《Pleiades - The Trip Up》 The Pleiades Danica Sprits was always looking up. It¡¯s not that she was in love with the sky or the stars. She simply was not happy in her young life on the ground in Brooklyn. She had no real reason to be unhappy about it. Her parents owned and operated a small family restaurant, so she was never hungry. The restaurant did well enough that the family never really wanted for anything (not that she got everything she wanted). Between school and home, she was never bored. She was often tasked to work in the restaurant''s kitchen after school ¨C usually peeling vegetables or washing dishes. She was an outstanding student in school and even enjoyed most of the work assigned. But she still kept looking up. She was hoping for a glimpse of the Pleiades. It was the largest endeavor ever undertaken by humankind. A space station orbiting high above the globe. When completed, seven massive rings ¨C one for each of the seven biomes on Earth, spinning to imitate Earth normal gravity ¨C would be home to as many as 8000 people. 8000 people colonizing near Earth space, living in an artificial utopia designed by Doctor Carl Seyjhim. Carl Seyjhim, born in a tumultuous 2132 as the son of an Indian immigrant and an American, was a prodigy. That¡¯s putting it mildly. He graduated from Brooklyn Technical High School with honors at 15. His as-long-as-your-arm list of bachelors, masters, and doctorates from MIT and Stanford came tumbling in quickly. By 21, he was worth billions due to his patents. But none of this had prepared the world for what he invented next: the Seyjhim fusion reactor. Although the Seyjhim reactor required a nuclear core, it was very small, and deemed safe even for homeowners. The cost to manufacture one ¨C once development was completed around the third generation ¨C was in the hundreds of dollars range. They sold like proverbial hotcakes for $4327.99. They were available direct, on Amazon, and even in Walmart. The wealth Seyjhim accumulated was incalculable. Initial concerns about the reactors had created a huge push against them. People feared what a nuclear reactor in every home could do if one of them failed. People also feared what would happen to the millions of people employed in power generation, mining, drilling, and the corporate world. And these fears were not without basis. Although there were no accidents ¨C even though some had tried, hard, to weaponize the device with no success - the shadows Hershey, Pennsylvania and Chernobyl, Ukraine cast were long and hard to forget. There were failures, to be sure. Several of the earlier models were pushed ¨C accidentally and intentionally - to the breaking point. Failure resulted in a rapid reduction in power output. That¡¯s all. No meltdown, no radioactive contamination. The core simply returned to an inert state. And, millions did lose their jobs as one by one traditional power plants ¨C nuclear fission, gas, fossil fuels ¨C were shut down. But the fears were just as quickly assuaged. The gen one and gen two reactors had been deployed for many years in test facilities around the world, and there had never even been a hiccup much less a catastrophe. Every soul that lost a job was put back to work manufacturing, installing, and maintaining Seyjhim reactors around the world. The new jobs offered increased pay, better benefits, and in most cases less danger. In time, nearly every home in the world was equipped with or had access to one of these miraculous devices. The first commercially available units were about the size of a subcompact car. Early adopters often just converted their garage into their power generation room. Some built sheds or added on garages. By the third generation they were the size of a large suitcase. They put these in electric cars which had unlimited range. The reactors were fueled with waste. Any waste would do, but organic waste worked best. Because of this, recycling became the standard. In short order, landfills were eliminated. Some were even reopened and mined for fuel. Households equipped with the power plants often just redirected their sewage into fuel tanks. The byproducts ¨C the waste ¨C was pure water vapor and compressed carbon which was easily tilled into soil. In fact, the waste from the Seyjhim reactor became an important industry in its own right. The carbon was removed and transported to farms and gardens increasing their yields. The water vapor could either be trapped for use or released safely into the atmosphere. Early models of the Seyjhim reactor would only generate around 20 kilowatts. By the time the 4th generation reactor rolled out, it was artificially capped at one megawatt. Only the developer knew what the total output might be but many believed they might reach the gigawatt range. The amount generated depended in part on the fuel used, and in part on the demand. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Many might have used this wealth an power to attempt to control governments. Seyjhim worked to better the planet. When it became apparent to him that it was not possible in his lifetime to create the utopia he wanted, he began to build his own. The Renaissance that his generators brought about should have brought about world peace. There was no longer any need for wars to be fought over dwindling resources. The relaxed international tensions and increased food supply, though, led to an explosion in population. The planet was just too small, now. The breakthrough for this mammoth project came not from Earth, but from the asteroid belt. It was a slow process ¨C mining the materials and hauling it all back to an orbital refinery. The process was also astronomically expensive. Reaching the asteroids would not have been possible without the development of the Seyjhim fusion reactor. These small power plants could generate enough energy to power a small city or push a ship using an ion drive to speeds nearing .5c. That .5c potential was never fully tested as the shuttles traveling to the belt spent half their time accelerating and half their time decelerating. Regardless, it was far faster than any chemical rocket ever devised. The miners and ship crews were paid outrageous salaries for the long trips and dangerous work. The payoff came in a very early, comfortable retirement, and a spot towards the top of the list of people allowed to populate the new station ¨C the hard-earned skills and experience was a huge boost. Of course, collecting required them to survive their four year contract intact. If they didn¡¯t, their families would receive a sizable sum, but no placement on the list. Only one in every five that signed on managed to collect their retirement. Even fewer qualified for the list. Completing a contract as a miner or shuttle crew wasn¡¯t the only path. A successful tour in the military, police force, or as a firefighter would also earn a person a spot on the list. Of course, there were other paths. Academics, researchers, teachers, doctors, veterinarians¡­ there were many ways to make it to the list, but service was considered to be the fastest if most dangerous. Because the station was a private enterprise, it did not need to adhere to many of the Earth¡¯s many laws, rules, and regulations. As such, religion was not allowed. Whatever personal beliefs a person may have had to be kept to themselves. This was not as easy as it sounds. There is a true sense of awe in seeing how vast everything truly is and many applicants were sent home after developing some rather deep seated feelings after the trip up. Applicants had to be healthy and able to father or bear children. Being a member of any LGBTQIA+ group did not disqualify an individual, but they were still required to be viable and willing. Then there was an extensive, intrusive psychological evaluation. There was no room for bias, hatred, psychosis, or racism on the station. Each candidate also had to undergo an extremely thorough physical examination. This was to ensure that genetic aberrations were not brought on board. There was no ageism. As long as all other criteria was met satisfactorily a person would get in. Sadly, this eliminated many over the age of 50, but there were some in their 50s, 60s, and even one young septuagenarian. Youth was appreciated, but maturity was required. Having all the necessary qualifications was still not enough. Once the preliminary qualifications were all met, there was still a rigorous training cycle. For every 10,000 that applied, only one would be accepted. One person for every 1.1 million inhabitants of Earth. Long odds to be sure, but still the applications flooded in. There were seven rings. Each ring represented a specific region of our little blue planet. Ring One was intended to mimic ¨C albeit on a smaller scale ¨C the north American continent. Ring Two, South America. Ring Three, Europe. Ring Four, Asia. Ring Five, Africa. Ring Six, the Oceans and islands. Ring Seven, Arctic and Antarctic. They dubbed the station Pleiades after the seven-sisters constellation. Each ring measured 2440 meters in diameter, and 1000 meters across. Once the frame was completed, a gentle nudge pushed each ring to spin at one revolution per minute, giving a simulated gravity of 1 G at ¡°sea level.¡± Once completed, each ring had a pristine landscape teeming with agriculture and wildlife. Mountains -albeit rather small ones, lakes, and rivers we¡¯re all represented. All housing and industry was nestled underground. Not all species could be accommodated in the limited space provided. A single blue whale, for instance, would have occupied far too much room, and eaten too much to allow the remainder of the Ocean ring to remain viable. The engineers considered this, too, and included a genetic ark with samples of every known species on Earth. The ¡°ceiling" of each ring was an array of LEDs programmed to emit a natural spectrum of light. The array would also dim and brighten, display clouds or stars in familiar patterns, even the moon in phases. Above those arrays, closer to the hub, we¡¯re massive cargo bays and shuttle docks. The designers chose to put the bays and docks above because that placement allowed for reduced fuel and energy consumption as the crates of cargo could be quite large and heavy, but still easily manipulated in the reduced gravity. The hub itself was a zero G zone and could be used to transport personnel and materials from one ring to the other with almost no energy usage at all. As massive as the rings were, the superstructure that surrounded the rings was necessarily much larger. Four massive arms radiated from the hub at both ends and met in the middle, encasing the rings. These arms did not spin and so had no gravity, but housed defensive systems sensor arrays, and thruster quads. Most of the surface of the superstructure, around the sensors and thrusters and turrets, was dedicated to energy collection. Contrary to popular belief, the vacuum of space is not entirely devoid of matter. Huge scoops could be deployed to scoop up trace gases, solar arrays could be extended to soak up solar energy, and grapplers could snag anything solid for refining or conversion to energy in the stations many small Seyjhim fusion reactors ¨C each ring was equipped with eight, and an additional twelve in the superstructure. And it was almost finished. Danica She was smiling, but the smile looked pasted on. Not quite fake, but not happy, or pleased either. Her stride - short, mincing steps that propelled her faster than seemed possible ¨C carried her through the restaurant towards the counter at the back of the dining room. She paused at the counter as though she was ready to pay for her meal, but reached across and flipped over a book. She ran her manicured finger down one side of the handwritten page, then the other. She shook her head, bouncing the piled, coiled braids of rust-colored hair, then walked around the counter and through the left side of the double swinging doors behind. She walked through the kitchen, pausing to ask her husband where his daughter was. He slid the saut¨¦ pan off the fire, and turned to face her, smiling ¨C his smile was warm and genuine. ¡°You know,¡± he said, bending to give her a brief kiss on her cheek. He didn¡¯t want to muss her perfectly applied lipstick. She shook her head again, and headed to the stairs on the right side of the kitchen. She wasn¡¯t mad. Just annoyed. The girl was sixteen! She should be able to keep a simple schedule. ¡°Why are you always up here?¡± dressed in form-fitting black slacks, ruffled blouse, and black tennis shoes, she looked very out of place on the roof of a narrow three-story brownstone in Brooklyn, New York. ¡°Homework,¡± Danica said simply. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like it!¡± The young girl sat up from the folding canvas and twine zero G chair, and swung her hazel eyes to meet her mom¡¯s brown ones. She tapped her temple. ¡°Oh, so your interface can help you with your homework?¡± her mom¡¯s voice was tinged with sarcasm. ¡°Can it help you keep a schedule, too?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, momma,¡± Danica cast her eyes down. She had seen the notification, but was really wrapped up in her research paper. It was only her second paper since she entered Kingsborough Community College in Brooklyn. ¡°That¡¯s alright,¡± mom¡¯s tone softened. She had a hard time staying upset with the girl. She did so well at everything else. ¡°Do you think you can help out now?¡± ¡°Yeah, OK.¡± She said, standing. ¡°Let me get changed.¡± She headed towards the stairs down to their apartment, but not before looking up one last time. Danica Calland was always looking up. It¡¯s not that she was in love with the skyline (although she did think some of the architecture was pretty), treetops, birds, the sky, moon, or the stars. She simply was not truly happy in her young life on the ground in Brooklyn. She had no real reason to be unhappy, she mused as she stepped down the stairs. Maybe her scars¡­ but, no. That was surely part of it, sure, but she¡¯d grown accustomed to the furtive glances and rude stares. After all, her parents rented and operated a small family restaurant, so she was never hungry. The restaurant did well enough that the family always seemed to scrape by. Bills were paid, if occasionally a bit late. Everyone was clothed, even if they were used and not the latest fashion. Everyone was sheltered, even if they were crowded ¨C all five of them ¨C into a two bedroom apartment above the restaurant. And, she was never bored. To be honest, she would have really appreciated some boredom. Between college, martial arts and yoga, the restaurant, and home, there was rarely any free time. She was often tasked to work in the restaurant¡¯s kitchen after school ¨C usually peeling vegetables or washing dishes, and once she was allowed to serve tables and keep the tips. She was an outstanding student in school and even enjoyed most of the work assigned. As the eldest of three children, she was often ¡®in charge¡¯ of her slightly younger sister and much younger brother at home when her parents were working. She did have some, perhaps, lesser reasons to be unhappy. She was quite conscious of her appearance. A mass of twisting scar tissue stretched from her temple to her thigh along her right side. The scars were from an unfortunate accident when she was 11. Being used to the odd looks didn''t mean she welcomed them. She often replayed the whole scene in her head. She had graduated from the sixth grade with honors. In fact, her marks in the end of year testing were so high, the school system promoted her directly to the 10th grade! She had used her interface several times on the way home to check the chip encoded with the information. After the news had finally sunk in, she was so excited she rushed through the docks at the back of the restaurant, and barged into the kitchen. As she passed the fryers to find her father to share her news, she bumped into a pan filled with ice and water, setting it to slowly spinning on its dented bottom. She didn¡¯t even notice that it was rocking, inching closer to the vat of hot oil. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. She found her father working on the flattop across the aisle from the fryer, and, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention, began to babble about her graduation and promotion. She was almost incoherent with excitement, and as her father, smiling, tried to calm her down to better understand her, the ice and water reached the edge of the opposite counter and slid into the nearly boiling oil. Instantly, a geyser of superheated steam mixed with hot oil sprayed the side of her body, and she screamed. Her father dropped everything and pulled her away from the danger zone while using his interface to dial for emergency services. Even as he was pulling her to safety, her interface had kicked in, telling her body to produce endorphins to help with the pain, and adrenaline to stave off shock. Additional hormones were generated to assist in healing. But the damage was done. The injuries were mostly superficial. No problems with her eyes, nose, or mouth. Minor surgery was needed to correct the damage to her ear ¨C mostly cosmetic ¨C but her hearing was unaffected. She did have to go through months of physical therapy to stretch the scar tissue and allow full range of motion in her arm, leg, and jaw. There was also an undetectable issue with her interface. Yes, the damage to her body was for the more part superficial. The damage to her psyche was much, much worse. Fortunately, her physical therapy was based in a large part on martial arts and yoga. While the fluid body movements and stretching helped her not only recover from the tightening scars, the meditation and concentration helped her mental state. That she could now defend herself was just a bonus. She had almost made it to black belt by the time her physical therapy was over. Still, she felt ostracized by the other students at school when she was finally able to return¡­ as though she had no friends. Not that she would have had the time to be with any friends. Part of that was, she felt, the scars. They put people off. She felt ugly. If she¡¯d had the courage to ask anyone, they¡¯d have told her otherwise. She was, in fact, beautiful when one looked past the scars. Her physique, toned, lithe, and muscular. Her bearing, graceful. Big eyes that shaded from green to hazel ¨C the right with the telltale ring of light from the interface ¨C were always watching, looking for something. The incident with the ice and oil had taught her to always be aware of her surroundings. Part of it was her age. Now that schools had restarted, she found she was several years younger than any of the other students. With her rapid promotion there came a reputation. She was seen as aloof and distant. Maybe even a little stuck up. Her peers ¨C she still thought of them as peers even though everyone was at least three to four years older than she was ¨C thought she thought she was better than them. Finally, part of it was her intelligence. Being younger, and being hospitalized for a while, hadn¡¯t slowed her down. She read most of the course material for her first semester while healing and was already ahead when school started. The extra schoolwork and time spent in the gym, sparring and practicing her forms did get her out of the kitchen sometimes, but offered her no additional free time. Enough musing, she thought as she stripped down to her bra, panties, and socks in preparation to dress in the kitchen whites. She had work to do! Because she got there late, there was already a large pile of pots and pans at the dishwashing station. She¡¯d have preferred peeling veggies, but today¡¯s menu didn¡¯t call for many of those. Tonight¡¯s menu consisted of shrimp and grits ¨C they used polenta instead of regular grits ¨C or escargot on a bed of lettuce with a garlic vinaigrette, garlic toast, and a garlic butter dipping sauce. She grinned to herself. Patrons ordering that meal wouldn¡¯t have to worry about vampires tonight! Sigh. She shrugged into the heavy clear plastic apron and started to spray off the dishes. She knew there would be a lot of them. There always were when the restaurant served escargot, and she hated the little pans her dad used to cook the snails. So fiddly to wash! As she was spraying, she again let her mind wander. She remembered the first time she¡¯d encountered the French delicacy. She¡¯d been disgusted until her mom had shut her up by poking a snail dripping in garlic butter into her mouth mid rant. She understood then that the chewy morsel wasn¡¯t the prize¡­ it was the garlic butter! ¡°Dani,¡± her father came up behind her, towering over her 165 centimeter frame by at least 20 centimeters. She put the sprayer down and turned to return the smile she knew she¡¯d find. ¡°You need to keep your schedule here at home, too.¡± He wasn''t mad, but she knew he had to take a side. And, he was right. Even if it was college, now, she needed to focus. Flights of fancy and daydreams would get her no where. ¡°Yeah, I know¡­¡± she trailed off. ¡°I¡¯m trying.¡± She wanted to get a hug, and tell him all about what she was learning, where she was going, what she was planning. She didn¡¯t. In her head, a voice chided her for still acting like she was 12, seeking parental approval for a path they¡¯d already spoken out against. Instead, she put on a wan smile and picked the sprayer back up after taking the pan her dad held out to her. After dinner service was complete, and the dishes all finished she sought out her parents to get permission to head upstairs. They were finishing up in the kitchen, using greasy grill blocks powered by pure elbow grease to polish the flattop, but she refused to enter. Standing at the entry, she called out. ¡°I think I¡¯m done. Can I head up?¡± ¡°Let me check, little one,¡± the nickname was a family joke. Danica had passed her mother¡¯s 152 centimeter height years ago. Her mom came out of the kitchen, and inspected the rack of cooking vessels, the cutlery trays, and stacks of plain white plates and bowls. She found nothing wrong and, pausing for a cursory hug, let Danica go. The young woman stripped off the plastic apron and hung it back above the dishwashing machine, giving it a quick spray before heading to the stairs. ¡°Thanks, mom,¡± she called over her shoulder as she began to climb. ¡°I¡¯ll do better tomorrow.¡± If her mother replied, she didn¡¯t hear it. She was already headed for the roof. She hoped the night sky would offer a better view. She was hoping for a glimpse of the Pleiades. Coral Before she knew it, she was in the transport to the training camp. The craft they were loaded onto was a sleek civilian hovercraft about 16 meters long, 4 meters tall, and 3 meters wide. Like almost all modern vehicles, this was powered by a Seyjhim reactor, but unlike most vehicles this had the operator¡¯s cab on top at the back of the machine. Small cameras and LiDAR scanned the road in front and the data was displayed on wide screens below the cockpits windows. Artificial intelligence was used to fuse the camera/LiDAR with the visual to create a seamless vista. The operators ¨C Danica wondered if the correct title might be pilot, but rejected the thought when she considered the altitude of the hovercraft would never exceed 3 meters ¨C sat in the oblong cabin just below the crafts tail fin. Beneath them, the reactor. On either side of the reactor sat two small turbo-props ¨C two facing back and two facing down. These props, combined with the three in front, would push the craft to speeds in excess of 350 kph. Cargo ¨C such as it was as most left everything behind understanding that all they¡¯d need would be supplied by the service ¨C was loaded into the belly through hydraulically powered horizontal bi-fold doors situated on either side, just behind the personnel doors and ramps. Those doors and ramps were located behind the hovercraft¡¯s twin forward turbo-props. These were vectored props to allow for steering. One final, non-vectored engine sat in front of them. Inside the personnel area, it was all business. The sleek and shiny, exciting exterior turned to drab gray hard plastic seats with chipped edges and scratched surfaces. Most every one of the 15 rows had five seats ¨C three to one side and two one the other. The rows were staggered to prevent running up or down the narrow central passage. A small observation window at front tapered into a slit window less than 1/3 meter tall that extended the length of the compartment. There were no overhead compartments. No seat trays. Just room enough for 60 people, not counting the three operators and one monitor that sat in front facing the group. A small cubicle at the back with a toilet with a small sink was the only nod to the fact that the cargo was human and not livestock. Danica looked about as she entered and a experienced a brief moment of doubt. The feeling was quickly forced down. She reasoned that this was just a contracted craft for a short trip. Once boarded, she again isolated herself, sitting closer to the front of the small craft, quietly reading a book on her interface and listening to music quietly in an attempt to drown out the chattering of the many excited, and scared, teens and young adults loaded like sardines into the small vessel. That didn¡¯t mean she wasn¡¯t paying attention. She saw the shy dark-skinned girl sitting by herself and thought of joining her for a chat to pass the time. She also saw and heard the raucous group of boys high-fiving each other and talking loudly in the back rows of seats. Another two sat together, holding hands and looking a bit lost. Danica spent a moment trying to decide if they were in a relationship and holding on to each other in the hopes that they¡¯d be together when it was all over, or just acquaintances holding on to each other to calm their nerves. If the couple¡¯s hand-holding was an indication of their affection for each other it would hold them back. Monogamous relationships aboard the station were frowned on as genetic diversity was sought. She decided it didn¡¯t matter right now and it was none of her business. Seeing no danger, she returned to her book and music. The trip to the training station took just over two hours with a quick stop at a convenience station. Most of the inductees jumped at the chance to grab armloads of junk food and a large soda of some kind. Danica just bought a bottle of distilled water and a small bag of mixed nuts while stretching her legs. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Upon returning to the transport after the far too short 15 minute break, Danica noticed that the shy girl hadn¡¯t even stepped off. She was still sitting quietly, head down and hair hiding her face, in the same seat. She sat down next to her, abandoning her former seat to another, and gently tapped the girl¡¯s shoulder. She hadn¡¯t even acknowledged her sitting down, but now sat up with a start. ¡°It¡¯s OK.¡± Danica soothed, seeing the girl¡¯s tear streaked face. ¡°I¡¯m Danica.¡± ¡°Coral.¡± Said the sad girl. ¡°Nice name. Coral.¡± she liked the way her tongue rolled around the R. ¡°Coral, would you like to share my snack and drink?¡± Coral had dusky skin, dark eyes, and her mid-length dark brown hair fell in tight curls and ringlets around her face. The tips of the curls was tinged red and looked natural¡­ sun-bleached. She was slight ¨C maybe 7 -centimeters shorter than Danica''s own 170-centimeters and maybe 7-kilograms lighter. Danica quickly, secretly, slipped Coral a clean handkerchief. Coral took it and discreetly wiped her face. She reached out to return it, but Danica refused it. ¡°I have a couple more. You keep that one.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± whispered Coral. ¡°And, I suppose, if you really don¡¯t mind, I think I¡¯d very much like a sip of your drink.¡± Polite, or afraid. Or, both? Danica handed over the unopened bottle of water. Coral carefully twisted off the top and poured a bit into her mouth without touching the bottle with her lips before handing it back, with a wan smile and a whispered ¡°thank you.¡± ¡°Are you OK?¡± asked Danica. ¡°most everyone else seems excited to be on their way.¡± ¡°Not you.¡± Coral replied. She immediately mumbled an apology, realizing she had seemed a little defensive. ¡°Ah, I just kinda keep to myself.¡± ¡°I guess I¡¯m just a little unsure¡­¡± ¡°About¡­¡± prompted Danica. ¡°Everything.¡± she started quietly, before it all came pouring out. ¡°I grew up on a farm, but I¡¯m not big or strong. I wasn¡¯t very good at math or science in school. I¡¯m just a nobody and I miss my friends and family.¡± By the time she had finished, she was close to sobbing. ¡°Hey!¡± consoled Danica. ¡°You¡¯re not a nobody. You had friends and family before, and you¡¯ll make new friends here. We¡¯re all starting with a clean slate and an even playing field. I didn¡¯t have any friends,¡± her hands subconsciously rose to stroke the scars down the side of her face. ¡°My family supported my decision, but didn¡¯t really want me to join up.¡± ¡°You have a friend now.¡± Coral''s voice was back down to almost a whisper. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°And the scars make you look fierce,¡± Coral continued. ¡°Sorry¡­ I shouldn¡¯t have¡­¡± ¡°Eh, that¡¯s OK. I¡¯m kinda used to it¡­ the looks and the comments. Fierce? I¡¯ll take that.¡± The remainder of the trip was spent in relative silence broken only by the occasional rustling of a bag of snack food, murmured conversations, and the odd belch as someone drank too much of a carbonated beverage too fast. Many slept. Danica read, and watched. It was more interesting watching the other passengers than watching the landscape as they sped through the late afternoon sun. The view outside consisted of nothing more than flat fields of yellow grass or grains. They were moving too fast for her to be sure. So, between chapters in her book, she¡¯d glance around surreptitiously to assess the compatriots. She knew her story, of course. And, now, Coral¡¯s. But what, she wondered, brought everyone else here. Was it the pay, the experience, an escape, or the hope of being allowed on the station when it was completed? She had convinced herself that she was just here for the pay and a fresh start. Others, she thought, would be granted spots on the station. Except, maybe, Coral. She decided to do what she could to help build the diminutive teen up. Rumor had it that Pleiades would be ready for habitation in less than three years. The station was already around 80-percent complete. Danica wondered if they¡¯d get to see it while training. The book she was reading between her glances around and mental meanderings was a technical manual. Sadly, she felt she had no time for more recreational reading. She also missed the old dog eared books she had started with. There was something, she mused, satisfying in holding onto an actual physical book¡­ the texture and smell of the paper, the heft of the thing.