By Ellie Jensen | July 7, 2094, 5:03pm

Last time I was in DEEP’s part of the ship, I was sitting in the rafters above everything. It was a sterile, distant place to perch, and it held a distinct removal from the day-to-day bustle that I had assumed a working laboratory would display. Now, I’m about as in-the-middle-of-things as I could be, and it’s still nothing like I’d expected. I’m surrounded by green, with lush vegetation as far as the eye can see. The air is humid, giving it a near tropical feel, and though there’s no birdsong or wind, the low susurration of people at work aids in the calming atmosphere.

I’m sitting in DEEP’s Hydroponics and Botanic Research Bay, having been granted an interview by Dr. Lulu Nakinobe, Chief Naturalist on board the Columbus1. It’s one of the only times I’ve conducted an interview during the middle of the day but, in her own words, Nakinobe doesn’t “have time to waste with only doing one thing at a time.” As such, while we chat, she flits around the laboratory, checking readings, examining plants, and writing notes, all while maintaining a conversation. It’s impressive, if not a little distracting.

Here’s what we discussed.

So, this is the other side of what it means to be a DEEP scientist. I must admit, this is a far cry from the sterile, analytical laboratories I’ve been in before.

[Smiles] Yes, it’s definitely preferable. I get a little twitchy if I have to spend too long in places like the technical labs — that’s a level of lifelessness that I’d prefer to leave to the boardrooms.

So, would you say you’ve always trended towards natural studies?

Oh, yes. Since I was a child.

How so?

Well, my mother took me along most of the time when she went on work trips, and that meant I spent most of my childhood at one SPA site or another — back before it was called DEEP, mind you. And much to her annoyance, I often found ways to explore a little. The greenhouses and agri-domes…that’s where I felt most at home.

And she would have preferred you to be drawn elsewhere?

Oh [laughs] yes, definitely. My mother was Hisa Nakinobe. Have you heard of her?

No, sorry.

Don’t be sorry. It speaks well for you that you’re not in tune with the DEEP hierarchy. Well, she was a member of the board of directors, and as such she wanted me to follow in her footsteps. Full corporate c-suite. [Grins] I had other ideas.

Still, you went with DEEP anyway.

Oh, that was never really a choice — I practically joined out of the womb. But…yes, given the myriad of messed up megacorporations to choose from, I can see myself doing some actual good in this one.

If you don’t mind me saying, you’ve got an unusual attitude towards the corporations for someone so senior in their ranks.

[Purses lips] Power in our world is granted to a select few, and the only way you can do any real good is through bending that power to manifest your reality. I was born into luxury, and given every opportunity that someone could hope for. It’s my strong opinion that the only thing more idiotic than the existence of such a power discrepancy is not utilizing it if you do have it. “Hate the game, but play it well.”

Your mother’s words?

Yes, one of my favorites of hers. Taken from a conversation she had when she finally realized I would be following my own path.

And what would you say defines that path?

[She gestures to the plants around her] Balance. Living in concert with the natural order, not exploiting it purely to further our avarice.

Do you think the others on this expedition see its purpose that way?

[Scoffs] Damn the others. They’d burn the world to make a paycheck. No, mine is to be the voice of moderation, while others belittle me. My particular cross to bear.

You don’t exactly strike me as the religious type.

Damn religion too. Too much of that manifest destiny crap. Look, could you hand me that?

[I pass her a tray of samples] Okay, so why would you say you’re going to Dolos?

Professionally? I’m here to record and explore Dolos’ ecosystem for scientific study, and discern if there’s anything down there that has any value for the company.

And personally?

Well, the recording part is the same, but the company will find value no matter what. Really, I’m here to see if we can find things that will help people back on Earth, and to make sure that we can continue to do so in perpetuity. You see, this is the way you’ve got to think about it if you want to get these people on your side. It’s not “we need to save the ecosystem because it’s a natural marvel” — you won’t get far with that attitude at all. No, it’s “Mr. Director Sir, if you allow me to manage research efforts, I guarantee that we’ll be able to source the ingredients for valuable products forever. However, if we let Mr. Blockhead do it, the income stream will burn out within a decade.”

I see. If you hate these people so much, why put up with them at all?

Come on girl, we’ve been over this! There is no other path if you really want to change things for the better. If we’re going to be able to keep Dolos from ending up like Earth, someone has to rub elbows with these people. It’s just a shame that person has to be me…and it’s a shame that I’m so good at it.

Do you really think Dolos will end up like Earth? I mean, it’s bad, but really the War was what caused the damage, right?

Their form of education is insidious, isn’t it? No, child, Earth was in a tailspin long before the bombs fell. Don’t get me wrong, the nukes did the job. But it’s merely a convenient lie to tell the population that the planet wasn’t dying from ecological collapse long beforehand.

That’s…a lot to take in.

Yes, sorry, but the truth is a bitter pill sometimes. [Smiles] But, don’t you worry. Dolos won’t be the same if I have anything to say about it.

You really think that you alone can dissuade the others from their intentions?

[Laughs] My dear, you do me a disservice. I know I can be a cantankerous old bat, but I can be quite persuasive at times. There are others that share my point of view. Or, if they don’t, they at least share my concerns, and my more pragmatic reasonings.

Anyone in particular?

[Tuts] That would be telling. New question, please.

Hmm. Yes. What’s the relationship between DEEP and Milinda like in practice? I’ve only really talked with each corporation’s representatives in isolation — group interviews have been challenging to organize.

[She stops, and sits down, considering for a moment] There are two men sitting next to each other in a bar. Both are aware that in the basement, people in their employ are fighting. Some will die, some will triumph, but the two men will profit from both, in their own various ways. They drink in near silence, only pausing occasionally to exchange a few words with each other. Eventually, their phones chime. The fights are done. They finish their drinks, and shake hands with a smile. “Same time next week?” they ask.

That’s rather bleak.

That’s rather realistic, actually.

And what’s your place in this spy thriller movie?

Please, let’s not push the metaphor any further than I already did. I’m just saying that these people play a different game to the rest of us, and it’s important to keep that in mind. Especially in your case.

What do you mean?

You’ve been causing a bit of a stir, doing all these interviews, asking all these questions. Some people have been a bit more honest than they perhaps should have been, which to be fair speaks well of your abilities. You need to make sure you’ve got your back covered, if someone takes offense.

I can take care of myself.

[Smiles] I’m sure. After all, you made it this far. But, I felt like I had to say something anyway.

Aren’t you being “a little too honest” then?

Oh, no. I make a fuss often enough that people are used to me. “Cantankerous old bat”, remember? Direct quote, by the way. Never thought he had it in him.

Wait, who?

Oh, Leonid.

Leonid? Wait — Captain Aksenov said that about you?

[Laughs] The man himself, if you can believe it.

Do you often make enemies in such high places?

Oh, it’s somewhat of a calling of mine. But enemies? No, Leonid’s a dear friend of mine. To be fair to the man, the night in question we were both quite drunk, and I had been pushing his buttons all night. [Whispers] He’d lost quite a bit of money.

[Laughs] Ahh, the poker. He did say something about that.

Indeed! One of many strange situations I continually work to get myself into.

Well, you have found yourself on a ship to a new world, so that tracks.

Quite. That’s another life lesson for you, dear. Get in trouble as much as you can — that way, when it finally catches up to you, you’ll be laughing all the way.

I’ll expect to see you down on the surface soon then, dirt up to your elbows.

Roaming free, laughing as the curses of whatever poor USF escort they assign me grow ever more distant.

I’ll make sure I get it on camera. Anything else before I head off?

[Smiles] No, off with you. I’ve got things to be doing.

Alright. Thanks!

By Ellie Jensen | July 5, 2094, 7:20pm

I find myself in a luxurious, hyper-modern office space, having been guided there by a secretary with a well fitted suit who showed me my seat and pressed a crystalline glass of water into my hand before closing the door behind herself. Of all these signs of wealth, it’s actually the water that helps me truly appreciate the power of the individual who owns all of this. Anyone on the ship who’s reading this will appreciate what I mean when I say that the water tastes like absolutely nothing. It’s cold, refreshing and crisp. That’s it. No tinge of chlorine or any of the myriad other cleansing agents that usually taint the endlessly recycled water on the ship. No coppery tang from spending most of its life traveling through the pipework guts of the ship. Nothing. As on board any space-faring vessel, space was bought at an absolute premium onboard the Columbus1. What kind of man could afford to have his own supply of water brought on board?

My musings are cut short as my interview subject walks through the door. Salvador Renard has a certain presence about him — he oozes charisma, and holds himself with a confidence that makes it obvious how he’s worked his way up to be a Project Executives at a company as cutthroat and powerful as Milinda. He introduces himself, sits down, and holds my gaze with a warm smile as his secretary re-enters the room with a carafe of that same precious water.

Here’s what we discussed.

Mr Renard, it’s good to meet you.

Salvador, please. And the pleasure’s all mine. So, what can I do for you Ellie — can I call you that?

Sure, since we seem to be on a first name basis. Salvador, then. Okay, let’s start off with some basic stuff and then go from there. What is it you do for Milinda?

My role? I serve as a Project Executive for our initiatives within the Dolos Expedition.

And what exactly does that entail? I know it might seem mundane, but I promise you it’s not especially clear — I’ve been interviewing people from USF, DEEP, the Crew…everyone does things differently, so I always ask.

It’s no problem! I ensure that the goals of my projects are being fulfilled, and that everything runs smoothly from the top-level down. There’s a lot of moving parts and shifting deadlines in any work Milinda does, and I’m ultimately responsible for making sure it all stays on schedule.

And which projects do you oversee?

Well, things are slightly different here. Back on Earth, I was Project Executive for Mechanical Applications specifically. Here, my responsibilities are broader.

What exactly is ‘Mechanical Applications’?

[He gestures widely] Well, it’s a very broad term to encompass a very broad sector of our work. So…to give an equally broad definition, I’d say Mechanical Applications is the study of creating and using physical components to solve problems.

[Smiles] You’re right, that is rather broad.

[Laughs] Sorry, I know, I know. Okay, to put it another way, Milinda is famous for making things, right? We’re the foremost manufacturer of components and completed items under UE. That’s…well, most things. Everything from the chair that you’re sitting on, to the nuclear reactor that powers this ship — it’s all Milinda. I’m in charge of overseeing the projects that make those things.

Isn’t that…well, just everything Milinda does?

Not at all! We also have numerous projects dedicated to scientific research, medical applications —

— Weapons manufacturing —

— defense contracting, if we’re being precise. But yes. All of that and more. I overlook an important part of the work Milinda does, but only a part.

And you said your work with the Expedition is slightly different?

Indeed! Since the Dolos initiative requires a specific list of items to function, the idea of every project on-ship having individuals from each echelon of seniority didn’t make sense. We were forced by passenger limitations to compromise. So, three Project Managers were selected to come along. I’m one of them.

And the others?

Mai Fujita, who overlooks Defense Contracting, and Alex Wright, who overlooks Theoretical Applications.

So, Mechanical Applications, Defense Contracting, Theoretical Applications. Between those three, that comprises everything Milinda is doing for the expedition?

[Laughs] Not at all. You have to remember, we paid for the trip.

You mean for your involvement?

No, I mean literally, we paid for the whole thing. The expedition was funded by Milinda.

Oh! I thought United Earth —

No, no. You have to remember, United Earth is powerful, but it’s a political animal. Politics doesn’t make money. At least, political entities don’t make money. The individuals, on the other hand…[fans face, laughs]

Interesting. The public were told that the Expedition was a joint endeavor.

Ah, don’t get me wrong, it was! The specifics are just a little more…defined than the public is aware of. It was decided that it would be a good idea to promote a united front given the importance of the trip.

So…what exactly is each organization’s purview?

I’m sure you know most of it.

[Smiles] Humor me. For my readership.

Okay. DEEP made the ship. They have the experience in space exploration, research divisions in exo-this and exo-that, so they’re also nominally in charge. USF provides security. They keep us safe from any threats we encounter. Milinda provides the manufacture of everything the expedition needs, both initially and during the trip. Plus we funded it.

And United Earth?

Oh, they sent along some diplomats and such. They’re mostly represented through their ownership of USF. Other than that, they don’t have the expertise. No, they brought everyone together. We do the work.

Okay, when you put it like that…surely as the company that ‘manufactures everything’ you have near absolute control over the expedition?

Ellie, you mustn’t be so cynical. The day that the Dolos Expedition devolves into ransom and rations is the day that we’ve failed.

[Grins] I don’t think I’m being cynical. I think I’m being entirely realistic. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t think absolutely everyone here with any kind of political authority is looking for a way to bend things on Dolos to their corporation’s benefit.

[Smiles] Like said before. Everyone has their part.

Fine. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything that could be construed as sensational. After all, you’re the first person from Milinda I’ve talked to — a representative, some might say.

Oh, please, nothing so stiff. Anyway, as you’re no doubt aware, the views and opinions expressed in this interview are solely my own, and do not reflect the view of Milinda as a corporation.

Oh, boo. And here I was thinking we were just having a chat.

Sorry, Ellie. I like you, but the recorder is on, and I’m not here to shake things up. Especially not with so little finesse. I mean please.

[Holds hands up] Fair enough, fair enough. You can’t fault me for digging a little. Give me this though. You said that you were here as one of three Project Executives for the corporation, and that Milinda paid for this whole trip. As such, wouldn’t it be fair to say that one of your primary directives is to guarantee a return on investment?

Now that’s something I can say with absolute confidence. Yes. Yes, it’s of paramount importance that I, as a… [smiles] ‘representative’ of Milinda ensure our funding is being used effectively.

And how might you go about doing that?

Well, the most generally important thing is making sure that the command staff is aware of Milinda’s goals for the expedition, and that our needs are always considered before a decision of any kind of magnitude is made.

And what exactly are Milinda’s goals once we’re on Dolos?

[Smiles] Ah, a good question. Would you like some more water?

Thank you, yes.

[He fills our glasses] So, Milinda’s goals. They coincide rather nicely with United Earth’s, actually. We’re here for two main reasons. Energy, and resources. Now, the two are linked, as I’m sure you can understand, but they are also distinct.

So, Energy.

Energy. Our infrastructure back on Earth cannot meet our needs. We need to discover new ways to make energy, and prove that old ones can work if we give them another try. Thus, an unfortunately taboo concept: nuclear power. No one trusts it after the War, no one wants to hear about it, and it’s become the byword for the overreach and instability of scientific progress. [Grimaces] We need to prove that they’re being stupid. Clean nuclear energy is the single most reliable current form of power we have available to us. So, we made this ship run on it. This far away from Earth, we could prove that it could be done safely. Then, we start using it back home again.

Interesting. I don’t envy the PR battle for that.

[Waves hand dismissively] They’ll come around once they’re told what to think.

Once they’re told what to think?

[Pauses, then laughs] Yes, I suppose I did say that. I simply mean that you can’t expect people to act in their best interests if they’re not educated properly. Anyway…

New ways to make energy.

Yes! In case we can’t get people on the side of nuclear energy, and indeed to augment it. Now, Dolos is surrounded by powerful electromagnetic fields, which we may be able to use. However, more importantly, the sun it orbits shows the remains of an actual honest-to-god Dyson Sphere around it. If we can reverse engineer that…well, job done! Imagine how much better we could make life back on Earth with the things we discover here.

And does that link back to what you were saying before about resources?

Exactly. We have absolutely no idea what we’re going to find down there, but we expect it to be resource rich. Earth is reaching the end of its usefulness in terms of resource generation, but the way I see it, that doesn’t matter so much. Earth is and will always be our homeworld — the most important place for us as a species. Long before space travel, people on Earth knew that they needed to import goods that they could not create themselves. Back then it was from different lands, different continents, far away from anything they called home. Now, everything is just bigger. Now, we need to import things on an interplanetary scale.

So that’s what Dolos is to Milinda? Resources?

Not just, of course. It’ll be the first planet outside our system we’ve set foot on, and there’s every chance that we’ll be able to colonize it and make it a home one day. But, if I’m being honest I don’t think that should be our main concern. Our concern is helping those back home. Our concern is supporting humanity as a whole — and most of us will always be back on Earth.

It’s always fascinating seeing things from such a defined point of view.

Is it not yours?

[Smiles] Unfortunately, the views and opinions of Ellie Jensen do represent those expressed within her interview — so I try to not give too much away about what I think. This is about you, after all.

[Laughs] Touché.

Right. Final question. As a high-ranking member of the biggest corporation on Earth, what advice would you give to the readership, that they could apply to their own lives?

Ooh, interesting. [whispers conspiratorially] Don’t worry, I won’t disappear on you.

[Laughs] Please don’t.

Okay. Advice. If you wish for something with enough passion…and you hope for it with everything you have…and you believe in yourself…and you believe you’re capable of anything…

…Yes?

You’ll still come second to the person who actually put in the work.

[Laughs] Thank you, Salvador.

By Ellie Jensen | July 1, 2094, 10:45pm

When I secured an interview with Dr. Hayes, I pictured our interview taking place in a sterile, medical-leaning room — something like a doctor’s office. Many such places exist on the Columbus1, as a ship with some four-thousand occupants requires significant space dedicated to medical care. I said something along those lines to Hayes when I was organizing our talk. “No,” Hayes writes. “I know a place.”

Fast forward a couple of days, and I’m sitting with her on a beach.

It’s not a real beach, of course. We’re still on board the Columbus1 on our way to Dolos, and the ship’s engines still give a baseline thrum to the air around us, and the walls far away are made of metal. But it’s somehow easy to forget all that. Speakers set in the walls fill the room with the sound of waves and the night calls of hidden animals, and the ground is covered in a thick layer of sand. We’re sitting on cargo netting slung between two shipping crates, and the lights are low, with only the amber glow of a sodium spotlight to light our position. Beyond that glow, the room is dark. We’re sitting on the ship, in Cargo Bay 8C, which has been retrofitted for training scenarios. Really though, we could be anywhere.

Here’s what we chatted about.

So, I have to ask…why here? How do you even know about this place?

Oh, I’m a frequent helper patching up people who’ve gotten too enthusiastic during the training scenarios. The USF might have their own medics, but they’re a little insular and the scenarios cater for everyone on the ship. I’ve been all around these decks treating people.

And why this one specifically? Don’t get me wrong, this is certainly the most romantic interview I’ve ever been on, but…

[Laughs] I know how to show someone a good time. No, it reminds me of…home, I guess? Not a familial home, I mean, I grew up in London. [Shrugs] But where I’m most comfortable.

How come?

I did a lot of work in some pretty remote places before this. Indonesia, the fringes of various exclusion zones across Latin-America and East Africa, that sort of thing. Some of the most challenging ones were in tropical climates — disease and infection are rampant in places like that. But amongst all of that, in the moments where my shift was up, there was always somewhere like this. A mountain ridge, a clearing in the woods, a beach. [Smiles] The beaches were the best.

Do you come here often?

Well, as often as I can. There’s always work to do on a ship this size, but I suspect things won’t get truly frantic until we’re down on the surface. Exploration always has heightened risks. So…I’m taking these moments of peace for now.

Are you expecting there to be trouble?

[Shrugs] Yes, there tends to be, of one type or another. There’s nothing to worry about, though. It’s just important that we prepare for the reality of things.

[Chuckles] You sound like Webb.

Do I? We haven’t actually met formally. I’ve only seen him in passing a couple of times, and he always seems to avoid me. [Whispers conspiratorially] I think doctors make him nervous.

Ah, it’s a classic. No, what I mean is that he’s very into preparation too.

I imagine so. He’s supposed to be pretty smart for a soldier — he’s certainly seen his fair share of things.

Okay, there’s a couple of things to unpack there.

[Laughs] Oops, here we go.

So, ‘for a soldier’. Are you not a fan?

I doubt anyone who specializes in healing people is enthusiastic about soldiers.

That’s…fair. Have you had much experience being around them?

In a fashion. I’m specialized in physical medicine and biomechanics. My work used to be focused on providing amputees with prosthetics, or bionics if possible. I’ll give you three guesses as to how those people ended up amputees.

I didn’t realize you were stationed in combat zones.

I wasn’t, but landmines don’t disappear just because the war has moved on.

Ah. How come you’re on this expedition then?

[Smiles] Well, most of us aren’t soldiers.

But you’ll probably have to treat them at some point.

And I’ve treated them in the past, many times. Look, I’ll treat anyone. Absolutely anyone. But that doesn’t mean I have to like them, or respect them.

I suppose that’s understandable. But going back a bit, you said Webb had done a lot. How do you know that? From what I was able to see, USF files are locked up tight.

Oh, they are, and the minutiae of the more classified mission details is still opaque to me. However, I have access to everyone’s files on board the ship. I need to in order to treat them, and that goes beyond medical records on an expedition of this sensitivity. It’s why confidentiality is taken so seriously.

How much do you know about me?

[Smiles] Oh, a lot. For example — [She lists off several private facts about my life] — but I’m pretty sure you don’t want any of that getting published to your readers.

Hmm. You know, that’s the second time in two interviews people have done something like that. I need to start interviewing less informed people.

I suspect that would make things rather boring. Plus don’t worry, I know this stuff so that if you need treatment, I can help you. I’m not looking to spill it to other people.

You promise?

[Laughs] Pinky promise.

Okay. Let’s move on. You mentioned your past work. Is that what got you hired for this expedition?

It was, though less for the prosthetics work. They needed a specialist in biomechanics and physical medicine. [She leans forward and holds up two fingers] Two major reasons. The KEM frames, and the Survival Cells.

KEM…I don’t know much about them. Are those those exo-frame things?

Yep. Stands for Kinetic Energy Module. Connects to your nervous system and muscles. The idea is that we can equip people with those, and it’ll augment their physical abilities. Well, I say ‘the idea’, but that’s actually what they do. It’s honestly kind of a miracle of technology.

I’ve only seen them a couple of times — do you think they’re going to be used en-masse?

Based on the initial roll-out, I’d say definitely. Their ability to increase physical abilities is something that’ll be invaluable on the surface, but it’s even showing its uses now on-board the ship. There’s a lot of very intensive manual labor involved in running a ship like this, and people with these modules are capable of doing a great deal more without hurting themselves. I suspect many people will have one by the time we reach Dolos — apparently they’ve got thousands of them packed away. DEEP does keep things close to the chest, don’t they?

That they do. To that end, what are the Survival Cells? I haven’t heard about them at all.

[Waves hand] Oh, you know, another miracle. [Laughs]

What do they do?

Oh, they’re amazing. They’re effectively medical treatment pods filled with bleeding-edge technology. They allow us to scan a patient’s vital signs, and then provide them with immediate treatment based on the readouts. Everything from pharmaceutical introduction, to minor surgery, to cryogenic stasis in extreme cases. They’ve been adapted from DEEP’s biological parsing modules, but they’ve been retrofitted especially for the mission. There’s some stuff in there that goes beyond medical, as well, like a whole suite of virtual-reality training modules using a specially designed version of ReVerb software.

Wait, really?

Yeah, it’s insane. At the moment only the special forces elements within the USF teams are using them, but the modules are really doing their job. We’ve got a whole bay of these pods, so I’d expect training to ramp up as we get close to the planet. It won’t be too long before everyone is using them.

That’s…honestly kind of terrifying.

I thought that too, at the start, but don’t worry. I stipulated that the only way I’d even join the expedition to work with DEEP tech is if I had complete oversight — they’ve got specialists working with them, but I always have to be there to monitor the occupant’s wellbeing.

Hmm. I suppose that’s a relief. You also mentioned cryogenics?

[Nods] We haven’t had to use that function yet, thankfully, but yes. In a worst case scenario, a patient can be put in a protective cryo-sleep, which will dramatically slow their metabolic processes.

What would you need to use that for?

Previous uses have been for individuals that needed urgent specialist care that we couldn’t provide on-site. By placing them in cryo-sleep, we effectively “pause” them, so that the situation doesn’t deteriorate. That way, patients in critical conditions that we might not be able to save otherwise can wait to be transported, or for care to come to them.

I wonder what it’s like.

Oh, you feel quite nasty afterwards for a bit, but otherwise it’s a lot like falling asleep. You don’t have any sense of time passing, you’re just…suddenly awake again later down the line.

Do you dream?

I don’t think so. I certainly didn’t when I tested it, and none of my patients have.

And do you think we’ll use them for that a lot on Dolos?

A lot? No. However, there will be cases where people would need to get treatment only available back on Earth, in which case we’ll put them in stasis until a ship becomes available to send them back on.

But that could take years.

[Shrugs] To them, it’ll just be a blink of an eye.

[Our conversation lapses into silence. We listen to the waves.]

[Clears throat] So, if the interview is over…want a drink?

[Smiles] I never said it was…but sure.

[She stands, and produces a bottle from her bag, pouring us both a measure of amber liquid. I take a sip.]

Huh. Cognac. I half expected rum, given the locale.

[Laughs] No, but I think this is better.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s excellent. [I Pause] It’s actually pretty familiar. [I take another sip] Wait, is this —

Shh. Confidentiality, remember.

[I pause] Ah. In that case…to confidentiality. [I raise my glass]

[Smiles, and raises her glass] To confidentiality.

[Our glasses clink as they touch]

By Ellie Jensen | June 30, 2094, 8:46pm

My friends and I were never fond of authority figures growing up. While I grew up in relative wealth, I pretty quickly got tired of the stifling, saccharine platitudes that were fed to me by my family. So, following the tried and true stereotype, I rebelled. Not, you understand, a true rebellion, filled with the clamor and fire that I’d later document, but a quieter, more gradual thing. Though they were initially distrustful, I quickly fell in with kids from the lower slopes — people with little means, but big ideas. While I’d like to say I never looked back, as I grew up I came to realize that the resources I had access to could do some good elsewhere. The only thing more idiotic than me having so much that others didn’t, was not taking advantage of it.

The reason I’m telling you this is to give you some sense of my emotions, sitting down in an interview room on G-deck. I am, once again, deep within USF territory…and I’ve liked cops. But, as I’ve so often found, comfort is a secondary concern when searching for a good story. So when, unprompted, I received a message inviting me to interview Lyra Novak, I jumped at the opportunity. Novak is a more senior figure in the Dolos Expedition’s USF forces than Marcus Webb (who I’d interviewed a week before), so I was a little nervous, but I figured what the hell. After all, the interview was an invite, unlike last time.

There’s little point talking about the room I’m sitting in — it may be a different one, but it looks exactly the same as the other one, right down to the same framed recruitment pictures on the walls. However, as I look around, bemused, the door is opened by a stiff-looking Corporal, and Novak makes her entrance. She brings an aura of severity into the room with her. Despite the fact that her file says she’s pushing 40, she looks young for her age. The door is shut, and she shakes my hand. Her grip is firm, and though her face is set in a mask of civility, there’s an intensity to her gaze that immediately makes me feel like a kid again. I push through the discomfort, and begin.

Here’s what we spoke about.

I’m Ellie Jensen. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today.

Lieutenant Novak. So what can I do for you today, Miss Jensen?

Well, I’m conducting a series of interviews on important members of the crew. I’m sure you knew that though, right?

[Smiles] I was briefed, yes. You seem to have accomplished quite a bit in a short amount of time. Starting with Aksenov…it certainly got some attention.

Thank you. Yes, the Captain was very gracious about everything. Still, I must admit I was surprised to get this invitation — I thought after my interview with Webb the USF would consider me “handled”.

Quite the opposite, actually. Though there were initial reservations around your interview request, after Webb’s session with you we revised our opinions. It became clear that there was enough audience traction to make it worth our time to have you speak with someone more senior.

Well, I’m grateful for that. So…your file didn’t say much about your specialty, but I was only able to access a limited version of it. What is it you do for the expedition?

So, I’m not as specialized as a Warrant Officer like Webb — he’s trained specifically for survivalist training and such. As a Lieutenant, I’m a commissioned officer, which means my duties are to adapt to whatever is required by those above me.

Okay, so if not a specialty, what are your duties?

[Smirks] It’s strange to be the one getting asked the questions. My duties are to my platoon. I command thirty soldiers.

To do what, exactly?

Right now? Prepare.

Can you go into more detail? For example, Webb also said he’s focused on prep —

I’m sorry, but that’s classified.

No, you see everyone on this expedition has been read-in, we know what the USF’s role —

Yes, but there are things that I can’t talk about.

Okay, then what exactly can you talk about, Miss Novak —

Lieutenant.

Yes, sorry, ‘Lieutenant’. Is there a reason you’re so reluctant to engage with my questions?

[Pauses] You’re right. My apologies, Miss Jensen. I touched on it before, but I’m not used to being the subject of questioning. In the spirit of transparency, I can tell you that’s because one of my duties is security — it breeds a naturally defensive mindset, as you can imagine.

Understandable. I’m not used to being on this side of the table either.

[Chuckles] Oh, I’m aware.

[Pauses] …right. Security. Is that for the whole expedition?

Yes. As I’m sure you’re aware, the United Security Force’s primary mandate for the Dolos Expedition is to keep the people here safe.

That’s once we’re on the planet though, right?

Technically, yes. In practice, there are always security matters to attend to.

Isn’t it the job of the ship’s Security Department to deal with issues on-board?

[Smiles] Strictly by definition, that’s correct. However, it’s a big ship, and they can’t be everywhere.

And USF can be?

We can. If we can watch a planet, we can watch a ship.

Am I to understand that, despite the existence of the Security Department, USF still undertakes operations onboard the ship?

Absolutely not. Legally, our authority is strictly confined to once the expedition reaches its destination. Any operations undertaken would be illegal in nature. So, no. No operations.

But if the Security Department can’t keep a lid on things in-transit, USF steps in?

Of course. As I said before, our job is the safety of the expedition. We’d be failing in our duty if everything went up in flames just because the Security Department couldn’t do its job.

Am I to understand you don’t have a particularly high opinion of them?

[Clears throat] The crew of the Columbus1 was hand picked, and is composed of incredibly driven individuals, all of whom have been rigorously trained to operate in their fields.

Sure, but I’m not talking about mechanics or pilots. Do you think the ship’s security is competent?

[Nods] They’re capable.

But USF could do it better?

Oh, you can be assured of that. [Smiles] I’m sure that’s just my esprit de corps though.

I can’t fault you for that. On that note though…it looks like the friction goes beyond merely theoretical. I’ve read multiple reports of confrontations between the two teams, with at least two documented instances of people ending up in the medical bay as a result. In fact, the most recent example of this occurred only two weeks ago — and one of the Corporals involved still hasn’t woken up. Is that something everyone else on board should be worried about?

No, of course not. No matter what, the security of the expedition is paramount. Any disagreements between the USF and the Columbus1’s Security Department are inconsequential compared to that.

So what, it’s just…competitive spirit?

A competition. Yes, exactly. Genuine breaches in security — like the ones you refer to — have resulted in heavy censure for those involved.

Okay. Moving on, let’s talk about your actual mandate. We reach the surface of Dolos. What then?

Then the USF comes fully into play. We’ve been training relentlessly for this, and we’re already specialists in the field of enforcement and protection. We’ll mobilize to ensure that the expedition is safe.

And what exactly will that entail?

There are two main stages planned. The first, and the most critical, is during the expedition’s landing phase. It’s unlikely that we’ll experience many issues in-orbit, but once we launch shuttles we’ll be at our most vulnerable. USF will be going down en-masse in the first wave to ensure a perimeter can be maintained. Afterwards, once things settle a little, we’ll be able to reinforce the perimeter with more permanent fortifications. From that point onward, we’ll be focusing on providing escorts for scientists who need to go outside the wire.

“Outside the wire”? You make it sound like we’re going to war.

We are an army, Miss Jensen. They sent us for a reason. Plus, don’t act like you’re unaware of the risks. We all read your interview with Webb.

I suppose I just keep on butting up against the fact that half the expedition is treating this like some grand journey of discovery, and the other half are treating it like we’re dropping into a battlefield.

[Smiles] What makes you think that they have to be mutually exclusive?

I don’t —

No, in all seriousness there’s nothing to be worried about. Leave the concerns about security to professionals. It’s our job to lose sleep over things like that, not a civilian’s.

Hmm. Okay. Well, you certainly give the impression of being capable.

[Nods] No one on this expedition is green. We’re all veterans of multiple operations.

Can you talk about some of yours?

You know I can’t.

Come on. Not everything is hidden behind red tape. Give me something.

Fine. You might be too young, but do you remember the Water Siege?

No, sorry.

Yea, too young. It was…maybe eight or nine years ago, I forget the exact date. The water cartels in the texan belt formed a monopoly under a kingpin called Sebastian Granick. On its own, that would be bad enough, but in the war against one of their last rivals they caught a UE office in the crossfire. So, I was ordered in as part of a team to hit one of their safehouses. Let me tell you, they learned pretty quickly that you don’t touch UE’s stuff.

What happened?

We made an example of them. You’ve seen the news reels whenever UE sends a message. Classic scorched earth. Move to just outside the perimeter, hit the core buildings with precision strikes, move in and mop up. After we grabbed Granick and his cronies, we prosecuted the rest and left the place to burn. The water cartels haven’t been a serious threat since.

“Prosecuted?”

[Nods] In a fashion. There’s only one punishment for endangering UE lives.

…right. So, to end on a lighter note, what’s your view of a perfectly achieved goal once we’re on Dolos? What kind of life can we expect for those of us who made the trip?

You’ll be safe, and you’ll be able to focus entirely on whatever it is you were brought on the expedition for. USF, like always, is here for you, to protect you and give you the peace of mind you deserve.

Thank you again for your time. Any final words?

You know where to find us if you need anything. We try to be hard to forget.

Thanks!

By Ellie Jensen | June 24, 2094, 11:03am

For the second time in a month, I find myself sitting in a room that’s the very image of old Earth. Much like Captain Aksenov’s quarters, the seats are leather, though these are worn, and I can feel the memory of countless previous occupants in the lines and cracks that crease the chair’s surface beneath my fingertips. The walls are lined with bookshelves, which are completely filled with disparate volumes stacked in neat rows, then haphazardly on top. In the rare spaces where the books are small and some space would be left on the lip of the shelf, curios fill it instead — artifacts, mementos, pictures, all given an air of reliquary significance by the low amber glow of the sodium lamps.

This room, steeped in history, perfectly matches its owner. I’m sitting here with Elian Vasquez, Laboratory Manager of DEEP’s Archaeology division for the Dolos expedition. He lounges opposite me, leaning on one armrest with a relaxed air. As he talks with me his gaze wanders, only to dart back to me, like he’s bringing me in on a secret. I find myself warming to him immediately, helped in no small part by a sense of humor that seems so at odds with his aesthetic reminiscent of a classical philosopher.

Here’s some of what we talked about.

Nice to meet you! I’ll be honest, this environment wasn’t what I expected when I found out I was meeting a “Laboratory Manager”. I definitely prefer it though.

I’m glad to hear it! I’ve been told my style trends towards maximalism, but I’m not exactly an interior designer so I don’t know about all that.

Neither — I think it just means “someone who has a lot of stuff” though.

That’s certainly true. I think I’d be a poor archeologist if I didn’t naturally indulge my magpie instincts though, and it’s served me well over the years. Half of these items are one of a kind simply because I picked them up when I did.

Do you think that eye for detail was what got you a spot on the expedition?

Eh, probably. That and blackmail. [Laughs] But no, in all seriousness something like you said. DEEP hasn’t historically had a massive archeological department, but after we discovered the Mars ruins, you wouldn’t believe the number of xenoarcheology applicants we saw. I think the board saw the value in having someone with a bit more history of dirt under their fingernails though.

You’ve been doing this a long time then?

Oh, since I was a boy. We’re talking about the fifties, when they first started introducing the mandatory tech curfews we see today. I was always more interested in things I could touch rather than the virtual stuff, but the blackouts really pushed me towards the outdoors. Why bother with an intermittent virtual when the physical was always just outside my walls?

I’m not great with my history knowledge, so please correct me if I’m wrong — wasn’t that when they started the labor drafts though? How did you end up working in something as specialized as archeology?

[Nods] Well, they called it “Mandatory Occupational Restructuring”, but “labor drafts” is more honest I guess. And as for how…I guess you could say that I’ve never been particularly willing to let objects remain in my way. I grew up poor. I knew a lot of friends who were press-ganged into physical labor, and saw the gradual draining from them of all spirit, even as their bodies declined. So, one day I left. I never felt much tie to my foster family, nor they to me, so it was an easy decision to make. Although…ha. No, to call it a decision gives it too much credit. I was maybe sixteen, so I didn’t really think about it. I just never came back one day. There was a DEEP office in the next town, so I walked there and [shrugs] knocked on the door.

And they just…took in a child?

[Grins] Oh, no, I told some outrageous lies. Said I was nineteen, and that I’d apprenticed for an antiques dealer for the last three years. Showed them some bits of pottery I’d found digging around in the old burn-pits bordering my town, and said I’d been given them by a research team that had passed through asking about “ruins of the old village” or some such nonsense. I don’t know how much they believed, but I got lucky — they had a vacancy for an intern, and I think the recruiter saw how much I wanted it. I left the continent the next day. [Gestures to room] And, well, here I am.

It’s a hell of a story. [Smiles] How much of it is true?

[Laughs] Who can say? I’m so old, you see, my memory…

Ha, cute. I’ll leave it be then. Okay, so, back on track. You’re focused on history. Earth is where all of our history is. Why come on an expedition to somewhere we’ve never been?

[He is suddenly somber. He gets up and wanders over to a cabinet, retrieving two ship-ration-branded cans of beer from a mini-fridge hidden behind a false set of drawers. He offers me one, and sits one I’ve accepted.]

Some things…sometimes history is too recent. Too close. We were finding fewer and fewer classical ruins. Priority shifted — there was greater value placed on more…modern history.

Not what you wanted?

I think it was the third time that they asked me to go back to the Latin-American Exclusion Zone that I lost my temper with them. [Sighs] They were…pretty pushy about getting me to go back there. Some Chief of Research’s personal assistant was sitting in a room with me, telling me that he was surprised I wasn’t “more interested in my cultural history”.

Ouch.

Yeah, I didn’t hit him, but maybe I should have. Instead, I told him that having half my homeland burned to ash didn’t leave much culture behind to sift through.

And he took it badly?

Oh, no, I didn’t get in trouble or anything like that. He was mortified, completely apologetic, “never could have dreamed of meaning yada yada yada”. But, that feeling of dread stuck with me. I could deal with some simpering admin-jockey, but in my experience today’s suggestions become tomorrow’s mandates. I knew sooner or later I was going to be reassigned [puts on a posh English accent] and, terribly sorry, but that wouldn’t be particularly good for my constitution.

Hmm. Yeah, I can see why you’d want to avoid that. So…what happened?

I got the hell off Earth. Got myself reassigned to the Mars ruins project, which by that point was stagnating a bit and desperate for some less jaded staff. When the Tube opened, I was first in line to get on the expedition.

Okay, we’ll get to the expedition, but let’s talk about Mars for a bit. How different was it working in Martian ruins, compared to back on Earth?

Oh, it was a breath of fresh air. Not literally, of course. [Laughs] But yes, after everything a shift to xenoarcheology was just what I needed. Less skeletons in the closet, you know?

Human ones, at least.

Oh, don’t get me started. The day we find alien remains, I just hope my heart holds up. My composure won’t, let me tell you.

That seems like a neat segue. What are you expecting to find on Dolos?

Answers! Our drones have picked up some impressions of colossal structures on the surface, but beyond that it’s all just questions at this stage. I imagine It’s going to be an absolute gold rush down there. Who made the ruins? What was their culture? What marvels did they make? It’s going to be incredible.

Are you worried about danger? I know some people are expecting trouble.

[Gestures dismissively] Ah, that. Yes, I’m sure there will be some struggles ahead, but I can’t afford to think about those things. It’s not my job to oversee security, and I’m sure the USF has it in hand. My job is to make sure we seize the prize, whatever it might be.

‘Seize the prize’. You don’t usually hear scientists talking like that.

I suppose that’s true. I’ve never really considered myself a scientist though, so I guess that’s why.

If not a scientist, then what? Isn’t an archeologist a type of scientist?

Oh, sure. By definition, yes. I tend to find that “scientists” have very little competitive spirit.

And you do?

Absolutely. Not really against other people, but against the odds, against the elements? I live for that struggle, and I’m not going to let anything get in the way of discovery. Leave the analysis for others once the fun is over — I’ll get my thrill from being the first to get my hands on whatever it is.

Do you think the fact that others might see things differently is going to be an issue when you’re down there?

[Shrugs] Eh, I haven’t really considered it. I think everyone else is going to be just as excited, so they’ll probably make allowances for my “eccentricities”. Plus I don’t know — in my experience people are generally happy enough when you provide in the aftermath. Better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission, otherwise you’ll be stuck in bureaucracy your entire life.

Yea, I get that — it’s refreshing to be honest.

[Grins] Plus, you get to tell people “I told you so”.

Oh, now that I can get behind. So, anything in particular you’d love to discover down there? I’d say there’s a good chunk of the expedition who have never even seen Mars’ alien ruins, so I think it’d be fun to give them something for their imagination.

Hmm, I’ve got two answers for that; one for the excitement, and one for me.

Sure, go ahead.

Something exciting — it’s possible that we discover new technology down there. Whoever they are or were, they have the capability of astonishing feats. Wormholes, construction on a massive scale, harnessing the power of the sun — imagine what we could do with that knowledge. It’d be a new golden age for humanity, free from the constraints of Earth’s limitations. Just imagine!

I’m more of a “seeing is believing” kind of gal, but I’ll be right alongside you cheering when we make the discoveries.

[Laughs] Oh, you reckon you’ll be out in the wilderness with the rest of us?

[Smiles] Good luck to anyone who tries to stop me. But, no distractions — what’s the discovery “for you”?

Oh, I don’t know, it’s kind of embarrassing actually. Forget it.

No, no, don’t give me that. It’s the final question, you’re obliged to answer.

Oh, obliged am I? [Pauses] Fine. Fine, my discovery for myself…I’d like to find some pottery. Just some shards, you know. For old times sake.

Ah, I see. I like it. Full circle. [Pauses] Right, I have a confession. I, too, am an outrageous liar. You see, I do actually have one more question.

I’m hurt! Hurt! [Laughs] Sure, what would you like to know?

You wouldn’t happen to have any more of those beers, would you?

By Ellie Jensen | June 22, 2094, 8:14pm

It’s sometimes joked that the USF is easy to get into contact with, but hard to actually get anything from. This was reinforced by my attempts to get an interview with anyone of significance from the organization. After several particularly short conversations with PR officers, I was informed that my request would be considered, and told to leave restricted areas. As such, I’d pretty much given up on the hope of actually being able to get anything to show for my efforts.

Then finally, unexpectedly, I get a USF-branded piece of paper delivered to my door by a bored looking soldier. On it, a typically terse message: “Interview with CW4 Marcus Webb approved. 13:30 Ship Time, Room B-49-C, Deck G3.” Given that the clock mounted on my wall was showing 10:35, I ran to find a map.

As part of my ongoing attempt to interview key figures of importance in the Dolos expedition, I’ve ended up in many different corners of the Columbus1. All of them have their quirks depending on who calls that particular deck home, and I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect of the USF’s quarters. As such, I ventured into “grunt country” — as the crew jokingly calls it — with no small amount of curiosity. As it turns out, I wasn’t going to see much of it.

The USF decks on board are heavily partitioned by clearance-locked airlocks, and when I turn up to G deck, I am met by a man in uniform with the smile of a salesman. After shaking my hand, he leads me through a series of corridors filled with pictures straight out of a recruitment advert, and into a sparsely furnished but comfortable meeting room. Throughout the entire journey, I see no one else, and get the distinct impression that was by design. My escort leaves, and after a couple of minutes a serious-looking man in full uniform strides inside. It’s only once he introduces himself that I realize it’s Webb.

Here’s what we discussed.

Ah! I’m Ellie Jensen, pleased to meet you. I’m sorry, I’m not sure how I should address you — the invite said CW4, but I’m not familiar with the acronym.

To be honest, I wouldn’t expect you to. It stands for Chief Warrant Officer 4, but I just have everyone call me “Chief”. “Webb” will be fine.

Right, Webb it is. Nice to meet you. So, in my interview request I specified that I wanted to talk to someone in charge of training the USF elements on board. Would you say that fits your job description?

A part of it. In brief, my duty is to prepare the expedition for Dolos. Everything from survivalism, to security expectations, to emergency procedures — I’m in charge of seeing people are ready. [Smiles] I hope that’s something you’re interested in.

Oh, absolutely. I’ll be honest, even when the interview was confirmed, part of me expected to get one of the PR officers.

[Laughs] Nope, you lucked out and got someone who actually earns their pay. So, what do you want to know?

Well, you were nice enough to give me three talking points, so it seems rude to deviate. Let’s start with “security expectations”. All of the security on board the ship is taken care of by the ship’s security department, and I think many people are asking what USF is doing in force on the expedition.

Well, it’s about protection. You’re correct that the crew manages the ship’s security, but you have to remember that most of the expedition will be done on the surface of Dolos. Once we’re off-ship, it’s on USF to protect you all.

Protect from what, exactly?

Everything. We really have no idea what to expect on the surface, and this is a different world we’re talking about. We know for sure that there’s life down there, but that’s about it. My job is to make sure that everyone is aware of the risks so that everyone can focus on their work.

You’re talking about what…aliens?

Is that really too hard to imagine? Something built those ruins on Mars, after all. Something made the wormhole that took us here. Something made a megastructure, a…a Dyson sphere or whatever it’s called — around the sun!

And you’re expecting them to still be alive?

Oh, no, I sincerely hope not. We’d be in quite a bit of trouble if a species that advanced was still around. No, while I’m still expected to find theoretical solutions to a potential situation like that, I expect it’s going to be more along the lines of animals that we find down there. If I know anything about scientists, it’s that they love to poke the wildlife, so I have to think of that first.

I’d imagine those scientists will be a little upset if you shoot whatever they’re studying.

[Pulls a face] Please. Not all of us are that gung-ho. I’m personally quite a fan of nature — and part of that is understanding that even back on Earth, nature doesn’t owe you anything, especially your survival.

[Smiles] I didn’t realize USF troops were allowed to be naturalists.

Hah. No, not a naturalist. Just someone who appreciates the great outdoors. Call it a quirk of a past life.

You weren’t always USF?

[Smiles] Oh, no, I was. I just used to be some other stuff too.

Of course. So, I suppose that leads us logically onto the other things you said, which I have to admit are a little concerning. Emergency procedures? Survivalism? Is there something people should know about?

No, no. You see these are the kind of things I’m here to prevent; panic, helplessness, confusion. You know, one of the most important lessons I learned as a child was that if you leave things until they’re bad, you’ll only be left with bad things. Preparation is not alarmism, and in fact it’s the unprepared that are always the first to panic when things begin to go wrong.

I suppose that’s true. So, it’s all theoreticals, really?

We train in theoreticals so that the practicals don’t catch us unawares. But, yes. It’s a lot of planning for things that we hope don’t happen.

That must be stressful.

I actually find it calming, believe it or not. Really it’s only stressful when people don’t take it seriously.

Is that an issue that you face a lot?

Oh, for sure. I’m not just training USF, I teach classes to all of the expedition. And if I’m honest, though they’re all different people from different walks of life, it’s all just different coats of paint on the same busted-up outlook. USF people think they’re superhuman. Milinda ones are so focused on the numbers they don’t see reality. DEEP guys just treat it like a field trip. [Takes a breath] Luckily, I have time to snap them out of it.

What does that look like? What kind of things do you do to train people?

Luckily, I’ve actually been allocated a great deal of resources. The simplest and most common thing is to get people in seminars led by subject experts — medics, scientists, all sorts. Those can get a little dry at times, but we shake things up occasionally by doing drills for the various emergencies we could face. My favorite though are the exercise decks. This ship is big, and the people at DEEP were nice enough to set aside some hangers filled with a bunch of training scenarios. They like to run tests on how people will react to various situations, which is fine by me as it helps people feel like they’re actually capable of doing what I’ve asked of them.

That sounds interesting — I’ve never seen them. What kind of scenarios are we talking about?

It’s pretty flexible. The best ones are where we set one of the hangers up with a bunch of props to give a kind of mockup of the surface, then tell people what has happened to get them in that situation. Oh, their shuttle has gone down in unknown territory, here’s what they could salvage, what do they do in that situation. Make sure they’ve got some rations, then lock all the doors. People have done some ingenious things to succeed, let me tell you.

Isn’t that kind of harsh? And…I don’t know, dangerous?

No, we only leave them in there for a few days, and they’re being watched round the clock. Plus, most of these people haven’t gone through anything like basic training for the USF — they’re completely untested in challenging situations. Sometimes it’s better to know if people are going to be problematic before things hit the fan, you know?

What happens to them?

Oh, nothing. We stick a note in their file, then have them assigned to another round of training. We’re trying to help people, not punish them.

Okay, so that’s what you’re doing with everyone. What about specialists? People who are likely to range further afield?

Well, I don’t know if I’d call them specialists, but there are certainly people who are going to be going out in the reconnaissance teams who aren’t USF. In those cases, yeah, we make sure they’re able to defend themselves. Pretty much everyone in those teams goes through a super-light version of USF basic training to learn weapon-handling skills, fieldcraft, etcetera.

Sounds like fun — how come I haven’t heard about any of this before?

You’re part of the civilian contingent, right? Not corporation-affiliated?

That’s right. Independent journalist.

Heh. Independent. Sure. Well, there’s your issue. We’re gradually rolling out this training, but the civilians will be last. You have to understand, there aren’t many of you, and most of your number are diplomats, auditors, that kind of thing. Not exactly people who are going to be straying away from the base-camp once we’re down, or even the ship in some cases.

What if I ask really nicely?

[Laughs] Listen, I don’t know how you got on this ship, but someone up high seems to enjoy what you’re doing. I imagine if you’re the kind of person who can get a meeting with Captain Aksenov and Uzoma of all people, you’re resourceful enough to find yourself a training spot.

Oh, I’m definitely resourceful, but I think it’s more how incredibly annoying I can be if my persistence isn’t paying off.

Hah! Fair enough. Well, I might just put in a word myself — it’s refreshing to see someone who’s actually willing to learn. Plus, I have no desire whatsoever to see your worst.

I’ll hold you to it. Right, I’m aware that we only have a little bit of time left before I’m marched out of grunt country —

[Webb snorts]

— um, that is — USF territory is what I mean. Anyway, people seem to be enjoying these interviews. So, while you have their attention, is there anything you’d like to say? Any advice?

Hmm. Well, I suppose the first thing is to pay attention. Your safety isn’t just important to you, it’s also important to the expedition as a whole. We’re stronger together, but we’re only as strong as our weakest link. Make sure it’s not you, and if everyone does that, we won’t have any.

[Pauses]

Also…we’ve all sacrificed to be on this mission. Let’s make sure that we make the most out of it. Keep your focus, do your training, watch your friends. That’s about it.

Words to live by. Thanks for taking the time to talk!

By Ellie Jensen | June 20, 2094, 7:23pm

Usually when I’m trying to interview a high profile individual, persistence is the name of the game. Schedules are packed, timings are difficult, and the more important my potential subject is, the more people they’ve usually hired to stop reporters like myself getting through. Not so with Uzoma. As might be expected from the man once quoted as saying “I’m not a PR person, I’m a people person,” I had barely started putting feelers out before I got a private message inviting me to have a chat.

Uzoma’s chosen an interesting place for our interview. When I reach DEEP’s labs, I’m directed to continue on, and take a cramped elevator up to the gantries far above the ground. It’s an impressive view, to be sure — from up there, I have a birds eye view of the entire lab complex, and can watch DEEP’s scientists and technicians hard at word with all of their indecipherable experiments. There’s a huge sofa up there, incongruously placed on the metal grating that serves as the gantry’s floor, and I take the hint, sitting down. There’s no one else on the gantry.

As I wait, I try to work out how they got the couch up there. It’s far too big for the elevator I used, and I don’t see any other way up other than ladders.

Then I’m not alone anymore. A tiny holo-emitter floats up to my level, and suddenly Uzoma is sitting right in front of me. I have to fight hard to maintain my composure; this is a man who’s beloved by billions for his creation of the ReVerb social network, and millions more for his leadership of DEEP and their space program. And here he is, grinning like he’s just played a practical joke on me.

Here’s what we talked about.

So, Uzoma! The man, the myth, the legend. Thanks for agreeing to meet.

No problem! I try to find time to meet my people whenever I can. Although…sometimes they make that more difficult than it needs to be. I was surprised that you started your series with Aksenov. After all, I made this ship — he’s just the driver. If you want explanations on how it all works, you should have come to the source…”

[Laughs] Well, here I am now. Speaking of working, it’s amazing to see everyone from up here, even if I don’t understand anything of what’s going on.

Yeah, I’m glad you like it. I had them build this gantry so that I could see what my people are doing — I love being in the middle of things, and it’s important to me that people know I’m there with them. Not one of those bosses that just hangs back and never gets seen, you know? [Laughs] I’m just another member of the team around here.

I’m sure they’re happy to see you! As you say, it’s not always that a multi-company CEO has such an active presence. I’m sure that it requires a lot of planning to maintain that whilst taking care of all the other work that you’ve got to do on the ship.

You know, you say that, but not really! It’s second nature at this point. Plus, I put a lot of work into hiring people to make sure everything runs smoothly. I’m an enabler, you know? [Laughs] That sounds bad, but it’s true. What I mean is, I want to make sure people get to do the stuff that matters. Part of that is delegating authority to people that know what they’re doing, and letting them run with it.

But not too far… [I gesture at our position overlooking the labs]

Ahh…I can see how it must look, but I can assure you I’m no control freak. Actually, to be totally honest, I don’t really know what they’re doing. The only thing I know is that productivity has risen by 45% since my team has become aware that I’m just a holo-emitter trip away. I’m in the process of implementing the same technology on Earth, incidentally. DEEP needs to be seen as the pinnacle of technological achievement, so it’s my duty to do everything in my power to see that maintained.

And these…implementations…are how you’re able to be here, despite having obligations on Earth, the Moon, Mars, and now Dolos as well?

Exactly. Everything is important. Too important to just pick one place to be.

Speaking of which, can you talk about your decision to come here via hologram, rather than in-person? I’m surprised, given your eagerness to maintain control of the expedition, that you wouldn’t want to actually be on it.

First of all, I’d say that I am here. I made this hologram technology so that people could experience things that they’d never be able to otherwise. We’re talking, aren’t we?

We are, yes.

Right, and you’re not feeling like you’re all the way up here alone, are you?

I’m–

Exactly. I wanted prospective pioneers to have access through ReVerb. Of course it’s via a private channel, and there’s an element of exclusivity to it — not everyone makes the cut — but everyone gets a chance to be a pioneer. That wouldn’t be possible without holograms, so it’s important that I showcase their viability. After all, I’m a pioneer too — people should look at me and see what’s possible! Journey to new frontiers, all from the comfort of your home. It was a natural progression. ReVerb stands as a digital haven for billions of people, but that shouldn’t have to come at the cost of experiencing the physical world. With holograms, you don’t miss anything.

So, despite the fact that I’d love to breath Dolosian air, I chose to be an example. These are the kinds of sacrifices that you have to make when you’re in my position, but they shouldn’t be ones that my customer-base has to make — this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I’m glad to be the one that enables people to experience it.

So it’s nothing to do with the fact that the journey takes three years, or the potential dangers involved?

No. [Laughs] No, of course not.

Alright. So, what would you say your role in the expedition is?

I’d never be so arrogant as to say I’m the leader, per say. This is a highly complex joint enterprise between a lot of very important, very intelligent people. We made sure of it — they’re the best people for the job. Someone needs to make sure that humanity comes first — that humanity’s best interests are served on this new world. I feel like we’re friends, so I can talk about things that I wouldn’t otherwise. So I don’t mind confiding in you…I don’t think that everyone on this expedition is looking to the future — there are so many people looking to the past. You know what I mean?

I think so, yes. So what you’re saying is that you see yourself as maybe…a shepherd? Someone who keeps people focused?

Hmm, exactly. You know what I want to talk about? The Cosmic Chameleon. Now that’s a story, right? Crazy to think we’d find alien life right on this ship. When I first heard stories about the thing, I knew immediately that they were true. There’s so much mystery in the world, right, so some things like that have to be true. There are too many sightings. There’s too much evidence.

Have you seen it yourself?

Does it matter? Soon everyone will be able to. In fact, I think that the Chameleon really represents our expedition.

How, exactly?

Well, I’m glad you asked! I’ve made sure that we’re bringing it to ReVerb soon — I like to reward people who support the expedition, and I think giving people the opportunity to purchase amazing limited edition merchandise like that is the way to do it.

Right, yeah. Okay, so, the expedition. It’s a massive undertaking, but you do have a ton of people supporting it. With all that support, with all that potential, what do you think the future is for Dolos?

So…Dolos…it’s just dirt. Plants? Sure. Animals? Evidently. But it’s just…it’s just dirt, right? But…what Dolos truly is…is what it represents. And what it represents is nothing less than the future of humanity. We’ve all fought hard for every scrap of what we have nowadays, but we’re all aware that time is running out for our original little ball of dirt. Earth is old, and we’ve done a lot of bad, bad s*** to her. And so we’ve expanded, and we’ve run, and we’ve built…but all within our solar system, and all out of need. We need resources. We need space. We need more.

Dolos…Dolos isn’t about need. It’s about hope. We’ve been surviving on little scraps of hope for so long, we’ve all forgotten what it’s like to truly believe in it. No, this is the real deal. Dolos is the true next step for humanity.

I can almost see the headlines now. So, I have to ask — you seem like someone with a lot of drive, but your path has varied wildly throughout your life. From fashion as a teenager, to tech with ReVerb, to space travel and colonisation with your acquisition of SPA (later renamed DEEP, of course); what has driven you to pursue such an eclectic mix of areas? Areas in which you may not have any expertise in?

Truthfully, I’m just always looking to the future. I have an instinctive understanding of what we as a species should do, and it’s served me very well. These areas may seem disparate, but everything is linked in some way or the other.

I’ll always be impressed by what our mind can do. For ReVerb, I didn’t know that much about the tech-world, but I had an idea. For our planet, you see? So, I learned everything I could about technology, sociology, psychology…etcetera etcetera. When they make documentaries about people like me, they portray us as creative geniuses, with ten ideas a minute. [He mimics his head exploding and laughs.] Surprisingly that’s not actually too far from the truth, but…

They never show the failed plans, or the long sleepless nights, or having to read everything you can find about the technicalities of computer networks…anyway, I know a ton of stuff. I have knowledge on anything I do. But, as for expertise…expertise is easy. Expertise is just about having the right amount of money to buy the right people.

Well, it certainly seems to have worked for you. At a time when electricity taxes were becoming prohibitively expensive, you provided the human race with ReVerb, paying the energy cost for everyone, giving access to free entertainment and social media for billions —

And 20 years later, I’m still keeping my promise! It’s as important now as it was then — more so, in fact. We’re seeing the greatest technology-driven class divide since the dark ages. I mean, if it’s entrenched enough that people start to come up with grandiose names like the “neon divide”, you know something has to be done before everything falls apart.

I agree. That’s not all you’ve done though, is it? You helped revolutionise humanity’s space program, and are a leader in the efforts to bring us to a new world. So, with all that said, you’ve got billions of people who look up to you, follow you, hell even practically deify you. What’s it like being put on a pedestal by people like that?

It’s right. No, I see the look on your face, I know it’s [laughs] a lot to hear that. But I’m honest, right? Why shouldn’t people look up to me? I got here for a reason, and all people want is to get to where I am. But mostly, they can’t. Very, very few can, and those are the people that I keep an eye on, help out here and there, watch them grow. But yea, for most people, I’m an example. People didn’t put me on a pedestal, I climbed up here myself with my blood, sweat and tears. So, if people want to look up, they can. I’ll still be up here if any of them want to climb to stand with me.

What advice would you give to those climbers? Young entrepreneurs and the like?

Stay hungry. Never accept that someone is better than you, at anything. Adapt, be tenacious, and if you’re doing it right, you’ll succeed.

And how will they know? You’ve succeeded, by anyone’s definition of it. So, how does it feel? Are you happy?

[Laughs] I’ve definitely succeeded. I’ve — you know what, happiness is…I mean what is happiness, right? If you’re succeeding, you’re — you’ll know when you’ve succeeded, because you’ll be big. And happiness? It’s…it’s…you know what? It’s…it is…

[His hologram disappears.]

I thought I’d better include a quick afterword, since readers are likely to feel some measure of the surprise and confusion I did regarding the abrupt end of the interview. I waited for a few minutes for Uzoma’s hologram to reconnect, but eventually the holo-emitter left, and so did I.

Hopefully we’ll get a chance to continue our conversation some other time.

– Ellie

By Ellie Jensen | June 9, 2094, 9:48pm

It’s a Wednesday evening aboard the Columbus1, and the shift change has sent a surge of tired crewmates filing into mess halls and crew quarters across the ship. Where I’m sitting though, the usual social-induced cacophony has faded to a faint background susurration, and the high-backed armchair and even higher quality cognac have lulled me into a near-meditative state, despite my illustrious company.

I’ve finally managed to secure an interview with Captain Leonid Aksenov, no mean feat given how utterly packed his schedule is. However, if he’s impatient about me taking him away from more important matters, he doesn’t show it — I’ve been invited to his private quarters to conduct the interview. He reclines in a similar chair to the one I’ve sunk into, favouring me with an expression of reserved encouragement that puts me in mind of my singing tutor back on Earth.

Here’s some of what we spoke about.

So, thanks for taking the time to talk with me. I know there’s a ton of different things that you’ve probably got on your mind at the moment, and even more people who want to get your say on one thing or another. Speaking of which, how many people are there actually on the ship?

That’s actually a more complex question than it might at first seem. I’m in direct command of just over two thousand personnel that make up the Columbus1 crew, but there’s about that number again in civilians from the corporations that make up the expedition.

Wow, yeah, that’s a lot to keep track of. I notice you’re very precise about the split between the two groups — isn’t the expedition supposed to be a joint enterprise?

It is. Nonetheless, it’s important to distinguish between those that are under my direct care, and those that I’d consider passengers on the vessel. There are those that would seek to blur those lines, but it’s not always in my crew’s best interests, so I maintain as strict a boundary as I can under the circumstances.

You say it’s not always in your crew’s best interests — are you referring to the influence of the corporations? Have you had any problems with them?

The corporations — or more specifically Milinda — funded this mission. Without them we wouldn’t have been able to come out here. However, I think…I think that the individuals who fly under corporation banners have become accustomed to a certain way of viewing the world. Sometimes that leads to…disharmony…in our alignment. It’s my job to shield the crew from the more hardline elements within those groups.

Diplomatically stated. So, would you say that’s one of your driving motivations, protecting the crew?

Absolutely.

Could you tell me about some others?

I think that exploration is a big motivator for people around here. Everyone wants to be a pioneer, and I’m no different in that regard. Throughout human history, there have always been those who pushed at the edges of the map, but it’s been more and more difficult to do as the scale increased. I think a lot of people, myself included, believe that this is the greatest endeavor of our lives.

I’m one of them too. Do you think you’ll get a chance to set foot on Dolos?

Oh, certainly. I suspect it will feel…resonant.

Like a new chapter, right? I think a lot of people already feel that way. Do you think it’ll be dangerous there?

Of course. Though the plan is to clear safe zones, the more sensibly-minded of us will be on a war footing.

War? I’d expect to hear that kind of terminology from one of the USF lot.

Hah. Yes, old habits die hard. We’re not a military vessel, but I like to treat it like one. It makes things cleaner, more precise. If we get in trouble, the drills that are being trained into everyone on this ship will save lives. Some of the scientists are still treating it like a field trip, but I have high hopes they’ll snap out of it in time. Most of them, anyway.

Do you think that the Columbus1 is suited for the challenges ahead of it?

This ship will hold. It may be freshly-built, but it’s built old. The corpos knew what they were doing in that regard—the ship has been built to withstand anything Dolos will throw at us.

Is there anything about the construction that stands out to you as particularly interesting?

There are many. This ship does away with a lot of the high-tech nonsense that clutters most vessels these days, and it’s better for it. Against the kind of electromagnetic interference that Dolos will throw at us on the regular, all that new, delicate frippery just breaks. No, Columbus1 was built as analog as possible. I particularly like the landlines that they’ve set up for communication around the vessel. Sure we have to maintain a standing crew to operate the things and transfer connections, but they’re easily repaired, and insulated from interference in a way wireless transmissions can’t hope to achieve.

It’s certainly fascinating. What about the reactor? I know there was a lot of concern back on Earth about using nuclear energy again.

I can’t say I understand much about that unfortunately, especially with all the rhetoric being thrown about on both sides. What I do know is it’s reliable, and we can’t run out of fuel. That seems like all I need to know, as long as proper safety precautions are taken.

So, nuclear power, analog tech, a new world — with all that going on, what do you think your most memorable moment has been so far?

I think its probably how people have reacted to travelling for such a long time together. These are people from all walks of life, who beforehand would never have given a second glance to each other. Crew, corpo, civilian…they’re all just clinging together. I think my most memorable moment would be the first time I saw a party after we entered the wormhole. It was in one of the mess halls, and Mr. Grant had opened up some of the alcohol rations — far more than I’d have thought we had, if I didn’t know the man. People were just blowing off steam, dancing, laughing…I think it’s then that I knew for sure we’d make it.

[Laughing] Sorry, I’m sure that’s a lot to hear.

No, no, it’s great to hear from you as a person, rather than a figurehead. I totally agree. So, in that vein, what do you like to do to relax? You’ve got more steam to blow off than most, I’d imagine.

Well, you’re right, I don’t get the opportunity very often nowadays. But, when I do, it’s usually enough for me to find a quiet moment. I was quite specific in my specifications when they were building this ship, so this room mirrors my reading room back on Earth — it’s a place where I can breathe easier, and enjoy a drink or two in the quiet hours.

Do you have friends on the ship? I suppose it must be difficult in a leadership position like yours.

I’m very selective with the people I spend time with, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. And to be honest, a lot of the time I find it’s more relaxing to be alone, as far away from everything as one can be in the circumstances. But, yes, I do have a few close friends who I meet with every now and again. You don’t think I drink all this cognac myself, do you?

Well, when it’s this good, I’d certainly be tempted. What do you get up to with them?

It’s a bit of a stereotype, I’m sure, but poker. That and just conversation, telling stories. Just so long as you don’t believe a thing they say most of the time. As my grandfather said, all good tales deserve embellishment.

I like that. So, we’re almost out of time, but there’s one last question I have for you. Just as a…disclaimer, I guess, this one comes from the crew, so sorry if it seems weird. Anyway — what do you think about the stories of the Cosmic Chameleon? Do you think it’s real?

[Laughing] Well, I can honestly say I didn’t expect that one. Look, the serious answer is that I truly hope that we don’t have an alien life-form roaming around the ship, even if the exploits attributed to it are mostly harmless. Indeed, this is a research vessel — we’ve got quarantine procedures, and monitoring, just so that such an eventuality shouldn’t be possible.

The question is though, why spoil the fun? I’m sure some people have expected me to crack down on the stories, especially when they’ve been used to explain misdemeanor and acts of petty theft. However, this isn’t my first crew. In my time, I’ve seen all sorts of myths, fairy tales, good luck charms and such sprout from the collective consciousness of those I’ve served with. Travelers in any form are a superstitious bunch, and it comes with the territory. The trick is to let people do their job. Anything that improves morale serves that purpose, and when we’re so far from home it’s important that people band together over little figments like that. These small stories– these are the kind of things that build a culture, and I’m not going to get in the way of that. [Laughs] Just let me know if you see it yourself.

I’ll be sure to do that. Thanks for the drink!

Eric was not having a good day.

There was always work to do as a repairman on a ship the size of the Columbus1. Scheduled maintenance, repair requests, fixing other people’s mistakes. Simple stuff. The trouble was, Columbus1 wasn’t a normal ship. It’d been built…if he was honest, he had no idea why it’d been built the way it had. He’d received a briefing on the basics (something about electromagnetic abrasion frying normal components) but they’d made the mistake of sending some DEEP technician to explain things, and the nervous, soft-spoken man had almost immediately lost the attention of the room, Eric included.

No. Columbus1 wasn’t a normal ship, he reflected as he ducked under another hydraulics pipe protruding from the bulkhead. Columbus1 was a pain in the ass.

Everything was custom built. It was all newly made, which was good, he supposed, but it was all ancient in design. On a regular basis, he found himself in charge of repairing components that he’d sworn he’d seen in museums back on Earth. It was all analog, all bulky, and all barely decipherable to someone who’d grown up this side of the industrial revolution. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if some of it ran on steam, the way some of the components hissed and clanked. The benefit, he’d been told, was that though the components may have been built with as much technological complexity as a brick, they’d also last as long as one, requiring fewer repairs.

That, he’d quickly realised, was a goddamn lie.

Everything was breaking. Machines that he’d repaired last week would come in on the logs as broken. Mechanisms that were well oiled the other day seized up, plunging areas of the ship into darkness. Hinges the size of his thumb snapped off, sending bulkheads crashing on top of people when they used them. And the metal…he had no idea what kind of new metal they used for the ship, but the stuff was corroding like nothing he’d seen before. Even the stuff that was fresh out of the box showed signs of degradation.

His boots clanging on the metal walkway, he glanced out of a porthole as he passed it. The view, such that it was, hadn’t changed. Darkness, lit from within by lurid flashes of dancing electricity.

The lights in the corridor flickered and died.

“Great.”

He pulled a torch from a belt-loop. The thing weighed a ton, but as he pressed the bulky switch on the side a bright beam of light lanced out, holding steady and illuminating the passageway ahead. It, at least, could be relied upon, which was more than could be said for the generator he’d been sent to fix.

He moved along the maintenance tunnel, noting with displeasure how some of the mesh panels making up the walkway flexed and creaked as he put weight on them. Not good. Not good at all.

The door to the generator room was sealed, a dull red glow shining from bulkhead light above. He moved up to it and sniffed, satisfied. The maintenance hasp had been installed correctly, proving that at least someone knew how to follow protocol. He fished around in his overalls for the key. The torchlight bobbed, catching the hazard-stripes on the lock. After a moment, he found what he was looking for, and pulled the thick metal key from his pocket, fitting it into the lock which opened with a resounding clunk.

Grunting, he removed the hasp and spun the door’s mechanism. It screeched as it opened, the sound echoing down the hallway behind him. He stepped inside.

Generator Room 5 was middle-of-the-pack when weighed against the scale of its fellows, but it was still huge. A space the size of a small house had been reserved for the room, but such a thing was necessary, as it was utterly filled with machines. The generators were colossal, archaic things, and kicked out enough noise to deafen unprotected ears. There were four of them in the room, and when he’d been given the alert three had been functional. Now, all were motionless, amber alert lights flashing on their control panels. Everything was quiet.

He got to work. After disconnecting the power supply feeding the generators, he opened a hatch on the side of the first.

“Ah.”

It wasn’t hard to see what had gone wrong with this particular machine. A fastening bolt had sheared clean off, and judging by the state of the gears nearby, had pinging inside to wreak havoc. He rested his torch on a nearby support so that its light still shone on the generator’s inner workings, then unclipped a bag from his side. He pulled his tool roll from inside. Unrolling it on the ground, he glanced down at the collection of screwdrivers, wrenches and other paraphernalia he’d brought with him, before looking up again at the chewed-up gears inside the generator. They’d need to come off first. He knelt down to examine them closer.

The torch went out.

He lurched in surprise and stumbled, head colliding with the generator housing. The impact exploded stars across his vision, and he fell, breath bursting from him as he hit the ground.

For a while, he just lay there, splayed out on the cold metal, trying to force air back into lungs that refused to cooperate.

Eric was really, really not having a good day.

A low whine escaped his lips. The sound was so unexpected, so pathetic, that it cut through his self-pity. Grumbling, he rolled over, rubbing at the large welt that had swollen on his forehead. Light stabbed at his eyes.

The torch was back on.

He stared for a moment, anger boiling up. Lurching to his feet, he grabbed the offending item, shaking it in exasperation. Something inside rattled. He took a breath and inspected the battery panel. The thing was starting to show signs of corrosion around the edges.

“Just like everything else on this ship…” he muttered.

Thankfully, no one had been around to see his embarrassment. One of the few benefits of his job, he supposed. He winced. A constant, throbbing pain radiated from his head, causing him to sway slightly.

Right. Nothing for it. Just complete the job, and get some sleep. He looked down.

His tools were missing.

His tools were missing.

“What?” Eric scanned the floor. Nothing.

Surely he’d kicked them when he fell, and they’d just be over…or around…or…

Nothing.

“What the…” he snatched the torch up, shining the light into the crevasses of the generator.

Nothing.

“What the hell?!”

His voice echoed back at him, bouncing off the ceiling far above.

Something metallic rattled. The sound came from the other end of the room, somewhere beyond the generators. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. His vision blurred, and he focused with effort.

“Hello?” he called.

The ship creaked and hummed. No response came.

“Hey, anyone there?”

He began to move towards the rear of the room. Even the emergency lights were dead this far back, and the darkness closed in, a near-physical weight pressing against his mind.

“Hey look I’m warning you, the first person that jumps out at me is getting knocked out.” The threat felt weak, his voice quivering slightly. His heart began to pound.

A soft purple glow was coming from behind the generators at the back of the room. As he neared, he could see wisps of some sort of mist covering the ground. Tiny specks of light danced in the mist. His headache was worse now, and his surroundings swayed in time with each step.

“H-hello?” his voice caught, barely a whisper. He rounded the corner.

A door was open ahead of him — the room’s supply closet. The glow was coming from inside.

He crept forward. Pausing, he listened. There was a slight metallic tinkling inside.

He jumped forward, shining the light inside the closet. His eyes widened.

The far end of the closet was filled.

A pile of detritus rested on the floor, the heap made of seemingly random items. Mess hall plates rested on piles of odd socks. Weapon parts were tied together with necklaces made of silver, steel or gold. Binoculars lay on dented cans of paint. A bunch of indeterminate metal gears were threaded by a United Earth flag. Some sort of drone lay dismantled, its insides filled with crayons. Over all of this, the thin mist rolled, sparkling. It flowed around his legs as he moved closer, fascinated by the bizarre sight.

The door slammed behind him. He whirled round, and shrieked.

There was a thing on the ceiling.

Huge orange eyes stared at him, set in a reptilian face. Green-blue skin shimmered, and a purple crest ran down its spine towards an undulating tail with two ends. Vents that dotted its back, gently billowing the mist that covered the floor. It must have been the size of his chest, but clung to the concrete without effort, anchored by stubby limbs that sported hands with widely padded fingertips. It looked like a lizard, like the chameleons he’d seen back on Earth, but utterly other. As it moved, some of its edges seemed indistinct, the colours of its skin changing to star-speckled purple before fading from vision entirely.

Eric stood, rooted to the spot. He wasn’t sure if he should fight it, or try and get past it, or if he even could. He couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t even really think at all. One word filled his mind, pushing out any other rational thought.

Alien.

The thing cocked its head. Eric gasped, realising that he’d said the word out loud. It hopped down from the wall, and he stumbled backwards, falling for the second time to sit against a shelf. It moved closer, walking with a strange waddling, hopping motion, and he brandished the torch.

“Get — get back!” he managed.

Its eyes sparkled, and he had a moment to wonder if that was amusement on its face, or if it could even feel amusement, before it opened its mouth, and its tongue shot out, wrenching his torch from his grip. He yelped, pressing himself against the shelving.

The chameleon — for the more he thought about it, chameleon seemed like the right word — took his torch from its mouth with dextrous hands, examining it. Seemingly satisfied, it hopped forward, moving from shelf to shelf in bursts of speed, landing on the pile of items next to him. It began to pick up pieces, glancing at them for a moment before discarding them. It seemed utterly focused on its task.

Eric began to edge towards the door, keeping his eyes on the creature. The chameleon continued rummaging. It chittered occasionally, the mist spilling from its back surging and receding as if in time with its thoughts. If it could think at all, that was — but that would be for the science types to argue about, once he’d got this door open. He fumbled for the handle, wincing at the noise, but the creature appeared to have lost interest in him. He risked looking away, and grabbed the handle. Surging to his feet, he tore the door open, and moved to run through.

Pop.

The chameleon was perched on the generator in front of him, looking at him. He skidded to a halt, gasping. With a sickening lurch, he realised that meant he was surrounded, and spun to look at the one in the closet, expecting to see it creeping up behind him with his back turned.

There was nothing there. More than that though, there was nothing there. The closet was empty of the items that had filled it, containing no more than bare metal shelves and a rapidly dissipating mist.

Pop.

He turned once again. The chameleon squatted in front of him, that same expression of amusement on its face. It was holding something clutched to its chest. It took a moment, but then Eric straightened in recognition, all fear forgotten.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

The chameleon placed Eric’s tool roll down on the ground, followed a second later by his torch, which he hadn’t noticed it had been holding with its tail. It chirped again, and hopped onto the generator, watching him. He snatched up his tools, glaring up at the creature. It jumped in place, chittering. Then, the mist surrounding it billowed forth, folding around its body, and vanished.

Pop.

The mist began to dissipate, leaving Eric staring at the spot it had occupied. The purple glow faded, leaving him to stand illuminated only by the red emergency lighting that remained. He turned, half expecting the creature to be standing behind him, but there was nothing.

It was gone.

“They are never going to believe me,” he murmured. The headache had subsided somewhat, but his vision still blurred slightly if he tried to focus too much. Upon reflection, he decided the generators could wait. He…he probably needed to see a doctor.

He took a step forward, and frowned. Something felt off about the weight of his tool roll.

Placing it on the ground, he unrolled it.

“That little freak stole my wrench!”

[ Excerpt from Milinda Employee Personal Audio Log | Confidential | USF ]

[ Log ID: 53231 | Milinda ID: 8732 | 19–09–2085 ]

[ VOICE RECORDING STARTS ]

I’m not totally sure why I’m recording this. I might listen to it again at some point, I guess? Depends how messed up things get.

I’m not allowed to talk to anyone. No one that cares, anyway, or that I care about. No one that I can trust.

So, I guess it’s just me and…me.

If you’re listening to this, first of all, hey. I guess we made it, and didn’t get ferried off to some USF black site once we finished our work. So that’s good.

[Sounds of shuffling paper can be heard.]

Look, I’m just going to keep talking like it’s me that’s listening. If it’s not — well, there’s nothing I can do about it, but [****] you.

Anyway, you know how much I hate doing this kind of thing. We’ve never been the best at talking to people even when they were around. And no, the shrinks don’t count. If someone forces you to do something, you don’t get to turn around and pretend it’s character growth. But I figure I’ve got to get this off my chest or I’m gonna go crazy, so here I am, talking to a box.

I don’t know how much you remember about the start of things. It’s only been a couple months, and my feelings on it seem to vacillate between rabid excitement and existential dread on a weekly basis. Hopefully by the time you’re listening to this we’ve got a more well rounded opinion of 2085, but for now it’s all just…a lot.

So, the beginning.

April 2085. Not sure what day it was. At the time we were still working at the Indonesia site. You know the one. I thought I was working pretty standard aeronautics stuff at that point—research into some of that new carbon composite, experimental drone prototype drag coefficients, influence of electromagnetic forces on propulsion systems. Nothing R&D does is “routine”, per say, but that kind of scattershot speculative stuff is about as close to it as you get.

Something about that last one though…it got someone, somewhere, real interested.

As you know, “reassignment” can mean a lot of things in our work. Sometimes it’s just a project change, sometimes it’s demotion, forced retirement…hell, sometimes it’s just a pretty way of saying “someone wasn’t acting in their own best interests for a little bit too long, forget about them and try not to lose sleep over it.” So, I don’t mind telling you that I was more than a little nervous when I got called into Viben’s office and the term started getting thrown around. It’s a hell of a thing, sitting in a chair in front of your boss, with no idea what you’ve done and no idea what’s going to happen to you.

I’m sure you remember Supervisor Viben, so it’ll come as no surprise what a [****] he was about the whole thing. Whereas the better bosses I’ve had would let me know nothing was wrong, or put my mind at ease before elucidating, he just sat there letting me stew. I think he enjoyed the power trip to be honest. So, I waited there for an hour, him waxing lyrical about the importance of the work Milinda does, me sweating and trying not to feel like I was on trial.

Then, finally, he tells me what’s going on. There’s a project, he says. Something on the moon. Something big.

Now, at the time he told me he didn’t know anything about it, and he looked vaguely offended when I pressed him on it, but I’m not stupid. It could only really be one thing.

Dolos. I didn’t know how, but it had to be Dolos.

You remember what it was like back then. Those first images coming through from the drones. A new world. A perfect new world, just waiting for us. Things had been so bad for so long, and then…Dolos.

So, yea. He was playing Mr. “I’m so important, it’s need-to-know myeh myeh myeh,” but I knew. Question was, what was the job, and what the hell did it have to do with me?

He gave me nothing. Just told me to pack my bags, and that further details would follow.

“That’ll be all, Melson.” No good luck, no parting remarks, nothing. I worked with that guy for seven years. Such a [****]. Anyway, I hear he’s still there, and I’m up here now, so apparently there’s some justice in the world.

They didn’t waste any time, let me tell you. By the time I got back to my room, the message was already waiting on my terminal. That in itself was surprising — I’d still had to finish my work for the day, so when I got back it was well over curfew. In all normal circumstances, my power should have been off for the night. That was the spookiest thing, now I think about it. Unlocking the door, slumping onto the couch in the dark, and then realizing it wasn’t dark at all, because my PC was on.

Unlocked. Email up on the screen. Waiting.

Apparently someone wanted to make an impression.

They succeeded. I haven’t felt that sense of otherness much in my life, but it’s not something that you forget when it happens. For all we normalize life as it is now, there are still moments where you remember that for all you’re used to swimming, there are still some very big fish in the water with you.

Eventually, I got hold of myself enough to read the email. Reassignment to a new project. Travel off-island, to a site that apparently existed somewhere in the Aussie Northern Territory. Tickets in my name sent to relevant authorities. Leave tomorrow, AM. More details on arrival.

I powered down my terminal, packed what little I owned into a suitcase, and went to bed. As you can imagine, I didn’t get much sleep.

I got up the next morning, intending to say goodbye to some people before I left. Also, I hadn’t expected things to move so quickly, and there were some odd bits and pieces I’d left behind in my workstation that I wanted to pick up. I had time, since the short walk to and from the offices wouldn’t put too much of a dent in my schedule. Benefits of living on site, I suppose. Unfortunately, my journey stopped abruptly at the security checkpoint because, as the rather apologetic security guard informed me, my credentials didn’t work anymore.

They’d already removed my clearance for the site.

That put kind of a dent in my morning, but it’s not like there was anything I could do about it, so I seized the unexpectedly abrupt end to that chapter of my life and bailed with nothing but my suitcase and a “screw you” attitude.

The journey to the Australian mainland was nothing special, but it was long. The Indonesia posting had been my longest one to date, but it was far from the only one under my belt. In my experience, the company has a fairly blasé attitude to shifting around its workforce, and I’d been all over the world by that point. Well, not all over the world, but a decent chunk. In my experience, with everything going on in the world and some of the weird places Milinda has their sites, boring journeys are good. Nothing dampens your enthusiasm for excitement more than USF mass-interrogations after a railway hub gets bombed, let me tell you.

Right. So, yea. Six days on some near-deserted freight ship, which sucked. I knew it had been too much to hope that I’d interested someone enough to get a seat on one of the few flights still running off-island, but it still pissed me off having to bunk in that creaking pile of junk. It was only made worse on the clear nights, when I had to watch the occasional distant lights of the sub-orbital transit craft overtaking us, racing onward to my destination without me. The only other passengers were also (surprise surprise) Milinda personnel, but they knew as little as I did, and proved to be as tight lipped as they were dull.

But anyway. Australia. To tell you the truth, I didn’t get to enjoy much of it. I arrived at the port — Gove, I think it was called — and found a bus waiting for us. We piled in, and spent something like the next twenty-six hours or so being driven inland. Absolutely mind-numbing stuff — trips that length, all the landscape starts just blurring, and I honestly can’t remember a thing of it other than the boredom.

One night, I was shaken awake to find we’d reached our destination. I don’t know what I expected to find — probably another of the standard-layout Milinda compounds I’d spent so much of my life in. The length of time I’d spent travelling had dampened my sense of speculation rather than fueling it, so I’ll be honest when I say I expected to be turfed out of the bus, given a cabin number and told some meeting room code to find the next day.

What I didn’t expect was a launch site.

Given the expressions on the faces of the other bleary-eyed travelers, none of them had been holding out on me in our brief interactions; they were just as astonished as I was. Concrete made up a flat plain as far as the eye could see, the barren landscape dotted with mound-like buildings of the same material. As I found out later, most of the infrastructure was underground, with these hillocks the only section poking from the surface. It looked like some lunar wasteland, and as a result my eyes were drawn immediately to the structure in the far distance — a launch tower and its assemblies, holding a huge rocket and its shuttle payload. Even from that distance, there were spotlights pointing at the thing, so you could see the massive white “SPA” logo on the side.

And, after all that time, that’s the way I found out that I’d be leaving Earth behind.

[ VOICE RECORDING ENDS ]

[ Excerpt from Milinda Employee Personal Audio Log | Confidential | USF ]

[ Log ID: 53231 | Milinda ID: 8732 | 19–09–2085 ]