Dramatis Personae
Areanna Clovar, Arvad Specialist Scientist Historian
Hawk Wilder, Arvad Citizen Pilot Tactical Officer
Oscar Skyhawk, Arvad Citizen EVA Technician
Adalian Date 25,036.75 (25,036d 18:00h)
“First and Always!”
Hawk Wilder’s voice rang like a bell, shattering the silence in the cramped room. Dozens of people winced and looked up from their Muses, startled by the noise and sudden movement as Hawk stood and pumped her fists in the air. Her voice bounced off the bare steel walls, her words quickly becoming an unintelligible mishmash of overlapping echoes before diminishing and returning the room to silence.
Areanna Clovar’s ears still rang, so she stuck her little finger into one in pursuit of relief. She was an official credentialed observer of the so-called “simulation,” an aggrandized term for a tiny space with narrow tables and insufficient personal space. Participants were First Alliance recruit hopefuls, mostly made up of native Adalians but with a handful of Arvadians sprinkled throughout. Hawk Wilder was one such Arvadian, a Citizen Areanna had served with right before Arrival.
The recruits began returning their attention to their Muses. Areanna had found that being an Arvadian earned one a degree of latitude in most social situations, but many recruits, regardless, looked annoyed by the disruption. Then, a familiar voice cut through the silence.
“And one giant leap for mankind,” Oscar Skyhawk quipped from two stations over, making exaggerated faces in Hawk’s direction. Oscar was another fellow Arvadian and a childhood friend of Areanna’s.
Hawk spun, looking for the one who dared usurp her moment. “Seal it, Citi boy,” she playfully retorted when she saw Oscar, using derogatory slang popular among Arvadian Specialists in the years following Arrival. As a fellow Citizen, her jab was more a term of endearment than an insult.
“Yes, ma’am, Citi girl,” Oscar replied, linking his thumbs and waggling his fingers to mimic beating wings in the “hawk salute” that was an inside joke between them dating back years.
Several stations over, someone made a “shushing” sound. Hawk extended her hand in the recruit’s direction and raised one finger in an old Earth insult. A soft chorus of chuckles echoed from the room, and Areanna decided it was a good time to interject.
“Hello, Hawks,” she whispered, using the term Oscar and Hawk coined for themselves years earlier during the first of their several failed attempts at romance. She jauntily raised her hands and mirrored Oscar’s “hawk salute” as she approached. Having known the pair for years, Areanna was familiar with their eccentricities. “Shall we step out of the simulator?”
The trio of friends squeezed and contorted through the densely packed room and stepped into a narrow but empty corridor. Areanna took a deep breath and stretched her arms forward, cracking her joints and realigning her shoulders. Beside her, Hawk and Oscar took a moment to perform simple calisthenics, appreciating their newfound personal space.
“It’s a big deal,” Hawk said suddenly and loudly, disrupting their brief respite with another jarring interjection. “I landed the first ship on an asteroid other than Adalia Prime.”
Oscar lowered his head and glared at her incredulously, imitating the anachronistic gesture of judging someone across the rim of one’s spectacles. “What exactly did you do, now?”
Hawk groaned. “Okay, I ‘simulated the first landing.’ It’s still a big deal!”
Oscar laughed amicably. “A big deal to you, perhaps. We’re throwing around play money and piloting fake ships; nothing matters for real. The rest of us are content running our assigned test scenarios.”
“Hey!” Hawk interjected. “None of us truly understood the situation at the start of testnet. It’s not my fault you all lack the imagination to see beyond your basic assignments.”
SWAY, Adalia’s system-wide computing network, began development before Arrival. Each generational ship carried a lightshard of the Ethereum blockchain, the ledger of investment in that ship’s mission. The expectation that colonists would begin on a habitable planet informed the transaction layer models designed by economists, politicians, and blockchain architects before the fleet’s launch. Those models became upended by the Arvad’s redirection to an asteroid belt.
So, the Arvadians conceived a different secondary transaction layer to meet their needs. SWAY, or Standard Weighted Adalian Yield, was designed and built atop the Adalian Ethereum lightshard.
Every computer system in Adalia interfaced with the SWAY network. It provided accurate, transparent recordkeeping and distributed computing power for everyone in Adalia as a service. It also formed the framework of the economic model guiding the free market experiment proceeding in Adalia.
“Testnet” was precisely that: a test. Every asteroid, ship, and transaction, including orbital mechanics and flight plans, was simulated. The vision for the SWAY network demanded transparency, reliability, and scalability, so the testnet’s results faced extreme scrutiny. As the public portion of the testnet proceeded, engineers became fond of saying it was the chance for everyone to “kick the tires.”
Oscar laughed and lifted his arm placatingly, inviting Hawk in for a hug. “You do have more imagination than I do.” Hawk pointedly ignored his raised arm. “But what exactly did you accomplish? These ‘basic assignments’ are critical to prepare for the breadth of possibilities and challenges we’ll experience, or so they say. Why would anyone care about one recruit’s actions over another’s?”
“No reason, I suppose. Except,” she paused, her eyes darting between Oscar and Areanna conspiratorially. “I took the time to consider alternatives to our assignment.”
Oscar choked. “What!? They were adamant that we weren’t to deviate from the processes laid out for us. Why would you take that risk?”
“Yeah, true. I wouldn’t have gone against my designated parameters in a vacuum. It’s kind of wild, actually. An obvious target for testnet was omitted from the dozens or so assigned to us recruits. Like, stupidly obvious.” She pulled her hands apart to imitate an explosion. “So I confirmed its unassigned status in the system and ran it up official channels before our portion started. Someone high up approved my flight there. And now, due to my brilliant piloting or clever strategizing, I am the first person on the SWAY network to orbit, scan, and land on a rock other than Adalia Prime.”
Hawk stared at them with wide eyes, willing them to understand her remarkable accomplishments. Areanna grinned at her friend with delight, catching on very quickly.
Oscar stared back blankly. “I don’t get it.”
Hawk groaned. “We’re in a First Alliance facility, yeah?”
Oscar looked back towards the simulator. First Alliance was a relatively new organization in Adalia. Several former Prime Council members had begun working with a group of Arvadian capitalists to develop their vision for an equitable economic model that benefitted all participants. Most people in this simulation facility were former Arvadian Specialists and Citizens.
While Areanna admired their egalitarian aspirations, her experiences with the Prime Council and centralized authority made the prospect of formal involvement with any alliance undesirable. She preferred to remain a neutral observer.
Hawk, on the other hand, quickly went all-in, believing First Alliance to be her best opportunity for fame and glory. Like many others, she already had the First Alliance logo sewn onto her jumpsuit. The logo, a bold, white numeral “1” on a plain blue background, crossed by an abstraction of a ship in flight, was easy to recognize on her shoulder.
“Granted,” he said, acknowledging the familiar alliance patch adorning Hawk’s jumpsuit.
“So,” Areanna continued, “the odds are good that they’re collecting data, reviewing records, and recruiting officers from our activities here.”
“Yes, obviously, duh!” Hawk complained, gesturing towards Oscar with one hand and slapping Areanna’s shoulder with the other in affirmation. “Seriously, how is that unclear?”
Oscar grimaced. “Ouch, okay, two against one. That makes sense; I surrender.”
The trio laughed. “And what kind of data were you collecting today?” Hawk asked, turning to Areanna.
“Actually, not much. My group is still working out funding, so we don’t have much direction coming into testnet.”
“This finding is for a First Alliance thing?” Oscar asked.
“Areanna has been pretty clear she doesn’t want to be involved with First, dummy,” Hawk said, rolling her eyes.
“It’s fine, Hawk,” Areanna smiled. “I haven’t told many people the plan yet. But you’re right; I am decidedly not associated with any alliance.”
Oscar’s eyes widened. “Ooh, what’s the plan?”
“A few of us from the Arvad have been kicking around the idea of forming a sort of post-transhumanist cooperative libertarian commonwealth business endeavor.”
Hawk and Oscar blinked.
“Honey, that was total gibberish,” Hawk chided. “We need to work on your salesmanship. What she means is she’s convinced some of her Specialist friends to start a farm.”
Oscar nodded in comprehension. “Farms are cool; everyone needs food. How many Specialists have signed up?”
“We envision four crews of five but still need to fill a few more roles. They aren’t all Specialists, either. At least half of our scientists are shaking up to be Citizens, though Murcheson hasn’t decided whether he needs one more engineer or should switch to a scientist for secondary, which could seriously impact how efficiently we can extract salt-”
“Areanna, love, you’re tangent’ing again,” Hawk interrupted, smirking with affection as she used their trigger phrase to refocus Areanna during detail-heavy conversations.
“Right, sorry,” Areanna said, then took a calming breath. A distant look came over her face as she began to count, holding her hands before her eyes and bending each digit forward slightly in rapid sequence. “Fourteen confirmed Specialists with four open positions remaining.”
“Fourteen!?” Oscar exclaimed. “With that many Specialists, how is funding possibly a problem?”
“Good question. I’ve thought the same, honestly,” Hawk said in agreement.
“To be fair, we have raised a good bit of capital. At current testnet rates, we have enough to cover sufficient extractors and a refinery for in situ steel and cement production. Plus a handful of warehouses.”
“That’s an impressive amount of infrastructure. And if you’re producing steel and have access to water, food shouldn’t be much of a problem,” Oscar noted.
“Yes,” Areanna acknowledged, “but only if you can also afford bioreactors. And a factory.”
“Ah,” Oscar nodded solemnly. “I see. That does sound like a hefty fundraising target.”
“So you still need some buildings and… ships?” Hawk guessed.
Areanna nodded. “We’ll have several options, depending on how much SWAY we can raise. Ideally, we’ll start with a spaceport. We estimate shipping the spaceport piecemeal will require at least five transports’ worth of material, four of which would need to remain after delivery to serve as housing. The real question is, precisely how many extractors will we need immediately? Or refineries? We may just require the one refinery, actually, although the benefits to running several of them concurrently…”
She trailed off as she realized Hawk and Oscar were staring at her. Oscar’s mouth hung agape, and Hawk’s left eyebrow had cocked upward nearly ninety degrees. “Um, was I tangent’ing again?”
“Did you say you are planning to ship a spaceport?” Oscar asked incredulously. “The whole building?”
“Ah, well, yes. That’s the plan. Assuming we can afford it. Or,” Areanna grimaced, “whether we find a suitable asteroid. That is also proving difficult.”
“You need buildings and ships and still haven’t found a suitable asteroid?” Hawk said after a moment. “That’s ambitious. You’re talking about an absurd amount of SWAY.”
“And what even are you going to do when you get there? Just farm? That doesn’t sound like you at all,” Oscar opined, squinting his eyes suspiciously. “Is someone forcing you out of the library to fulfill their sick, twisted agrarian fantasies? Blink twice if you’re under duress.”
Areanna laughed and blinked her eyes rapidly at him. “Oh my god, so much duress,” she joked. “But no, my purpose is to document. You’re astute; I don’t want to farm per se. I intend to contribute to the history books. As my ship transports our food across Adalia, we will trade with and meet as many people as possible. And I’ll record their stories. Our story.”
As if on cue, Areanna’s Muse trilled a portion of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, indicating an incoming call. Hawk leaned forward to catch the caller’s portrait and saw a man appearing in his late twenties with blonde hair and a round face.
“Ooh, who is this ‘Jay,’” she teased. “He’s cute. Is he Adalian? Has he had the treatment, or is he actually that young?”
“Cute boy? Let me see!” Oscar said, exaggerating his attempt to see Areanna’s Muse.
“Frack, you guys! Yes, he’s young and Adalian. And I’m sorry, but I need to take this call. Meet you back here at eighteen hundred hours for dinner?”
The Hawks responded by making kissy faces in her direction.
“Yeah, you’re the ones to talk,” Areanna smiled. After fifty years, the Hawks’ off-again, on-again relationship was common knowledge and fair game for mockery. “Byeee!”
She drew her final vowel out sarcastically and waved once more before turning and heading down the corridor. When she was sure her friends were out of earshot, she answered the call.
The young man in the image faded away, his blonde hair becoming dark brown and wrinkles texturing what had been smooth skin. “Jay” did not exist; Areanna invented him to obscure the true identity of her caller from casual observers and nosy friends.
“Hi, Vikram,” Areanna said in a hushed tone once the video synchronized.
“Hey, kid,” Vikram smiled warmly. “Sorry to bother you, but I have some news. You should probably sit down.”