[ WP ] Space has become the future of humanity , unlocking a new age of innovation , colonization , and economic prosperity . But , life 's not great for all . Tell an emotionally-charged story of a working class man in space .

Coffee boils on the hotplate. I grab a cup and vape as I scan the morning headlines. `` Window opacity: 20 percent, style: venetian blind'', I tell the room. The room is barely illuminated by Sol. I am calm now. `` 4:28 a.m. Standard Earth'', the room states. 
 `` 4:28 a.m. Stand...'' 
 `` Thank you Isabelle, already up.'' 
 `` My pleasure, do you wish for me to alert you to your future alarms?'' 
 `` Yes.'' 
 `` Yes sir.'' 
 I continue reading an op-ed article about the possible discovery of intelligent life in the same age of technology as we were in the 1400's on a distant world. A very interesting anti-intervention argument noting the complexities of human society during that time and asking who do we contact, how do we relate to them without forcing existential questions and changes within those societies. I look towards Sol, inhale the vape, sip the coffee. What it would be like to actually be the one that was able to explore that beautiful cold void? To be able to passionately present my own argument to the council. I day-dream for a while, pretending to be a pathfinder, touching alien planets not just for resource extraction, or facility maintenance. Granted these things are needed, things need to be repaired, resources mined, resources shipped, but there is this sadness tugging at my stomach like an asteroid-catcher pulling a rock to a mining bay. 
 
 `` What if...'', I start to think. I pretend that my family had actually believed the counselor at the prep-school, had decided to put me in science and mathematics track. I pretended that I studied vigorously, arguing why the first mission to Mars was a failure, winning friends and friendly rivals, the ship operator's kid that was a secret genius. 
 
 I imagine presenting my arguing thesis reconciling Newtonian and Quantum physics, explaining the Bahri Mirroring effect of the two fields to the Science and Mathematical Institute of Singapore's Pathfinder Council, the most prestigious in the system. I imagine the accolades that are rained down upon my team, each of us freight-dock kids. Each of us set out on different Pathfinder missions, our solemn but joyful goodbyes as we set out on our own missions. 
 
 `` You'll forget where you come from. You think you're so goddamned smart just because some teacher said you might, MIGHT, be able to get into a Pathfinder program! I piss on her and I piss on you! ``, my father said. I instead fucked off and jumped my training ship as soon as the Demeter docked to Titan. A big fucking what if, I think to myself. I finish the cup of coffee, it's cold now. 
 
 `` 5:28 a.m. Standard Ea...'', the room snaps me back to reality. 
 `` Thank you Isabelle, discontinue alarm.'' 
 `` Have a good day sir'', the hollowly-warm female voice from the speakers says. 
 
 I pour another cup of coffee and stare out the window into the black silence of space. I then get ready to face another day working a hydrocarbon drill, watching my back, making sure that one of the other drill-monkeys does n't try to push me in the drill hole hoping to clear my spot for one of their cousins, or whomever. 
 
 The internals are cool from the night-day-night cycle. The day-night-day crews get the worst of it; sweating to the point of near dehydration, PAR-MED's responding to each work crew. Building the new drilling environment is brutal. I exit the dwelling and start towards the drilling hole for one of the corner-posts of the new drilling environment. Your hands are numb by the end of the last shift from the hydrocarbons rushing through the drill back to the holder.
