“Dunno. Depends how long it takes to terraform one.”

“Yeah. I just got back from Australia yesterday, you know. Icefall was impressive, even by my standards.”

Callum hoped he wasn’t looking too blank and stupid right now. He vaguely recalled seeing something about Icefall on a pub’s news stream late last night as a fickle media finally moved on from Gylgen.

Apollo threw up details—a Connexion media briefing. It was one of Ainsley’s pet projects, irrigating the central Australian desert. “I heard it started well,” Callum said uncertainly.

“Certainly did, apart from some dickhead protestors trying to spoil progress like they always do.”

“Right.”

“The beauty of it is: We can spin Icefall as a grand humanitarian project, but actually it’s planetary engineering one-oh-one. That’s why I’m really backing it. Get some experience in. This way we’ll be ready to make the truly big decisions when the time comes. And it will.”

“I guess it’s reassuring to know someone’s planning for the genuine long-term.”

“That’s why I’ll never make it as a politician; I want to actually achieve something in life.”

Callum put his hands on his hips and regarded the cluster of hulking machinery that was seeding piles deep into the pit floor. “I’d call this achievement.”

“Bullshit, son. This is just a building. Egyptians and Incas were building big shit three thousand years ago. Sure, it’s gonna be impressive—Connexion’s European grand hub and headquarters, never going to be anything else. But it’s already three years behind schedule, and we ain’t properly started. Fucking bureaucrats here…Jeez, I thought they were bad in the US. You been to New York, son? The tower I’m putting up next to Central Park is going to be a real statement, like this one. But at the end of the day: just a pile of concrete and glass.”

“Are you going to put Emergency Detox in here?”

“Fuck knows. I leave the small shit to assholes in the office ten floors under mine. Let them worry about it. I’m the concepts and deals guy.”

Callum laughed. “Now I’m starting to envy you.”

“Yeah, it’s a long way from New Jersey to here. Not that I was ever New Jersey trash. Did you know that?”

“Your father was a hedge fund manager.”

“And I followed him to Wall Street and made the right investment, huh?”

“No, your Harvard degree was in machine intelligence. You liquidated your inheritance to set up Connexion.”

Ainsley nodded in satisfaction, as if Callum had just passed a test. “Not just a college jock on a rodeo ride at my expense.”

“Sir?”

“You’re smart, son, and I don’t mean your degree. How many of your crew know about the big boss without their mInet throwing it up?”

“Some.”

“But you did, and that counts. We’re expanding, Callum, the human race. And Connexion is going to make it possible. The asteroid habitats were just the start. How did you feel when Orion reached the Centauri system?”

“Happy and disappointed; I was hoping for a decent exoplanet in orbit.”