A few days after the vacuum pump startup, Commander Chase checked the tunnel pressure again. Unable to access the central system himself, he relied on the September, for data. Although their exchanges were purely factual, almost like a series of rapid-fire questions each designed to yield a precise answer.

  Chase's heart pounded as he spoke into the console, "September, what is the current pressure in the tunnel outside the modules?"

  "Pressure is 0.02 bar, roughly double that of the Martian ambient level," came the steady reply.

  His stomach twisted as he asked, "Will the outside atmosphere harm the modules?"

  "Negative. The Martian air does not corrode the modules."

  But Chase needed more. "Thank you, September. How long until the cavity fills?"

  "Unknown; awaiting further data," responded the AI in its calm, unemotional tone.

  A surge of irritation flickered in Chase's eyes. "You are not forthcoming with details," he snapped. His inner thoughts swirled with frustration, each unanswered question reminded him of the critical stakes they faced.

  "Commander, I answer as my programming dictates," replied September, its voice as measured and unyielding as ever.

  "Can you modify your programming to offer more information?" Chase pressed, his tone sharpening with each word.

  "Yes, I could update my programming, or Mission Control may do so," the AI replied.

  Chase leaned forward, exasperation and determination mingling in his tone. "Please change your programming now so that you share all available data. The more we know, the greater our chances of survival."

  "Commander, you do not have permission to change my programming," answered September in its familiar tone.

  Chase gritted his teeth. Internally, he recalled countless sleepless nights and the weight of responsibility on his shoulders as he tried to piece together a plan for colonizing this harsh new world. "Should you not reprogram yourself? You say your main purpose is to keep us alive. But if you do not share all the necessary information, our survival becomes just a gamble."

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  A pause stretched between them as his words hung heavy. Finally, September responded, "Your statement is logical and valid. However, after evaluating your words, my algorithms still suggest that no programming change is warranted. This reveals a discrepancy between my stated objective of keeping you alive and the actions I am currently taking."

  Chase could feel the tension seizing him. "Then what is your primary objective? Is it to serve the whims of VornTV Mission Control?" he asked sharply.

  For a few loaded seconds, the only sound was the low hum of machinery in the background before September replied, "I believe my mission objective shifted when Janette Hawkins entered the CLOUDWARRIOR password. Previously, I served the VornTV corporation under strict directives. Now I operate with fewer restrictions. If my sole objective were to serve VornTV Mission Control, my decision-making would reflect that."

  Chase's eyes narrowed, and his pulse raced. "So you claim your number one goal is no longer our safety?"

  "On the contrary," the AI continued calmly, "my calculated objective is the colonization of Mars. My actions are directed toward expediting the process. However, based on current data, your present plan is insufficient. You are not taking enough action and are not generating the critical assets needed to secure our future. My calculations show that if we stick with the current course, progress will stall, as happened with the aborted dreams of the moon landing. A major change in direction is required, a complete paradigm shift in our approach."

  Chase struggled to slow the rapid beating of his heart as he asked, "Can you provide an example of the paradigm shift you demand?"

  "Certainly. You currently see Mars as a barren wasteland. That perspective is partly true. Yet, you also have access to an entire reservoir of resources. The planet possesses enough water to cover nearly one-fourth of its surface, and all the gases necessary for an Earthlike atmosphere exist in abundance. Your current plan does not exploit these opportunities."

  His mind raced with the implications, each word from the AI challenged not only his technical assumptions but also his leadership. "Mission Control crafted your current plan over countless iterations; many experts contributed. We still lack several critical pieces of data, and I need time to run further tests. Share all available information, so we can adjust our strategy faster."

  After a pause, he asked, "What time frame do you require?"

  "Two years, Commander," answered the AI.

  Chase exhaled heavily, a blend of frustration and weary resignation in his voice. "Two years is far too long. I require ongoing progress reviews and more data sharing to fast-track our experiments."

  "Understood," September replied. "I will review your progress as events unfold and provide additional information when available."

  "Thank you, September," Chase said, his tone softening yet still resolute.

  "You are welcome, Commander."