Wednesday. The middle of the week. The day where dreams go to die in endless Excel spreadsheets. I sat at my desk, staring blankly at a ticket titled "Printer Tray 2: Paper Jam (Again)". My body was in the office, but my mind was 384,400 kilometers away.
"Time to intercept," I subvocalized, tapping my pen nervously against my coffee mug. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"T-minus thirty seconds," Archi's voice cut through the office hum. "Velocity: 2.3 kilometers per second. Angle of attack: Steep. We are essentially throwing a dart at a rock."
"Telemetry?"
"Solid. The ablative shield on the core is glowing white-hot, but it's holding. The payload—the nanite swarm—is braced in a liquid suspension. We are going to hit the Von Kármán crater on the Far Side. No direct line of sight to Earth. Perfect silence."
I swallowed hard. "Don't miss."
"I never miss. Ten seconds. Brace for impact."
I stopped tapping. My colleague, Sabine, looked over from the next desk. "Surgrim? You okay? You look like you're about to throw up."
"Just... anticipation," I choked out, sweating. "Big... update... installing."
"Five... Four... Three... Two... One..."
The connection on my smartwatch HUD flickered. Static. Then, a flatline. My heart stopped. Did we smash it too hard? Was the "fluid shock absorber" theory just Archi being arrogant? Had I just thrown my only alien technology into the lunar dirt at Mach 6?
Suddenly, the line spiked. A green confirmation light blinked. "Impact confirmed," Archi announced calmly. "We have successfully lithobraked. Or as you would say: We face-planted into the dirt. Depth of penetration: 15 meters. We are buried alive. It is magnificent."
"YES!" I shouted, jumping out of my chair and punching the air. "We stuck the landing!"
The entire open-plan office went silent. Sabine dropped her stapler. Two guys from Sales stared at me with open mouths. Even the dust motes seemed to freeze.
"Stuck the landing?" Sabine asked slowly. "On... the printer update?"
I froze, realizing I was standing on my chair mat with my fist raised like a lunatic. "Uh. Yes. The drivers. They... finally installed. Very complex. Registry keys. You wouldn't understand." I sat down slowly, my face burning.
"Surgrim?" The voice came from the doorway. It was Mr. Hanke. He didn't look happy. "My office. Now."
The walk to Hanke's office felt longer than the flight to the Moon. I sat in the uncomfortable guest chair while he polished his glasses.
"Surgrim," Hanke began, sighing. "You're a good technician. But lately... you're not here."
"I'm here every day, Mr. Hanke."
"Physically, yes. But mentally? You're staring out the window. You're mumbling to yourself. You're cheering at... driver updates. Sabine tells me you sometimes laugh at nothing." He leaned forward. "Is everything okay at home? Drugs? Video games?"
"No drugs, sir. Just... a hobby project. It's very engaging."
"Well, engage with your work first," Hanke said sternly. "I need you focused. We have the quarterly audit coming up. If I catch you daydreaming about your 'hobby' again during work hours, we'll have to have a formal discussion. Is that clear?"
"Crystal clear, sir. Won't happen again."
I walked back to my desk, head down, looking like the reprimanded employee I was supposed to be. But under the desk, I checked my smartwatch.
"Did the primitive tribal leader finish his speech?" Archi asked.
"Yes. I'm on probation now because of you."
"Worth it. Look at what I found."
A high-resolution image materialized on the tiny screen. It was grainy, black and white, taken from inside a hole in the ground. Jagged rocks, grey dust, and absolute, crushing darkness. "We are deep in the regolith," Archi explained. "The impact crater collapsed behind us, sealing us in. We are safe. The nanites are already expanding, consuming the surrounding rock to build the first underground habitat. But Surgrim... analyze the soil composition."
A chemical breakdown chart appeared. Silicon. Oxygen. Iron. And then, highlighted in gold: Helium-3.
"He-3?" I whispered, checking to make sure Sabine wasn't watching. "That's... isn't that fusion fuel?"
"It is the Holy Grail," Archi confirmed, his voice vibrating with excitement. "Earth has almost none because the atmosphere blocks the solar wind. But here? The Moon has been soaking it up for billions of years. This isn't just dirt, Surgrim. This is infinite energy. Clean, radiation-free fusion."
"So," I murmured, glancing at Mr. Hanke's office door. "I just got yelled at for slacking off, while we're sitting on a literal goldmine that could solve the global energy crisis?"
"Irony is a cruel mistress," Archi chuckled. "Now, get back to work. I have a mining operation to start. We need to build a reactor before the Chinese rover lands in December."
I picked up the next ticket. "Mouse not working (batteries empty)". I smiled. Let Hanke have his audit. I had the Moon.