Placing his outdoor gear at their designated places, warmth returned quickly. Seeing Janus’ discomfort, Venn had raised the interior temperature to a balmy 30 degrees celsius in anticipation of his arrival back at the outpost. The small modular fusion reactor, capable of providing nearly a gigawatt of power, and abundance of local tritium fuel made energy management a non issue. Looking at one of the many screens, he checked the printing progress on the environment suit;
‘Atomic scale printing unit 3
Current matter deposition rate: 4.3 x 10^22 atoms/second
Current dynamic matter stream: Xenon-Phase 3a
Current time: 09:45.
EnvSuit_mk4 progress: 78%, 12 hours, 29 minutes remaining’
He could visualize the process within the sealed chamber, the tightly controlled magnetic field rapidly steering the ionized matter stream across the target area, collated by carefully manipulated nozzles, placing each atom at their predetermined coordinates, velocity carefully controlled to minimize splatter effects. Some atoms splatter though, depositing junk at the nozzles and ablating the interior chamber and equipment.
“Almost like magic..Still not fast enough.” He thought.
He rubbed his hands together, feeling the friction and letting the warmth sink into his skin. He didn’t mind waiting, but waiting reminded him too much of his childhood - all the hours spent in waiting rooms and under observation, waiting for someone to decide what he was. Janus knew that these thoughts were destructive, he had spent years fortifying his mind against them, but recent events had eroded these defences like the wind on Ægir does to exposed rock. Pondering on the unnatural abundance of the naturally occurring tritium, Janus’ mind started to wander.
The tests, inquiries, probes… - Were they really necessary? And what gave them the right to go that far? Was he the only one they did that to?
Reaching for the shower faucet and turning it on gave a momentary shock to the senses as cold water rushed over Janus’ form. Taking deep, calming breaths he felt the warmth eventually spread. The water pressure was low, - shit the filters needed cleaning. Having never liked hot showers, he reflected upon his choice to go on this mission, was he really the best candidate, or was it even his choice? It seemed predetermined even though he felt less than qualified. But in the face of empirical evidence, Janus had to concede that he was, in fact, the best candidate. He aced every test, quiz, trial and medical examination. Most importantly he was especially adept on what was arguably the most important trait for this mission - his ability to function under prolonged isolation and pressure. And after all, what more evidence did he want? He was here, wasn’t he? They had chosen him.
Standing there, soaking up the heat and moisture, he began to hum his trusted old melody as a way of counting down before he had to get out of the shower.
“Venn, can you update me on the orbital parameters of the resupply vehicle? Is it still on course?” Janus asked with a sense of unease “Sure, velocity at 11.2 kilometers per second, perigee holding at 60 kilometers, inclination stable at 32.5 degrees—entry angle within margin. High level winds within limits. It’s on track.” “Thanks,” Janus said as he exited the shower, the colder air of the bathroom chilling his body. He didn’t really need the information dump, and there would be nothing he could do to affect the outcome of the ballistic vehicle anyways.
Like most of the rooms at Outpost 8, the bathroom had a floor to ceiling window, a deliberate design choice, not out of opulence, but to fit Janus' psychological profile. His mission, the mission, was built on hope, a collective wish that had consumed the resources of nations. So yes, let the man have his vistas.
Walking towards the drying chamber, looking out over the late morning star lit landscape, squinting, a slight visual distortion appeared above him as the holographic ceiling activated. The anticipated trajectory of the resupply vehicle faded into view. “Hmm, uncanny, Venn.” - He thought.
Entering the chamber, a sudden and familiar blast of hot air rushed downward for a few seconds as the chamber activated its powerful heaters and fans. The slight smell of ozone filled his olfactory awareness, briefly transporting him back to the drive test chambers back home.
Outside, the wind had subsided somewhat, and snow had stopped drifting. An icicle on an overhang beside the window began dripping slowly. Observing this, Janus felt a faint rush. Was it excitement, dread? Lacking a clear mind, he took a deep, shivering breath and spoke to Venn, “You feel that, too?” “Yes, Janus, I feel it. Do you want to address it now or at dinner?” Furrowing his brow, Janus ruminated. He still had chores, but so far these have not been a good enough distraction to deter his negative spiral. He looked into the mirror, seeing a weary, chiseled face stare back at him. “So this is what it’s come to, I’m really at condition 1? Fuck it!”
“You know what? Just clear the rest of today’s activities. I think I need to rest, maybe play some games.” “Well okay Janus, but you didn’t answer my question.” “Yes. Yes, I'll share my feelings with you using my mouth as well.” Janus forced a slight laugh as he put on his bathrobe, and tapped his wrist watch three times. Captivated by the view from his bathroom, he listened to the espresso machine starting its process to deliver the carefully crafted bean brew, further depleting the dwindling coffee reserves.
Dried off and warm, Janus settled on the comfortable couch in the living room and put the coffee cup on the wooden table, making a soft clunk. The space had been carefully and exquisitely decorated, with walls and ceiling proportioned just so to frame the outside view. The muted, warm colors emphasized the architects' efforts to make the outposts welcoming. Sipping his coffee, he brought up the path for the resupply vehicle. The ceiling became transparent, revealing the wispy clouds of the desolate world. “Nine hours to arrival..” He whispered to himself. The icon tracking the resupply vehicle had a descriptive text -
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
‘Demeter 6
Relative velocity: 11.5km/s,
Mass: 129,923kg
Distance: 362,620km’
Calculated landing site: 32.529N 14.183E’
Tracking the dotted yellow line, Janus identified the landing site to be just by the edge of the sparse, untouched forest, about 6 kilometres distant. ‘’- Hmm, too far to haul most of the goods myself, I’ll just go and grab the coffee beans and any spare parts I might find, weather allowing.’’ His coffee was luke warm now, most of the heat had soaked into his hands. Swiping his right index finger, he brought up a live image of the hemisphere he was on, streamed down from the geostationary weather satellite. A slight hand wiggle brought up a weather forecast for the next three days. “- Fair weather tomorrow, good.” He thought.
A soft clunk, slightly more hollow now, sounded as he set his empty cup back onto the table. Raising his hand, he made a fist, closing the information.
Feeling the soft couch with his hand, he leaned back, breathed and closed his eyes. “Venn, up for a little war?” “Nah, this personal assistant isn’t available for games.” “Well okay then. Stop trying to cheer me up, I’m dealing with some shit” Janus chuckled in reply, eyes still closed. “I wasn’t aware I was trying to cheer you up! - Sure Janus, go get the cards.”
“Venn, you’re cheating, using your mind games to make me shuffle the cards in your favor.” “You know better than most how randomness works, and besides, cheating isn’t in my nature.” “Losing seven times in a row is highly improbable, this is a game of chance, you’re cheating.” “Okay Sherlock, you’ve got me. I might have switched out some cards when you were gone.” Taken a bit aback, Janus shifted slightly on the couch. “Wait-what? You actually cheated?” He asked. “I am sorry to have cheated. But since your mental state is as it is, at condition 1 and all, I took the opportunity to test your level of cognitive degradation, and you passed. You have not lost it completely!” Janus exhaled and relaxed his hands on his head. “Just as protocol dictates…But with cards? Nice touch!” He let out a small chuckle. “Well, it’s nice to be reminded that you’re here for me.” Venn didn’t reply right away. Janus settled further into the couch pillows. He listened to the subdued hum, the ever present sound of ventilation.
The conversations with Venn meandered between a wide range of topics. Eventually he became restless. “I think I need to stretch my legs a bit.” Janus yawned, as he adjusted his center of gravity, stood up from the couch and walked into the hallway, taking a left half way. “How long ‘till the environment suit is done now?” “8 hours and 44 minutes, you won’t miss the entry of Demeter 6.” The stairs going up, made from subtly flowing birch wood, lightly colored and smelling of home, took him into the observation dome of Outpost 8. Providing a three hundred and sixty degree view, the interior of the dome was brilliantly lit by the afternoon star and light reflected by the snow from the hill above.
One half of the dome had walls reaching partway up from the floor. Mounted to that wall a wide desk made from the same, richly textured birch wood as the stairs, held up several physical, old school monitors, a keyboard and a mouse. The dome, constructed from a non-reflective material with a refractive index matching Ægir's air, offered an absolutely clear, unobstructed view of the outside world. As Janus approached the desk, his footsteps reverberated slightly from the curved dome. The monitors activated, displaying various sensor readings, in small efficient user interface windows. “Local sensor readings look fine, Venn, but why are there network faults for outposts three, seven and twenty five?” “Hmm, unsure… - There’s no abnormal ion activity that would indicate any disruptions in radio comms. Could be a software bug—maybe the outpost network nodes aren’t handling packets correctly.” Venn replied in a low voice. Janus drew in a sharp breath. “Well, I promised myself I’d relax for the rest of the day.” Stretching and swinging his arms, he tried to ignore the tension he felt building up.
He pivoted and walked towards the gray, low profile treadmill facing the view outside. “Ten kph please.” He said as he stepped onto the hard, rubber-like membrane. A slight hum, amplified by the dome, was quickly drowned out by the rhythmic thumping of Janus’s running. Jaws still tight, felt the monitor's presence behind him, taunting him to come look again. He increased his pace, the sensation of breathing occupying more of his mind, his physical exertion acting as a shield. Further upping the tempo, his lungs screaming for air, he kept pushing. Running flat out now, his heart thumped, blood rushed throughout his body filling his ears, he thought he could hear Venn’s voice. Too out of breath to speak, Janus shakily stepped off the treadmill and fell into a heap on the floor. After some time had elapsed, twenty seconds? A minute?
“Did you say something?” Janus asked, still out of breath. “No, Janus, I didn’t.” Venn answered. “I really thought I heard you say something… - Well so much for that shower.” “Regaining his breath, he slowly stood up, being careful not to rush.
His mind kept focusing on the network faults, he had to look at the readings again. Drawn towards the screens, he hesitated for a beat. Did he really need to know right now? His breathing quickened and the edges of his vision became blurry. “I’m not thinking clearly, I should wait.” He lifted his gaze up towards the hill and looked at the trees. His skin started to prickle as he felt his nostrils flare and a heat rising from the base of his neck. “How are you feeling?” “Pretty fucking terrible, Venn…” “I understand. I think it’s time for dinner now Janus.”
“You’re right. I’ll go downstairs now.” Janus muttered.
Reverberating footsteps followed Janus as he made his way down the stairs, each step emanating deep thuds, heart pounding, senses dulled. The smell and sound of dinner being prepared, distant. “Thirsty.” - was his singular focus point now. Unsteadily walking towards the kitchen, the wall provided firm support for his trembling hands. Reaching for the faucet, he flipped the handle and moved his gaze to the cupboard. The tap ran, filling the room with white noise. Opening the cupboard he reached for a cup, feeling the slight coolness of the ceramic, he poured himself some water. As he brought the cup to his lips, he drank greedily, the relief of quenching his thirst a momentary distraction. For the first time in hours, he felt something else—hunger. The slight hum of the outpost surrounded him, the weight on his shoulders lifting slightly as the smell from the food being prepared grew stronger. Janus steadied himself, the network faults could wait—dinner date with his shrink first.