We live in an installation at the rim of Whipple Crater, originally used as a space agency science station – when I was just a kid. OPAL took over from the first mining operation a few years back.
Our solar panels are efficient enough to cover our daily needs while storing enough energy, in big batteries, to keep us running during the two weeks of solid night each month. If we get stuck and need extra power, we have fuel cell backups.
Mac keeps himself busy on call in the hab by reading digital books on his thin-film tablet. He favors Westerns, so he’s trying out a new Naveen Walker series from the Robotic Writers Group. The book writes itself as you read, and it will change direction based on biometric feedback – like spinning comedy from tragedy or vice versa. Really cool stuff. I think he’s the only one with more gadgets and gizmos than me.
Stepan’s in charge of dinner tonight, so he’s been heating up our meals for us. The kitchen is spartan, but we try and make dinnertime a chance to swap stories. Tonight’s best line: “No wonder they think this is Beef Stroganoff… these people created Hot Pockets.”
I am in the command center monitoring the seven active mining vehicles. There are three dump trucks, two front-loaders, an auger, and a sapper working the new site. None of us have had to head down to the crater floor to fix anything for days. I am starting to wish something would break – just a little – so I can suit up and go outside.