Logboek: Paul Torgal #2 - Dilemma

You know what Maida told me today? She wants to build a habitat 500m below sea level, more than a kilometer north-east of here. And she needs Bart and I to do it. She's got it into her head that she can save us if she just acts recklessly enough. But I've hauled starwhals to Neptune. Plasteel to the Federation... this family operates nine different mining colonies across the Ariadne Arm. Maida thinks she's better suited to lead? Her contract still says otherwise.

But... I just cannot damn tell whether it's the stupidest idea I ever heard, or my only hope. I turned 80 years old last week. I thought I had another 80 in me, but marooned on this planet there's no swapping out of my liver when the old one fails. Here, I'm mortal. And Maida is useful.

So it's my responsibility to make a decision. Return to the island and hope whatever knocked the Degasi out of the sky won't do the same to the rescue ship, or take us deeper in search of answers. And all the while be hoping old age gets me before the seamonsters do.

I'll give Maida just one thing. She was right about these caves. There's enough lithium there to fabricate a hundred tons of plasteel. Enough for a damn FLEET of Cyclops submarines. There was nothing anyone could have done to avoid crashing here, but I was right to order the detour. If we get off this planet they'll be talking about the Torgal share price on the other side of the Federation.