meters long. Reflective material coated the hull to minimize solar heating. Each of the beast’s six wheels was a meter and a half across. The bulk of the machine was a huge, empty basin. Powerful hydraulics on the front and a hinge on the rear provided the basin’s dumping mechanism.
The front of the harvester had a scoop with associated articulation. There was no passenger compartment, of course. Harvesters were automated—though they could be remote-controlled when necessary. A sealed metal box rested where you might expect a cockpit. It bore the Toyota logo, along with the word “Tsukuruma” in a stylish font.
Roll-around toolboxes and maintenance equipment surrounded the harvester wherever the workers had left off at the end of their shift.
“Okay,” I said, taking in the scene. “This is going to be a challenge.”
“What’s the problem?” Trond walked over to one of the wheels and leaned against it. “It’s just a robot—it doesn’t have any defenses. Its only AI is for pathing. I’m sure you and a big tank of acetylene could figure something out.”
“This thing is a
tank
, Trond. It’s not going to be easy to kill.” I walked partially around the harvester and got a closer look at the undercarriage. “And it’s got cameras everywhere.”
“Of course it does,” said Trond. “It needs them to navigate.”
“It sends video back to its controllers,” I said. “Once it goes offline, the controllers will roll back to footage to see what happened. They’ll see me.”
“So cover up any identifying marks on your EVA suit,” Trond said. “No problem.”
“Oh there’s a problem. They’ll call the EVA masters to ask what the hell’s going on, and then the EVA masters will come out to get me. They won’t know who I am, but they can drag my ass back inside and have a
Scooby-Doo
moment when they pull my helmet off.”
He walked around to my side of the harvester. “I see your point.”
I ran my hands through my hair. I hadn’t showered that morning. I felt like I was a wad of grease that had been dipped in a vat of dirtier grease. “I need to come up with something that has a delayed effect. So it’ll happen
after
I get back inside.”
“And don’t forget, you’ve got to total the things. If there’s anything left to fix, Sanchez’s repair crews will have them up and running in days.”
“Yeah, I know.” I pinched my chin. “Where’s the battery?”
“In the forward compartment. The box with the Toyota logo on it.”
I found a primary breaker box near the forward compartment. Inside were the main breakers to protect the electronics from power surges or shorts. Worth noting.
I leaned up against a nearby tool cabinet. “When they’re full, they take their stuff to the smelter?”
“Yeah.” He picked up a wrench and threw it into the air. It lofted toward the ceiling.
“Then they…what? Dump their load and go back to Moltke?”
“After they recharge.”
I ran my hand along the sleek, reflective metal of the basin. “How big’s the battery?”
“Two point four megawatt hours.”
“Wow!” I turned to him. “I could arc-weld with that kind of juice.”
He shrugged. “Hauling a hundred tons of rock takes energy.”
I climbed under the harvester. “How does it deal with heat rejection? Wax state-change material?”
“No idea.”
When you’re in a vacuum, getting rid of heat is a problem. There’s no air to carry it away. And when you have electric power, every Joule of energy ultimately becomes heat. It might be from electrical resistance, friction in moving parts, or chemical reactions in the battery that release the energy in the first place. But ultimately it all ends up as heat.
Artemis has a complex coolant system that conveys the heat to thermal panels near the reactor complex. They sit in the shade and slowly radiate the energy away as infrared light. But the harvesters had to be self-contained.
After some searching, I found what I was
The front of the harvester had a scoop with associated articulation. There was no passenger compartment, of course. Harvesters were automated—though they could be remote-controlled when necessary. A sealed metal box rested where you might expect a cockpit. It bore the Toyota logo, along with the word “Tsukuruma” in a stylish font.
Roll-around toolboxes and maintenance equipment surrounded the harvester wherever the workers had left off at the end of their shift.
“Okay,” I said, taking in the scene. “This is going to be a challenge.”
“What’s the problem?” Trond walked over to one of the wheels and leaned against it. “It’s just a robot—it doesn’t have any defenses. Its only AI is for pathing. I’m sure you and a big tank of acetylene could figure something out.”
“This thing is a
tank
, Trond. It’s not going to be easy to kill.” I walked partially around the harvester and got a closer look at the undercarriage. “And it’s got cameras everywhere.”
“Of course it does,” said Trond. “It needs them to navigate.”
“It sends video back to its controllers,” I said. “Once it goes offline, the controllers will roll back to footage to see what happened. They’ll see me.”
“So cover up any identifying marks on your EVA suit,” Trond said. “No problem.”
“Oh there’s a problem. They’ll call the EVA masters to ask what the hell’s going on, and then the EVA masters will come out to get me. They won’t know who I am, but they can drag my ass back inside and have a
Scooby-Doo
moment when they pull my helmet off.”
He walked around to my side of the harvester. “I see your point.”
I ran my hands through my hair. I hadn’t showered that morning. I felt like I was a wad of grease that had been dipped in a vat of dirtier grease. “I need to come up with something that has a delayed effect. So it’ll happen
after
I get back inside.”
“And don’t forget, you’ve got to total the things. If there’s anything left to fix, Sanchez’s repair crews will have them up and running in days.”
“Yeah, I know.” I pinched my chin. “Where’s the battery?”
“In the forward compartment. The box with the Toyota logo on it.”
I found a primary breaker box near the forward compartment. Inside were the main breakers to protect the electronics from power surges or shorts. Worth noting.
I leaned up against a nearby tool cabinet. “When they’re full, they take their stuff to the smelter?”
“Yeah.” He picked up a wrench and threw it into the air. It lofted toward the ceiling.
“Then they…what? Dump their load and go back to Moltke?”
“After they recharge.”
I ran my hand along the sleek, reflective metal of the basin. “How big’s the battery?”
“Two point four megawatt hours.”
“Wow!” I turned to him. “I could arc-weld with that kind of juice.”
He shrugged. “Hauling a hundred tons of rock takes energy.”
I climbed under the harvester. “How does it deal with heat rejection? Wax state-change material?”
“No idea.”
When you’re in a vacuum, getting rid of heat is a problem. There’s no air to carry it away. And when you have electric power, every Joule of energy ultimately becomes heat. It might be from electrical resistance, friction in moving parts, or chemical reactions in the battery that release the energy in the first place. But ultimately it all ends up as heat.
Artemis has a complex coolant system that conveys the heat to thermal panels near the reactor complex. They sit in the shade and slowly radiate the energy away as infrared light. But the harvesters had to be self-contained.
After some searching, I found what I was
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