I've got a new challenge. The caloris crystals to fuel my heat suit are running out. I have about two weeks worth if I'm active during the day, probably six if I stay in the pod. But yeah, staying in the pod won't get me any more so that's two weeks of living or six weeks of dying. Yet another goddamn thing to worry about. I was thinking the other day of how much I feel like a hunter-gatherer. I'm alone in my wreck as they would be on the steppe, hoping for whatever providence might befall them. Whenever they found something big, like an newly dead elephant or a beached whale they'd send out runners to nearby tribes and invite them to a feast. Survival of the fittest doesn't mean the one that can run fastest, just means the one that can adapt best to whatever shit's falling from the sky. You scratch my back I'll be less likely to steal your daughters in the future.
I need a whale to beach on my wreck. I've got two weeks.