“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the world’s first space-mining drone … the Vanguard!”
Ukko made a sweeping gesture with his arm, and the black sheet flew backward out of the holofield, unveiling a small, white, seamless vessel that sparkled in the rotating spotlights. “Working as a scout, the Vanguard will seek out mineral-rich asteroids via remote control and preprogrammed flight paths. By firing digger bots no larger than an apple down into the surface of the asteroid from space, the Vanguard can determine the asteroid’s approximate mineral content. That information is then relayed back to Juke. If the mineral content is high enough and the asteroid large enough, a mining crew is dispatched for immediate mineral extraction.”
The floating heads in the holofield began asking questions. As each one did, Ukko brought the head forward and made it larger than the others. What is its fuel source? How soon will these be operational? How do you safely fly it via remote control if there’s a time lag between it and headquarters? What will happen to all the prospecting crews? Are these people out of a job?
Ukko answered them all deftly, as if he expected each one. No, the crews would not lose their jobs. Drones would increase the discovery of minerals and thus increase the need for mining crews. All those employees would be transitioned to mining vessels.
Well, doesn’t that debunk the whole “saving time” argument? Victor wanted to ask. How are you giving people more time with Daddy dearest if you’re moving him from one ship to another and keeping him in space just as long?
But none of the journalists seemed concerned with that detail. The technical specs and increased efficiency potential had them practically salivating. By the time the questions ended, the journalists were all applauding enthusiastically. Ukko thanked them for their time, promised them each packets with further specs and photos for their stories, and bid them all good-bye.
When the last journalist winked out, the holofield disappeared, the lights in the room came on, and the small production crew rushed forward to congratulate Ukko on a job well done. He took an offered water bottle and downed a long drink, mostly ignoring the praise around him. When Simona approached and whispered in his ear, Ukko stopped, listened, and looked in Victor’s direction. A moment later Simona was ushering the production crew out of the room.
When they were alone, Ukko smiled, approached Prescott, and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Richard, this is a wonderful surprise. I haven’t seen you since the Deep Space Expo. Linda is well, I hope.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for asking.”
Ukko continued down the receiving line. Without looking at Yanyu’s gimpy right arm or giving any sign that he noticed it, Ukko deftly offered her his left hand instead, which was the hand she preferred to greet people with. “And Yanyu,” he said, smiling affectionately, “one of our prized grad assistants. I hear only good things about the research you’re doing for us at the observatory. Keep it up. There will always be a place at Juke for the best and the brightest. Or as my finance team likes to call them, profit producers.” He winked and moved on.
Ukko turned to Imala and didn’t appear at all surprised to see her. He took her hand gently in both of his. “Imala Bootstamp. When last we spoke I believe you were turning down my generous job offer.”
At the LTD, Imala had learned that auditors were being paid under the table by Juke Limited to ignore the company’s tax and tariff evasions. Ukko had offered Imala a job within the company to silence the scandal, but Imala had refused and left Ukko with a few colorful remarks instead.
“You’re wearing a Juke jumpsuit, Imala. And running with my scientists now. I’m confused. What could pique the interest of the Customs Department and two of my finest astrophysicists?”
“A matter of mutual interest.”
“Clearly. And tell me, Imala, how are things at Customs? Are you regretting turning down my offer?”
“I’m no longer with Customs, Mr. Jukes. At least that’s my suspicion. I was on administrative leave, but after yesterday’s events, I suspect they’ve since given me the ax.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You must stop this habit of getting fired, Imala. Your résumé is turning into a list of terminations. It will make recruiters nervous.”
Victor could tell Ukko was enjoying this.
“If I can do anything to help,” said Ukko, “be a reference perhaps, just let Simona know. I’d like to think my opinion still holds a little weight in the world.”
“How generous of you to offer,” said Imala. “I’m sure you’d be all too eager to give others your opinion of me.”
“I would indeed.”
They stood there facing each other a moment longer, hand in hand, each of them maintaining a mask of politeness. Ukko finally broke his gaze and turned to Victor, offering his hand. “And who is this fine-looking young man?”