I thought today would start out poorly, but it has turned
out quite well, in the end.
We had rehydrated eggs and grain porridge again today, which I’m beginning to suspect is the usual breakfast for the Moon Base people. Or maybe visitors get the same things over and over? I can’t imagine it’s great for the body to eat the same substance every single day, unless the porridge is fortified with vitamins. And the softness of the food does help in a close to weightless environment – I’ve noticed a little heartburn recently, which might be due to less gravity helping food remain in my stomach.
Samira still looks sick. I must remember to talk to the infirmary for her tomorrow. No one should stay sick from mild kinetosis.
Speaking of kinetosis, we had another cargo landing instruction this morning, which made us all a little dizzy. When we took a break for lunch, no one said anything – not even Chloe, who said just yesterday that she wanted us to get to know each other better. She seemed so sure about initiating it at the time. I wondered if, perhaps, that was something I should do, as well, but I didn’t have long to consider the problem before we were called back into training. Most of us hadn’t finished our soup – not that it was appetizing, it was some thick umami liquid and I couldn’t tell what it was made from. No wonder asteroid miners are so reverent towards Earth. I can only hope that we’re able to grow better food for ourselves, and we don’t have to live on our stores of Nutriloaves for too long.
Things took a turn for the better, though, just after lunch. I’m pleased to say that our disorienting instruction in landing cargo ships is over, and we’ve moved on to something much more my pace – circuitry! We’ll have a product printer to help us with computer parts, using silk and carbon fiber and spun gold to print everything we need from air filters to circuit boards, so we’ll really just need to know how to spot-weld and fit the pieces together.
I know very little about computers, but I’ve read a great deal, whenever I could get my hands on an old book. Yes, one of the old paper ones, I know. They smell funny, they’re mold factories, and the organic particles used for the pages are not only inefficient, but they can cut into your skin, since they have sharp edges! That said, once you get used to them, the cuts almost never happen, and there’s something endearing about browning pages and fading ink, even if books release toxic particulates.
I’m glad we’ve moved past such manufacturing practices as a society, however. It is so much more efficient to read on a tablet, because of the backlight and ease of access.
But back to computers. Our lives in Rabbah will be governed by our computer systems, from air filtration to light cycles to communication, so it’s important for us to know how to maintain these complex machines. Zariah and Yuda took to the process quite easily, since they’re used to dealing with computer waste, but I am surprised by how well most of us learned the basics of changing a crystal core, soldering the transmitter boards, and even welding the storage cases together. We started in on the basics of Shor-Simon Coding – it’s very basic computer coding, but it’s the platform on which all crystal cores run.
Zariah asked about re-entangling the crystal atoms if necessary, which I thought was a great question. Our Bakalov instructor, however, assured us that we could get replacement crystal cores that would be pre-entangled, because it hardly costs a thing to ship those to and from mining operations on asteroids. Zariah didn’t seem pleased by this answer, though. I saw Yuda lean over and quickly whisper to her.
I wonder how the two of them re-entangled cores on Bainbridge Island. I’ve read plenty in the news, as I know all of you have, about the pirates on Bainbridge, entangling crystal cores with other crystal cores to steal information. I can understand that perhaps this expedition’s planners do not think it would be wise for us to have access to that information or the necessary tools, since we have former Araboa going with us. But, it does seem awfully wasteful to ask for a new crystal when we could fix the one we have.
Maybe Yuda would be able to figure it out. Maybe there’s something about being exposed to computers from a young age that makes the work much easier, more natural? Or maybe she just has a genius for patterns. Budur and Chloe also took to the code, and they both sew from their own patterns, so maybe it is just a pattern recognition issue.
I am sorry to report that, although I enjoyed the lesson, I was not that great at the code myself. What I really liked was learning about the ferrous meshes and how they fit around the crystal cores, the lines of gold running throughout flat boards of superlight polymer and how everything fit together, which was much more like sewing to me.
That lesson by itself was 8 hours long, so we worked a much more traditional 12 hours today. I’ve spent so much time alone in my apartment before leaving for this mission that I had almost forgotten how exhausting a day full of physical labor can be. And yet, we all seemed satisfied with our exhaustion as we entered the empty cafeteria for whatever was left over from dinner.
Over bowls of soupy rice with miso-soy protein, Chloe finally spoke up. She suggested, as she did to me, that we all start looking at each other as one caste, more like equals, instead of separate entities.
I was glad when some of the women nodded. I was surprised that Ihsan was one of them, but less surprised that the Araboa women seemed eager at this proposition. Two of the Ikin looked uncomfortable, and Samira stared into the distance – probably from illness more than anything else.
Vivien, a woman with deep-hued skin covered in callouses and scars, sat back in her chair and squinted at Chloe. When Chloe continued to return the stare without backing down, Vivien said, “I’ve worked hard all of my life, on farms, with animals, back-breaking labor like none of the rest of you have ever performed. Why should I respect any of you as equals, when so many of you are just playing a game with this?”
Haven leaned heavily on the table so that she could see everyone, despite her short stature. “We’re all here because Breathe Easy thought our skills were appropriate,” she said. “There were thousands of applicants for this mission, and only 12 of us have been chosen for the first launch, so believe me, no one here thinks this is a child’s game.”
Vivien’s deep laugh resonated scorn through the cafeteria. “I know some of you thought you gardened, or mended clothes, or cooked, but besides Natsuki, Samira, Ihsan, and myself, none of you have had to really fight for survival. You haven’t had to fight through physical exhaustion from a job to fight for your dinner and a place to sleep. Your jobs always gave you what you needed – Ikin jobs are not so kindly.”
Both Araboa sneered at Vivien, who sneered back. Durada stood up before the fight went further. It was strange to see such a quiet, unassuming Bakalov become enraged, but Durada’s face was puffy with suppressed emotion. After a few deep breaths, she said: “I loved my Ikin workers, I provided for them as much as I could. Food, clothing, better shelter than the tents they came to me with. Whole families’ worth of providing. That’s why I’m here, because I fought for you, worked with you, you Ikin. Turns out that society doesn’t like that too much, and my partner died because of that fight. Stress got him. Now I’m here. I’m here because I wanted to treat each caste with some respect, long as each one of us works. So don’t say I’ve never fought for anything.”
She sat down. The silence was squeezing me tighter than Earth gravity.
Ihsan brushed her stringy yellow hair from her face and looked at Durada, then simply said, “Thank you.”
I tried to formulate something brave to say, because it seemed appropriate for Chloe or me to rally the troops, as it were. But Budur, reddish hair and round reddish face and all unassuming Senfte charm, got there first.
“We were told that we need to teach each other our skills at some point, anyway,” she started, looking around the table. “Perhaps we should start with something as simple as a get-together, after daily classes. Instead of spending our time separately, we should knit together, for example. Europa sounds cold, and I know a great sweater pattern.”
Some still had shifty eyes around the table, but we all verbally agreed to try it.
We had rehydrated eggs and grain porridge again today, which I’m beginning to suspect is the usual breakfast for the Moon Base people. Or maybe visitors get the same things over and over? I can’t imagine it’s great for the body to eat the same substance every single day, unless the porridge is fortified with vitamins. And the softness of the food does help in a close to weightless environment – I’ve noticed a little heartburn recently, which might be due to less gravity helping food remain in my stomach.
Samira still looks sick. I must remember to talk to the infirmary for her tomorrow. No one should stay sick from mild kinetosis.
Speaking of kinetosis, we had another cargo landing instruction this morning, which made us all a little dizzy. When we took a break for lunch, no one said anything – not even Chloe, who said just yesterday that she wanted us to get to know each other better. She seemed so sure about initiating it at the time. I wondered if, perhaps, that was something I should do, as well, but I didn’t have long to consider the problem before we were called back into training. Most of us hadn’t finished our soup – not that it was appetizing, it was some thick umami liquid and I couldn’t tell what it was made from. No wonder asteroid miners are so reverent towards Earth. I can only hope that we’re able to grow better food for ourselves, and we don’t have to live on our stores of Nutriloaves for too long.
Things took a turn for the better, though, just after lunch. I’m pleased to say that our disorienting instruction in landing cargo ships is over, and we’ve moved on to something much more my pace – circuitry! We’ll have a product printer to help us with computer parts, using silk and carbon fiber and spun gold to print everything we need from air filters to circuit boards, so we’ll really just need to know how to spot-weld and fit the pieces together.
I know very little about computers, but I’ve read a great deal, whenever I could get my hands on an old book. Yes, one of the old paper ones, I know. They smell funny, they’re mold factories, and the organic particles used for the pages are not only inefficient, but they can cut into your skin, since they have sharp edges! That said, once you get used to them, the cuts almost never happen, and there’s something endearing about browning pages and fading ink, even if books release toxic particulates.
I’m glad we’ve moved past such manufacturing practices as a society, however. It is so much more efficient to read on a tablet, because of the backlight and ease of access.
But back to computers. Our lives in Rabbah will be governed by our computer systems, from air filtration to light cycles to communication, so it’s important for us to know how to maintain these complex machines. Zariah and Yuda took to the process quite easily, since they’re used to dealing with computer waste, but I am surprised by how well most of us learned the basics of changing a crystal core, soldering the transmitter boards, and even welding the storage cases together. We started in on the basics of Shor-Simon Coding – it’s very basic computer coding, but it’s the platform on which all crystal cores run.
Zariah asked about re-entangling the crystal atoms if necessary, which I thought was a great question. Our Bakalov instructor, however, assured us that we could get replacement crystal cores that would be pre-entangled, because it hardly costs a thing to ship those to and from mining operations on asteroids. Zariah didn’t seem pleased by this answer, though. I saw Yuda lean over and quickly whisper to her.
I wonder how the two of them re-entangled cores on Bainbridge Island. I’ve read plenty in the news, as I know all of you have, about the pirates on Bainbridge, entangling crystal cores with other crystal cores to steal information. I can understand that perhaps this expedition’s planners do not think it would be wise for us to have access to that information or the necessary tools, since we have former Araboa going with us. But, it does seem awfully wasteful to ask for a new crystal when we could fix the one we have.
Maybe Yuda would be able to figure it out. Maybe there’s something about being exposed to computers from a young age that makes the work much easier, more natural? Or maybe she just has a genius for patterns. Budur and Chloe also took to the code, and they both sew from their own patterns, so maybe it is just a pattern recognition issue.
I am sorry to report that, although I enjoyed the lesson, I was not that great at the code myself. What I really liked was learning about the ferrous meshes and how they fit around the crystal cores, the lines of gold running throughout flat boards of superlight polymer and how everything fit together, which was much more like sewing to me.
That lesson by itself was 8 hours long, so we worked a much more traditional 12 hours today. I’ve spent so much time alone in my apartment before leaving for this mission that I had almost forgotten how exhausting a day full of physical labor can be. And yet, we all seemed satisfied with our exhaustion as we entered the empty cafeteria for whatever was left over from dinner.
Over bowls of soupy rice with miso-soy protein, Chloe finally spoke up. She suggested, as she did to me, that we all start looking at each other as one caste, more like equals, instead of separate entities.
I was glad when some of the women nodded. I was surprised that Ihsan was one of them, but less surprised that the Araboa women seemed eager at this proposition. Two of the Ikin looked uncomfortable, and Samira stared into the distance – probably from illness more than anything else.
Vivien, a woman with deep-hued skin covered in callouses and scars, sat back in her chair and squinted at Chloe. When Chloe continued to return the stare without backing down, Vivien said, “I’ve worked hard all of my life, on farms, with animals, back-breaking labor like none of the rest of you have ever performed. Why should I respect any of you as equals, when so many of you are just playing a game with this?”
Haven leaned heavily on the table so that she could see everyone, despite her short stature. “We’re all here because Breathe Easy thought our skills were appropriate,” she said. “There were thousands of applicants for this mission, and only 12 of us have been chosen for the first launch, so believe me, no one here thinks this is a child’s game.”
Vivien’s deep laugh resonated scorn through the cafeteria. “I know some of you thought you gardened, or mended clothes, or cooked, but besides Natsuki, Samira, Ihsan, and myself, none of you have had to really fight for survival. You haven’t had to fight through physical exhaustion from a job to fight for your dinner and a place to sleep. Your jobs always gave you what you needed – Ikin jobs are not so kindly.”
Both Araboa sneered at Vivien, who sneered back. Durada stood up before the fight went further. It was strange to see such a quiet, unassuming Bakalov become enraged, but Durada’s face was puffy with suppressed emotion. After a few deep breaths, she said: “I loved my Ikin workers, I provided for them as much as I could. Food, clothing, better shelter than the tents they came to me with. Whole families’ worth of providing. That’s why I’m here, because I fought for you, worked with you, you Ikin. Turns out that society doesn’t like that too much, and my partner died because of that fight. Stress got him. Now I’m here. I’m here because I wanted to treat each caste with some respect, long as each one of us works. So don’t say I’ve never fought for anything.”
She sat down. The silence was squeezing me tighter than Earth gravity.
Ihsan brushed her stringy yellow hair from her face and looked at Durada, then simply said, “Thank you.”
I tried to formulate something brave to say, because it seemed appropriate for Chloe or me to rally the troops, as it were. But Budur, reddish hair and round reddish face and all unassuming Senfte charm, got there first.
“We were told that we need to teach each other our skills at some point, anyway,” she started, looking around the table. “Perhaps we should start with something as simple as a get-together, after daily classes. Instead of spending our time separately, we should knit together, for example. Europa sounds cold, and I know a great sweater pattern.”
Some still had shifty eyes around the table, but we all verbally agreed to try it.
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