Chapter 5

Negotiation time.

I still owe 153 years service. It should be 203, except for my lucking out on finding that cold war sub on the ridge. 72 nuclear weapons was a hell of a lot of fuel for the power plants. They have given me the choice. Nice of them, as us indentured do what we are told regardless. I can run Mars City, or I can be an oil diver on Titan. Do I really want to deal with meat folk?

No.

I'll run the oil diver. Let someone else deal with the complaints of the meat. Not me - they disgust me, needing protection from every possible glich in life systems. Happen I am jealous of them. Free to do as they wish, and make discoveries that change the world.

My new body sees with radar. Imagine a pregnant paper airplane - with scoops to pick up the atmosphere I skim through. That is my body. I dive into the atmosphere of Titan, collect the hydrocarbons, then rendevous with the processing ship. We call her mother, though in life she was a Nascar driver called Carl. He gets really pissed off about that - especially the sexual overtones of docking.