by Andrew Brook
Dennis cleared some papers from his desk, erased the whiteboard behind it and then walked around the office.
“Nice job everyone, that was less than five minutes,” he smiled. “Now, our visitor is an aerospace analyst so she probably knows her stuff. If she asks detailed questions, don’t BS her, just tell her you’re not allowed to talk about proprietary technology with her and ask her to come to me or Molly. Remember, we’re just humble space prospectors, looking to mine the asteroid belt. Sending some more spaceships out to look for rocks rich in metals and ice. Got it?”
Everyone nodded.
“Good. Try to keep things moving as best as you can. We’ve got 15 little spaceships that need to finish testing, get packed in foam and sealed into those,” Dennis pointed at a stack of large rectangular plastic containers arranged on a wooden pallet. The pallet was near the back of the office by the freight elevator. “And the guys from DHL will be here at eight tonight. So we’re going to be loaded and ready to go by seven. Got it?”
Again, everyone nodded.
“Ok, back to work then.”
Dennis sighed and went to refill his coffee mug. He was interrupted by a high-pitched whine.
“Streaming live in 5… 4… 3…”
“What the fuck?!” Dennis exclaimed and nearly dropped his coffee mug.
A quadcopter barely the size of a smartphone whirred across the room. It was blue with the distinctive logo of a popular social media app.
“2… 1… And we’re live!” the drone said through tinny speakers. A red light on its belly started to flash.
“Is that a damn Facebook drone?!” Dennis spluttered.
“Ricky!” Mike shouted from across the room. “Shut that down now!”
“Sorry!” Ricky replied. He pressed a button on his phone and the red light on the drone stopped flashing. A moment later the drone swiftly banked and flew to Ricky’s desk where it landed softly.
Dennis took a deep breath. Ricky held his. Mike looked at Dennis. Molly looked at Dennis. Tabitha ignored them all.
Dennis took another deep breath.
“Ricky, I’m certain I told you that you can’t fly a streaming drone in our office.”
“Yes, Dennis. You said we have too much secret stuff. But we just put all the secret stuff away so I thought it would be ok…”
Dennis looked at Mike. Mike shrugged his shoulders. Dennis sighed.
“Ok, Ricky, it’s not a big deal but we don’t allow live streaming anything from the office. Even now. It’s too much of a risk. And besides, we all have a lot of work to do.”
“Yes, boss.”
Dennis tried to think of something else to say. He couldn’t so he just turned around and walked into the kitchen. Maybe another cup of coffee would improve the day.
“Jessica, you remember Dennis, right?”
Tony and Jessica had arrived. Dennis and Molly met them at the door.
“Yes, of course,” Jessica replied and shook Dennis’s hand.
“Good to see you again, Jessica,” Dennis forced a smile and then turned to his left. “And this is Molly Owens, co-founder and Chief Scientist.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Jessica said and held out her hand.
“Welcome to Jovian Resources Galactic Headquarters,” Molly replied with a grin and shook Jessica’s hand.
Jessica laughed, “Thank you!”
Tony placed his hand on Jessica’s shoulder and gently guided her toward the main work area.
Molly glanced over at Dennis and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Now this is where the magic happens!” Tony exclaimed, making an expansive gesture with his free hand. “A tiny team but a grand vision to unlock the riches of the solar system!”
Dennis looked back at Molly and rolled his eyes. He then turned again to face Jessica and Tony.
“Tony’s right. Don’t let the size of the team fool you. We outsource non-core functions so we can run very, very lean. And we’re innovative. We design our own drives, drills, sensors and enclosures.”
Dennis stepped up to the work table opposite Mike.
“Mike Jones is our senior electrical engineer but he handles a lot of the physical assembly, too.”
Mike waved from the other end of the table and said a cheerful, “Hello!”
Dennis continued. “Using our 3D printers, Mike can fabricate plastic or powdered metal components up to about twenty centimeters in length. Larger pieces or those requiring special materials are made by one of our suppliers but we really benefit from the ability to prototype quickly on-site. And most of our electronics are simple off-the-shelf components that thanks to the smartphone industry are small, cheap and reliable.”
Dennis continued to the other side of the table and gestured to the drill assembly.
“For example, the bits are made from a high strength carbon steel alloy used in the gas drilling industry and are shipped here from Texas. The accelerometers are made in Malaysia for phones and cost pennies each. And the microcontroller is an open-source design used in drones and is fabricated in California.” Dennis unfolded an array of thin struts from the end of the assembly that Mike had unpacked on the table. The articulated struts looked like the spines of an umbrella. Dennis continued, “But these anchoring legs were made right here using a high tensile polymer. It really grips uneven surfaces - a critical requirement for drilling effectively in microgravity.”
“Fascinating,” Jessica nodded and looked closely at the assembly. “Is this one going up on one of the spacecraft you’re launching later this week?”
“No, that one is a prototype that we keep in the office. The first fleet of prospecting craft went up almost eighteen months ago followed by another batch nine months ago. The fifteen birds we’re prepping for launch this week are tugs.”
“Tugs?” Jessica asked.
“General purpose craft that can maneuver an asteroid around once we’ve found one that meets our needs and have drilled anchors into it,” Molly explained.
“Ah, that makes sense,” Jessica nodded.
“And you do your software development in-house too?”
“Yes,” Dennis confirmed. “Tabitha and I handle most of the core development,” Dennis nodded his head in Tabitha’s direction and Tabitha gave a polite smile but didn’t get up from her desk. “We use some open-source libraries but there’s a lot of proprietary Jovian IP in there, too. As I was saying the last time we met, our AI is one of our biggest differentiators. Our craft can coordinate to handle a wide range of different challenges that might be encountered in deep space. This is far more efficient than attempting to fly by remote control.”
“Yes, that certainly sounds impressive,” Jessica agreed. “Is it possible for me to see the craft themselves?”
Tony looked uncomfortable and was about to open his mouth to object but Dennis waved it off saying, “No problem. They’re just going through their final vibration tests so we can’t touch them. And you’ll need to get suited up to enter the cleanroom. But I’d be happy to let you look at our babies.”
“I’d love to,” Jessica agreed.
Dennis led them to the entrance to the cleanroom and opened an adjacent metal storage cabinet. He reached into a cardboard box and retrieved a handful of crumpled fabric.
“Please put on this Tyvek suit, Jessica, as well as some shoe covers and a hair net,” Dennis gestured at the other boxes in the cabinet.
Jessica, Molly, Tony and Dennis put on similarly simple white coveralls, foot covers and hair nets.
When they had finished, Dennis pulled aside the thick plastic flap that was the entrance to the cleanroom. “Ok, step right through here, be sure to step on the sticky paper in the floor to remove dirt from your shoes and please be careful not to bump into anything.”
Molly and Tony followed Jessica, stepping onto the thin film of sticky paper on the floor and then into the room. Dennis followed them, closing the flap behind him.
“Are you really able to maintain cleanro
om conditions without a double door entry?” Jessica asked.
“This isn’t a true cleanroom,” Dennis replied. “We aren’t doing semiconductor fabrication so extreme measures aren’t necessary but we find that reducing dust and other contaminants improves reliability once we’re in space.”
The cleanroom was dominated by a large open table in the middle of the room and rows of large metal shelves on the side walls. Ten of the shelves were occupied by foil-wrapped packages and five spacecraft sat on the table. Each was resting on top of a metal tray that was vibrating.
The five devices on the table didn’t look like typical spacecraft - no sleek curves or aerodynamic wings. Instead they were rectangles 40 centimeters long with 10 centimeter square cross sections. Only the cone of the ion drive at the far end hinted that this was a device that was meant to fly through space.
Dennis stood next to the nearest spacecraft and gestured at it. “As you can see, we’ve taken the standard cubesat design as a starting point. This model is four cubes in length. The ion drive’s accelerator tube runs through the center of the two middle cubes and the exhaust cone takes up the space that would be the fourth cube.”
Dennis walked around to the other end of the table and continued. “The front cube is dedicated to the antenna and anchor assembly that I showed you earlier. The middle two cubes contain the main computer and RTG.”
“RTG?” Jessica asked.
“Radioisotope thermoelectric generator,” Molly explained. “We generate power for both the electronics and the drive from the decay of radioactive materials.”
“I don’t see anything thick enough to be radiation shielding on the sides, though,” Jessica observed and took a hesitant step backward.
“Oh, the RTGunits have integrated shielding but they aren’t installed yet. They’ll be slotted into our spacecraft at Wallops just before they get loaded onto the launch vehicle,” Molly continued.
“Apparently Plutonium is something you can’t just keep in an office in Brooklyn,” Dennis added and smiled.
Jessica chuckled and nodded.
“What’s this one doing?” Jessica asked, pointing at the last spacecraft. Its main manipulator arm was extended from the front of the craft and was grasping a circuit board. A shorter manipulator arm was extended from the side of the craft, ending in a plug that was connected to the circuit board.
Dennis paused for a moment, his mouth opening and closing before Molly interjected, “It’s simulating docking with one of our other craft. Some of our maneuvers are performed by multiple vehicles linked together. Among other things it means they can share data at higher speed and lower power than using their radio or laser transmitters.”
Dennis nodded and continued, “Of course while the spacecraft are under thrust there will be vibration so we need to make sure they don’t come undocked.”
“Of course, that makes sense,” Jessica nodded and continued to walk around the table.
After the silence grew longer, Tony cleared his throat.
“Well, I know the tour was short but I trust you now have a better understanding of Jovian Resources. I’m afraid the team has some challenging milestones to meet tonight and we need to let them get back to work.”
“Of course,” Jessica looked up from the spaceship she was standing closest to and then turned toward Dennis. “Thank you so much for taking time out on such a busy day to give me a tour. You have accomplished a lot here. I’ve visited some of the world’s largest and most advanced aerospace firms and I can honestly say that you guys are very much in the same league.”
She smiled at Tony and added, “And you guys are absolutely kicking ass in terms of innovation per square foot.”
Tony chuckled at hearing one of his favorite slogans repeated back to him. He held aside the flap over the entrance of the cleanroom as Jessica, Molly and Dennis filed out.
After removing their protective cleanroom wear, Jessica and Tony said their goodbyes and left the office. Molly and Dennis stood just inside Jovian’s door until the sound of Tony and Jessica’s footsteps faded down the stairwell.
“So, are they an item?” Molly asked.
“Yeah, well. Um. I don’t really know, actually,” Dennis admitted.
“I hope Tony knows what the hell he’s doing,” Molly asserted. “Dating an aerospace analyst while we’re at this stage of our mission. Talk about risky.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Dennis agreed and then shrugged his shoulders exaggeratedly.
“What could possibly go wrong?”
Seven
“Good night, Marie.”
Marie Renault looked up from her screen. Walter Stein was waving to her over the beige fabric wall that separated her cube from his.
“Good night, Walter,” Marie sighed.
Her eyes drifted across her nameplate on their way back to her workstation’s screen. “Dr. Marie Renault, Senior Analyst”. Not for the first time Marie wondered how earning a Phd in Mathematics from the École Normale Supérieure Paris had led to working long hours in a drab cubicle in Washington, DC.
A sunny spring morning in the 5th arrondissement. The giddy feeling of a newly minted doctorate. An unexpected email from a friend of a friend. He’d read her dissertation on using machine learning to identify systemic risks in complex systems. He claimed to have access to data from the world’s most complex system - one with gargantuan risks. Apply her thesis and save the world. Was she interested?
Almost three years later and Marie was wondering what is was like to actually see the sun. Even when she went outside during daylight hours Washington’s drab architecture just depressed her.
This wasn’t Paris.
Ah, but that dataset. Yes, she did in fact have access to one of the largest and most complex datasets in the world. As the regulatory agency with primary responsibility for the stability of the US banking system, the US Federal Reserve had access to vast amounts of data. And through partnerships with other regulators in the US and around the world it had access to much of the data that coursed through the electronic veins of global finance.
But Marie’s brilliant ideas had run up against the hard realities of the markets. Data was never clean or complete, it was always in the wrong format, had inconsistent timestamps or was just outright wrong. Computers were never fast enough, even when you had access to thousands of specialized graphical processing units housed in a faraway datacenter whose parallel computing power had been repurposed to simulating a vast artificial neural network. And theory never quite matched the real world.
Marie sighed and looked at her smartphone. Almost 9:30 pm. She hadn’t eaten dinner yet but the latest model still hadn’t finished running. Most fast food options were closed now but there was a pub on K Street just across 20th. She didn’t feel like greasy pub food but it was better than nothing, especially if she was going to be spending another late night in the office.
A soft “ding” from her workstation interrupted Marie as she was putting on her jacket. She leaned over her chair to look at the screen. The model had finished running.
“Merde!”
Marie looked at the clock on her smartphone again and took her jacket off. She sat back down in her chair, opened a new text editor window and started to read through the file containing the results of her model.
Insider trading was always a risk to financial markets. Unscrupulous operators used their privileged knowledge of upcoming events to profit at the expense of other investors. But to profit they needed to take certain actions in advance of the rest of the market. They went to great lengths to hide their behavior but it invariably left a pattern in the data. Like the roulette player who puts his money on the right number more often than chance should allow. Or the terrorist who is spotted on CCTV running away from the bomb before it explodes. Financial crimes were far less exciting than casinos or terrorism but they were important. And the key was to spot suspicious patterns in vast streams of numbers that were incredibly chaotic to begin with. Humans were
wholly inadequate for such tasks but sufficiently powerful machines could learn to spot the real threats amongst the noise if they were trained with the right algorithms.
“C'est très intéressant,” Marie mumbled to herself and looked more closely.
Yes, her model had correctly identified the crimes that she already knew about. The lawyer who was working on a merger and placed a wide range of trades in equity and option markets for months in advance through intermediaries. The automobile manufacturer that knew that investigators had proof that its cars emitted far more pollution that they’d reported. Several senior executives had shorted their firm’s stock through accounts at a hedge fund based on an island in the Caribbean. They’d made millions and would likely have avoided detection if one of them hadn’t turned the others in. But they couldn’t hide from Marie. She smiled as she confirmed that her model had identified all of the crimes that she’d known were present in the dataset. It was finally working!
Marie’s smile faded as she continued to scroll down through the results file.
Her lips parted and she whispered, “Mon Dieu!”
The model had worked even better than she had expected. In addition to the crimes she already knew about it had found dozens of additional instances of suspicious patterns, all of them serious.
Most incidents that the model detected were of the sort that she expected. An investor in a pharmaceutical company had used complex derivatives to earn tens of millions of dollars in advance of the announcement of successful trials of a new medication. The wife of a member of the Senate Banking Committee had been shorting the stocks of several large banks prior to the drafting of major new legislation. The list went on.
She would double-check the results again in the morning and then report them. It would take time to explain to her superiors how her system had detected them - few of the senior bureaucrats who ran her division understood emerging technologies like machine learning. But Marie was confident they would lead to prosecutions in the end. This was it, she thought as her pulse sped up. This was going to make her career.
