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The technicians were optimistic and seemed to have thought of everything. In fact, the drill vehicle started moving as planned, and the audience applauded. Director Stone was cautious enough not to join the cheering just yet. The drum, from which the prototype of the fiber-optic cable unspooled, was turning slowly. They were not in a rush. This was only the first test of the new version. There would be many more, during which they could also raise the speed.

The entire crew was listening. A deep rumbling could be heard, mixed with a constant hissing. The hole dug by Valkyrie was only a few centimeters larger than the vehicle itself. Everything seemed perfect. However, after exactly seven minutes and ten seconds, it stopped.

“Shit,” Stone said. His face reddened, but he did not utter another word. The technicians looked embarrassed. One of them placed his ear on the ice.

“Silence!” Stone barked.

The sensors reported that Valkyrie was stuck at a depth of 87 meters. Suddenly, shrill alarm signals sounded from the control panel, as if the artificial intelligence had needed some time to think this over.

“Turn it off! What happened?”

Three of the specialists tried to answer Stone’s question at the same time.

“The hot water jets are choked with crud.” The diagnosis was too obvious. “Sorry, I meant they are blocked by sediment.”

“Are you serious?” Stone’s glare seemed to try to burn through the glacier without using Valkyrie. This did not sound like a question, but rather like a threat. All of them must have realized the drill vehicle would not be moving through laboratory ice but through a naturally-grown glacier. Wind and weather deposited fine sand and other small particles on it and the deposits gradually sank down into the polar ice. They not only suspected this, they knew it. The deposits must have clogged the hot water jets much faster than expected and made them inoperable.

“I told you so,” one of the technicians said, and then quickly put his hand in front of his mouth when the others glared at him.

“What did you just say?” Stone asked, standing before him with his hackles up.

“It’s a problem of scale. We simply scaled up everything. We thought the small particles might be dangerous for the miniature model, but only large pieces would be a problem for Valkyrie.”

“Didn’t you simulate this? Why did I not hear anything about it?”

“Sir, a description of the issue was sent to your inbox on …” he scrolled through his tablet, “July 10.”

Stone fell silent, turned around, and scratched his head. He was facing a real problem—the Valkyrie prototype was lost. How were they supposed to retrieve a metal tube weighing several tons from a gradually freezing hole that was 87 meters deep? The fiber-optic cable for the laser was much too thin to be used for pulling Valkyrie up by the scruff of the neck.

The Director did not say anything else. He spoke to no one and walked down the glacier past the Valkyrie scaffolding. Eight hours later a helicopter could be seen taking off from the cargo ship and picking up a single person at the coast.

Stone Aerospace pledged to build a new Valkyrie as soon as possible and at its own expense, using the exact design of the old one. Valkyrie actually had all the necessary equipment to counteract the clogging, but the control software had not initiated those measures in time, since they had been unnecessary in the miniature version. Because NASA trusted this private contractor due to its boldness and talent for improvisation, but not for its ability to program an error-tolerant AI, Martin was sent on an official trip. At first he was even happy about that. For the moment, he was still able to suppress the thought that one day he would have to stand on the ice of Antarctica.

June 28, 2045, Antarctica

The cold was killing him. Martin glanced backward, and he could still guess where the station was. The other person with him, the station cook, might be surprised if he suddenly ran in the wrong direction, but this was the only way to survive. Small ice darts dug into the few unprotected areas of his skin, even though there was no wind today and the cook had praised the warm weather this morning. Martin felt like a fakir placing his face on glowing embers. He could not tell whether heat or cold was torturing him, but it did not matter, as he would die anyway.

The cook was now walking ahead of him. At dinner, he had introduced himself as Tadeusz, though Martin had forgotten his last name. He was also one of the leading scientists of the Polish Antarctica Station. In the polar region, no one had just one job. Just as Martin was about to flee the freezing hell surrounding him, the man turned around and spoke to him in English. Martin could not understand what he said and only shrugged his shoulders. Tadeusz spoke up.

“Marvelous landscape, isn’t it?”

Martin thought, He can hardly expect an answer to that, can he? He at least managed to nod. The cooking researcher or researching cook laughed.

“Your first time beyond the Antarctic Circle, isn’t it?”

Martin nodded again.

“That’s quite normal. Once you get used to the cold it is not so bad. You have to work your way into Antarctica.”

Martin obviously still looked skeptical.

“I did not want to believe that on my first day, either. Just turn around! There is really unlimited freedom here as this continent belongs to no one and everyone. I think you can see that in the landscape.”

Martin only saw the desolation of an icy desert, with mountains in the background, also covered in ice. Doubtlessly fascinating in a morbid kind of way, but he preferred more inviting regions.

“Believe me, there is no landscape on Earth that is so honest. If you make a mistake, the cold has got you by the balls. If you make two mistakes, you die. The only environment that resembles Antarctica in this aspect is the cosmos.”

Pronounced by the Pole, the word sounded particularly harsh. Martin had no intention of visiting this cosmos for an extended period, as his short trip into space had been enough.

“Come on, we have to hurry, as the others are waiting for us.” Tadeusz placed a hand on Martin’s shoulder and gave him a symbolic nudge.

How did I ever come up with the stupid idea of testing the software directly on the console of Valkyrie? Couldn’t they just have established a laser link instead? It’s the fault of Mr. Stone, Martin decided, Mr. Stone Jr., who had casually mentioned a short stroll to the test site. Valkyrie could not be tested directly at the polar station because the station was built on solid ground. The ice drill was supposed to work its way into the ocean beneath the ice and then go diving for a while. Since it did not matter whether the water was deep, they had selected a location about three kilometers north of the station. In other regions that would have been a 40-minute walk, but here it required a minor expedition. The station’s three snowmobiles had driven ahead, carrying supplies and tools.