo. The dangers of operating in space required the craft to keep track of localized resources and potential safe places in the event of an accident. It was important to know if you could dock with another ship or if it was only available for umbilical connections.

The fact that this ship was sharing logs meant it’s owner made updates to stay current with the laws. It did not mean that the ship had been retrofitted to modern equipment.

“Fine. Clear the deck. But I want to see the owner as soon as they are docked.” Tanner turned and led the team off the floor of the salvage bay.

Grep felt bad for Tanner. If he didn’t have bad luck he wouldn’t have any at all. They needed to get out and salvage that cargo pod to maximize the reward. But now they had to wait for this crazy old ship to land. For free.

The group turned and looked through a window in the conference room where Tanner led them.

A small ship appeared in the entrance to the salvage bay. It waggled slightly and Grep thought for a second that it may not be under the control of it’s AI pilot.

After a big, dramatic dip of the right side of the craft it spun so that the thrusters were pointing towards the back wall of the salvage bay. It was all very showy and not how an AI was trained to land a ship.

“Do you think that was done by a human?” Grep asked Tanner.

“Sure looked that way. I can’t imagine what that felt like on the inside though.” He smiled his reply.

Once the ship settled on the floor of the salvage bay the room went silent. They were waiting for a door or a ramp to appear. No signs of life were present.

“This is Tanner Nazca and you just landed on my rock. State your name and your emergency.” Tanner was speaking into a communicator along the wall.

“Can’t believe there’s still as Nazca on this rock. I thought for sure Kai was going to find a way to get himself killed.” A tired old voice came back.

“He did, this is his grandson. What is your emergency?” Tanner was not ready to reminisce.

“My oxygen reclaimer quit on me. No way I could have made it to the next station, you saved my life.” The voice explained why they needed help.

“What’s your name?” Tanner asked.

“Wilbur.” The tired old voice did not elaborate.

“Do you have a ramp or a door or any way out of that old bucket?” Tanner’s tone began to soften.

“Is this cave really pressurized? Can’t always trust these old sensors.” Wilbur answered.

“Yes, I’ll come meet you.” Tanner let a small smile creep across his face.

The team filed out of the conference room and made their way to the base of the ship that just landed in the salvage bay.

Several meters about the floor of the bay a door slid open. The rungs of a ladder rose from the skin of the ship.

Up at the door they first saw a boot and then a puffy pant leg. The toe of the boot probed for the top rung. Slowly a complete body emerged and Wilbur carefully made his way down the ladder.

Grep and the others stood in silence. When the man was down the ladder and standing securely on the floor his arms went up over his head and stretched to his right.

The man turned and they could all see his mouth moving through the visor of his helmet. When the man noticed that they were not wearing helmets or suits he smiled broadly and reached to the latches around his neck.

It was a far more complicated system than their modern suits. By the time he unfastened the last latch they could hear a faint hiss of air escape the joint.

“Last time I was here, this cave was smaller than my ship and you could not stand out here and breathe.” Wilbur explained.

He didn’t look old enough to have been in space before the POA was formed. Which would also mean he couldn’t be old enough to have visited Lagrange-4 while Kai was still excavating the salvage bay.

“Your shared logs say you launched before the POA was formed. Is that true?” Tanner challenged.

“Give or take. The ship was assembled before the POA existed. I activated most of the systems on the surface almost a year before launch. Wanted to make sure I could be grandfathered into any rules meant to proceed the orbital pioneers.” He looked like a cat who had swallowed the canary.

“How old are you?” Maddison could not resist asking what they all must have been thinking.

“Late seventies I suspect, what year is it?” Wilbur was not phased.

“2092,” Grep answered quickly.

“Then yep about seventy-six or seventy-seven years old. I’m telling you, last time I was here, Kai had me tether my ship to an anchor out there. Had to do an EVA through a tiny hole and into what must have been the very beginning of this cave.” Wilbur turned to survey the salvage bay.

“And where have you been since?” Grep would have known if there was a ship this old living and working in Earth orbit.

“Out and about. Went to check out Mars and then the asteroid belt. Thought that if Kai could wrangle one of these things then so could I. There’s more than one Lagrange point you know.” Wilbur answered like he had been just down the hall.

“What happened?” Grep hoped there wasn’t an asteroid making it’s way towards them.

“Landing on one of these things that doesn’t already have systems is not easy. I could never find a way to touch down.” Wilbur frowned.

“How did you get supplies?” Grep was fascinated with the old timer.

“We have to get on with our project. You can stay until we get back. I think Grep would like to have dinner with you and pick your brain.” Tanner wanted to move along.

“Appreciated. Is there someone I can see about repairs for my oxygen reclaimer?” Wilbur asked.

“Maddison can help you. We might even have some spares of your vintage.” Tanner nodded to his operations manager.

“Do you have modern currency?” Maddison asked.

“Last time I had any money it was on the chain. Guessing that approach is gone?” Wilbur was referring to the old block-chain currencies.

Maddison looked worryingly at Tanner.

“We’ll figure out payment later. Get his reclaimer fixed and find him a place to relax. We have a cargo pod to go recover.” Tanner shook his head.

For a guy that was so intent on paying off his debt and setting foot on Earth Tanner didn’t seem to care much about getting paid sometimes. It was an odd discrepancy and likely a big part of the reason that he was still in debt.

Grep suddenly realized how minimal the scope of their risk really was. Wilbur and Kai had been out here in space when AI was still learning and making mistakes. They were pioneers and had no safety pods or other ships that could help them in the event of an accident.

It wasn’t that their hearts didn’t beat fast or they weren’t scared. They were probably terrified at times. But they pushed through and made progress. If it wasn’t for humans pushing ahead and trying things that AI’s deemed too risky they might still be bound to the planet below.

Taking risks was part of being human. It was why the AI’s were never going to rule them all. Her heart pounding in her chest wasn’t a warning sign, it was a sign of hope and possibility.

“Let’s do this!” She cheered and marched off toward the Cthulhu ship she was assigned to.