“Your job,” the VP’s assistant said, “will involve working directly with GOLEM to evaluate the psychological fitness of the crew.” She stood, sliding a medical report across the table. “These are the results of a mandatory psychiatric evaluation given to each member of the Omega crew at the time they were selected by GOLEM for the Europa mission. In reviewing the reports, we discovered one of the male crewmen possesses a minor sociopathic personality trait. Our medical staff missed it the first time because it’s a borderline condition, but one that could be exacerbated under the duress of working in an isolated habitat over a long period of time. Because of the seriousness of the situation and the potential disruption related to replacing a member of the crew this late into the mission, the Space Agency agreed to use the six-week training operation as a means to covertly evaluate whether the crewman can handle his duties under pressure. GOLEM was made aware of the results of the evaluation two days ago, but the name of the scientist was purposely withheld. The computer was then asked to select an alternate from its backup list, someone who could be added to the training mission as a potential replacement on the Europa voyage without causing suspicion, but who also had the experience to diagnose a possible psychological disorder.”

My uncle, curse him, smiled at me. “Congratulations.”

“Who … me? Exactly how did I make GOLEM’s backup list? I’m no astronaut.”

“Neither are most of these other scientists. You were, however, the man who developed GOLEM’s biological software, and you did graduate with a dual major in psychology.”

“No, I didn’t.”

The VP’s assistant winked. “We sort of fudged that one. Fortunately, the computer bought it. You’ll join the crew aboard Oceanus in two days. Once you submerge, you’ll have two weeks to evaluate GOLEM for a potential closed-logic loop, or determine whether DeFriend or any of the others purposely sabotaged the helium-3 results on the moon.”

“Two weeks? I thought you said the training mission would last six weeks.”

“The Antarctic mission is six weeks,” the annoying woman said. “The last four weeks you’ll be asleep.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”