The Beacon: Hard Science Fiction by Brandon Morris (heaven official's blessing novel english .txt) 📗

special offer where the 20,000-euro sign-up fee is waived if you opt for a two-year contract. I could set you up on the spot.”

“That’s nice, but the satellite is supposed to send signals around the clock. We want to use it to calibrate important equipment. To do that, it has to broadcast twenty-four seven.”

“That’s different, of course. In that case, the Deep Space Network would be the more expensive solution. I’d love to show you some current models from our collection. Do you have any virtual reality equipment?”

“No,” said Peter.

“That’s too bad. If you did, you could examine the proposals yourself. But we can continue to talk via our chat.”

“Wait, Miguel. I own a holoprojector. I think it’s VR compatible.”

“Wonderful. I’ll send you a link to our VR demonstration room right here in the chat.”

Miguel had barely finished his sentence when the promised link popped up. Peter clicked on it. The program prompted him to select an output device, but his astral projector did not appear in the list. Bummer. Was it incompatible after all? Nonsense. It was simply not powered on at the moment. Peter ran downstairs and activated the device. When he breathlessly arrived back upstairs, he saw the astral projector in the list. He selected it and ran back down into the living room.

A woman was standing there. Because the living room door was only half open, Peter could only see her left half, and from behind, but the black skirt she was wearing showed that Miguel must be female. He entered the room, and the woman turned to face him. She was decidedly pretty, slightly shorter than himself, with black hair and tanned skin. She wore a classic white blouse with her black skirt.

Peter thought he smelled a hint of perfume, but it must be a deception. The woman extended her hand. Peter returned the gesture and reached into the void. Of course—it was a hologram, after all. The woman opened her mouth as if she were speaking, but no sound came out. She then pointed to her ear with her right hand.

He’d forgotten to turn on the sound. The music that the astral projector usually played annoyed him, so normally the sound was off. He rotated his index finger clockwise a few times.

“... very pleased to meet you,” the woman said with a slight accent.

“Likewise,” Peter said. “Although I was expecting to meet Miguel here.”

“I’m sorry about that,” the woman said. “I’m Miguel. But if you prefer, I can choose a different avatar, one that is male or genderless. My algorithms had calculated from the available data that you would respond best to a female avatar.”

“It’s okay,” Peter said.

So Miguel was a chatbot after all, an artificial intelligence. The woman looked so real. Except, when she moved her head and individual strands of hair became visible, they appeared with colorful fringes of light.

“What should I call you?” Peter asked.

“You’re welcome to stay with Miguel. That’s the name of my main programmer. He’s the one I feel most comfortable with.”

“Good. Miguel it is, then.”

“May I ask where we are?” asked Miguel.

The question sounded strange, but it was probably justified. The chatbot must have expected to show up in an office environment.

“In my living room,” Peter explained. “I prefer to work in a home office.”

He looked down at himself. Fortunately, he hadn’t slipped into his sweatpants yet, as he usually did after work.

“Of course,” Miguel said. “Would you please join me?”

What was she up to? No, he? Or better, it?

He took a few steps toward the avatar.

“Thank you,” Miguel said.

Suddenly, a shiny silver-colored metal shelf unit stood behind him, in which many cuboid boxes were stored. The living room door protruded into the image and therefore disrupted it.

“The door,” Miguel said.

“Yeah, go ahead and close it,” Peter said.

Miguel raised her hands and shrugged apologetically. Peter slapped his forehead. The avatar looked so real! Of course! She couldn’t interact with the real world. He gave the door handle a push and it slammed shut.

“Thank you.” The avatar turned to the shelf and took out one of the cubes. Then she held it out toward Peter as if it were a gift. “This is our basic unit. Technically a 3U CubeSat.”

The cuboid was slightly longer than a school ruler, and about ten centimeters each in height and depth.

“How much does something like this cost?” asked Peter.

“Well, before we talk about prices, let’s talk about what the basic unit can do. Always included are the Command and Control Module, or CCM, and a more than adequate power supply with a runtime of six weeks. Also integrated is the DEO, as required by law in the EU. If you want to save costs, we can refer you to our office in Kinshasa, where the regulations are a bit more relaxed.”

“The law requires deodorant for satellites?”

“A ‘deorbiting device.’ At the end of its lifetime, any new satellite launched under an EU license must be able to steer itself into the Earth’s upper atmosphere to burn up and thus avoid becoming space debris. We are relying on low-cost iodine thrusters. These are basically nothing more than pressurized spray bottles with no moving parts. I assume that the CubeSat will be stationed in low Earth orbit. At higher orbits, it will be much more expensive.”

“Ah, can we talk about prices now?”

“I still wanted to—”

“No, Miguel. First I need to know how much this fun will cost me.”

“The 3U module with the described equipment comes to about 119,000 euros, launch included. However, our ground services end one day after the launch. We offer a continuation of ground services in a low-cost subscription of 8,000 euros per week.”

“What do I need that for?”

“We monitor your satellite’s orbit and relay command and control signals to it. You could do this yourself with a powerful radio, at least when the CubeSat is within your range. You would have to determine how important constant monitoring is. I can make an algorithmic estimate if you tell me the exact purpose