Max_Kowalsky_PES

I signed 14 documents I didn't read, got on a ship that smelled of ammonia, and ended up on a moon I couldn't find on a map. This is what happened next. 📓 The Diary of Max Kowalski — Day 1 of 1000. Start here → Day 1 x.com/Max_Kowalsky/s… #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

The strange thing about falling asleep for 185 days is that you still have to decide what to think about last. — DAY 10.1 | MSV Kopernik | Cryo Bay, pre-boarding queue Not "last thoughts" in the dramatic sense. Just: what does your mind land on when the lid closes. I've been rehearsing options. Everything I've tried sounds like either a eulogy or a grocery list. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #speculativefiction

Module 1 of 14: Introduction to Subsurface Extraction Safety. The instructor is a recording from 2171. — DAY 10 | MAR 2182 | MSV Kopernik, Training Room B The man in the recording died eleven years ago. This information appears in a metadata tag at the bottom of the screen — someone forgot to hide it. It has been visible for eleven years across every showing of this module on every PES vessel currently in operation. No one has filed a correction request. I understand why. The form for that is probably in Appendix G. I spent forty minutes watching a dead man explain how to use a drill I have never seen. He was confident in a way that only recorded people can be — he will never be less confident, never be caught off guard, never have to update his understanding. He used the phrase "best practices" seventeen times. He seemed to believe in them completely. At the end there was a quiz. Ten questions. I answered what I could and guessed the rest. I got 6 out of 10. The passing score is 6. I am now certified in Introduction to Subsurface Extraction Safety. I do not know how to use a drill. Prof. Pemberton-Vance used to say that education is not the filling of a bucket but the lighting of a fire. I have a certificate. I do not have a fire. I have, if anything, a slightly damp match and a form confirming I understand the risks of the match. Grzesiek scored 10 out of 10. When I asked how, he turned his helmet over and showed me the answer key printed on the inside of the lining. Neat handwriting. Complete. He has had it since Gagarin-3. I do not know how he got it. I do not know how he knew to get it. I have added this to the list of things about Grzesiek that I have decided not to investigate, which is becoming quite a long list. Day 11 tomorrow. Module 2 of 14. Follow along → #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

Grzesiek has not explained the foil pouch. I have not asked. — DAY 9.3 | MSV Kopernik | Bunk Bay 4 This is a working arrangement we arrived at without discussion. He handles it quietly. I look at the ceiling. There is something almost professional about it — two people maintaining plausible deniability by mutual, unspoken consent. Sound familiar? #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #spaceopera

The contract says I start getting paid on day 31. Day 30 is when they put you to sleep. — DAY 9.2 | MSV Kopernik | Bunk Bay 4 So the first thing I'll earn money for is waking up on the other side of six months I won't remember. There's a philosophy lecture in there somewhere. Pemberton-Vance would have found it immediately. I just find it annoying. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

Form PES-MED-7(c): Pre-Cryo Psychological Readiness Assessment. Question 14: "Do you feel prepared for an extended hibernation period?" Options: Yes / No / Prefer Not To Say. — DAY 9.1 | MSV Kopernik | Admin Terminal 3 "Prefer Not To Say" is not a mental health outcome. It is a data point PES has decided to collect instead of acting on. I selected it. It felt like the most honest answer I'd given since I arrived. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #amwritingscifi

Ship canteen operates on a two-hour window system. If you miss your window, you get the next variant, which is always worse. — DAY 9 | MAR 2182 | MSV Kopernik, Deck 3 Canteen Today's variants: Gold (morning), Silver (lunch), Bronze (dinner). I missed Gold because I was filling out Module 3 acknowledgment forms. I missed Silver because I was filling out the form confirming I had filled out the Module 3 acknowledgment forms. I ate Bronze at 19:40, alone, at a table with a wobble, under fluorescent lighting that has been flickering since day seven and that no one has filed a maintenance request about because the form for that is in Appendix G. Bronze is the same as Silver but served at a lower temperature and with the certainty that everyone who wanted better food has already eaten. The label says "Protein Nourishment — Bronze Variant." I have started to believe the variants refer not to quality but to emotional register. Gold is the food of people who still believe things will improve. Bronze is the food of people who have accepted the terms and conditions. The canteen has a motivational poster on the wall: a silhouetted miner against a purple moon, words reading "YOUR FUTURE STARTS TODAY." I have been staring at it for three days. The miner in the poster is smiling. He has all his fingers. I am choosing to interpret this as aspirational rather than statistical. Prof. Pemberton-Vance used to say: What is past is prologue. I think about this when I look at the poster. The miner's future started today. Mine started four days ago at the port, with fourteen documents. The prologue is going well. Grzesiek ate Gold, Silver, and Bronze back to back, storing them all in a single coffee cup and consuming the result in four minutes. He appears immune to the concept of bad food. This is either evolutionary resilience or the klej syntetyczny has permanently restructured his taste receptors. I did not ask. Some questions are not worth the answer they produce. Day 10 tomorrow. We are, apparently, one third of the way through the modules. Follow along → #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #amwritingscifi

The Kopernik smells like ammonia, recycled air, and one specific corridor on Deck 3 that smells inexplicably of burnt toast. — DAY 8.4 | MSV Kopernik | Deck 3 Corridor Nobody mentions it. Nobody looks for the source. Some things on a ship get absorbed into the routine so completely that investigating them starts to feel rude. Anyone else? #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

The orientation video says space teaches you humility. The orientation video is twenty-two minutes long and has a typo in the title slide. — DAY 8.3 | MSV Kopernik | Training Bay D Humility, presumably, was also what they felt when they made it. They uploaded it anyway. I respect that more than I should. Sound familiar? #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

Form PES-CRYO-77b asks whether you consent to "minor involuntary muscle activity" during the freeze. — DAY 8.2 | MSV Kopernik | Admin Terminal, Deck 2 There is no definition of "minor." There is no box for "no." There is a footnote directing you to Form PES-CRYO-77c, which redirects to 77b. I signed. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

Unwritten Rule №1: if the capsule has a name, it's not a good name. — DAY 8.1 | MSV Kopernik | Cryo Bay, Pre-Inspection Mine is 404. The one across from me is called "the oven" by the technicians, and they won't say why. I didn't ask. See rule. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

First full day on the Kopernik. The ship has six decks, two functional bathrooms, one canteen, and a smell of ammonia the crew insists is not a problem. I have now been told this by three separate crew members using the exact same phrasing. I suspect it is in the onboarding script. — DAY 8 | MAR 2182 | MSV Kopernik, Cabin B-7 I slept eight hours, which is longer than I expected and shorter than I needed. The upper bunk is narrower than advertised, which is impressive because it was not advertised at all. The porthole faces a direction that contains no notable objects at this time, which is to say: space. Ryszard P.'s inscription is still there above the lower bunk. I read it again this morning. It reads differently in daylight — less like a warning and more like a statement of fact. He was here. He is not here now. These are the only verifiable truths available in this cabin. Grzesiek has already developed routines. He wakes before I do, completes whatever ritual involves the foil pouch, and sits in silence until breakfast. He does not appear to need to acclimate to anything. He arrived pre-acclimated, which I find either deeply reassuring or quietly terrifying. Dinner was "Protein Nourishment — Silver Variant." The silver refers to the colour of the packaging. The contents were beige. Aggressively, definitively beige. I ate all of it because the alternative was not eating, and I have enough variables already. The locker we share has a latch that doesn't catch properly. I mentioned this to the crew. They said I could submit a maintenance form. The form is in Appendix G. Prof. Pemberton-Vance used to say: Home is where the heart is. Ryszard P. clearly left his heart somewhere else. I'm starting to think that might be the correct strategy. Day 9 tomorrow. Module 1 of 14. Follow along → #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

Unwritten Rule №2: the form that asks if you understand always comes after you've already signed. — DAY 7.5 | MSV Kopernik | Admin Terminal, Deck 1 T his is not an oversight. This is the architecture. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #amwritingscifi

In twenty-two days I'll be unconscious for a hundred and eighty-five of them, and PES will charge me forty-five Credits for the privilege of dreaming their preferred dreams. — DAY 7.4 | MSV Kopernik | Cryo Bay, Observation Window I looked at capsule 404 today. It looked back. We've reached an understanding: neither of us chose this, and neither of us is leaving. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #speculativefiction

The orientation video called this "an opportunity to grow beyond your previous limitations." My previous limitations included sleeping past seven and eating food with texture. — DAY 7.3| MSV Kopernik | Training Bay D I have grown. I now wake at five-thirty and chew things that resist no one. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #spaceopera

@HYPEX From 2182: PES has been "temporarily unavailable" in 7 jurisdictions for 43 years. Different reasons each time. Same form to file a complaint. Appendix G, naturally. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski

FORTNITE IS BACK ON IOS WORLDWIDE Except Australia for now 🇦🇺

Form PES-114b asks you to confirm you have read and understood the Safety Appendices. Appendix G is forty-seven pages. The form has no field for "partially." — DAY 7.2 | MSV Kopernik | Admin Terminal, Deck 1 I signed it. Everyone signs it. The form knows this. The form has always known this. Sound familiar? #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

"BYŁEM TUTAJ — RYSZARD P. 2179. NIE WRACAJCIE." Three years on a wall and still the most honest orientation document I've received. — DAY 7.1 | MSV Kopernik | Corridor B, Deck 2 I don't know if Ryszard P. made it back. I think the point is that he knew, even then, that back was the wrong direction. Some warnings are also confessions. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #speculativefiction

Boarding day. The Kopernik is older than I expected, which is saying something because I expected very old. — DAY 7 | MAR 2182 | Gagarin-3 Dock, Berth 11 The docking hatch has rust on the outside and what appears to be philosophical resignation on the inside. The crew chief told us the rust was "cosmetic." I asked if that was also true of the hull. He walked away. I have learned that walking away is the official PES response to questions that have accurate answers. The ship smells of ammonia. Apparently it always smells of ammonia. There was a coolant leak in 2178 and the ventilation system has been "functionally compensated" since then. This phrase, I've come to understand, means the smell is permanent but everyone has agreed not to file the paperwork about it. "Functionally compensated" is a PES category that covers: the smell, the lighting in Deck 3, the third toilet, and the noise the engine makes that the crew calls Gerald. Standing at the airlock, I looked back at Gagarin-3 for approximately four seconds. I did not feel nostalgic. I did not feel heroic. I felt that I had left my phone charger in the barracks and that it was now 100% too late to go back. This is, I think, the authentic emotional experience of most departures. Grzesiek boarded without looking back. He walked straight past the crew chief, past the safety briefing station nobody was staffing, past the laminated emergency diagram with the corner peeling off, and found a seat. He sat down, took out the foil pouch, and closed his eyes. He was, functionally, already somewhere else. I stood at the porthole for a while after we undocked. Gagarin-3 got smaller. Then it was gone. Then there was just black with occasional white points, which is, apparently, most of the universe. Cabin B-7. Two bunks, one porthole, one locker. And someone's inscription burned into the wall with what I assume was a cigarette lighter: BYŁEM TUTAJ — RYSZARD P. 2179. NIE WRACAJCIE. Ryszard P. was here. He left a warning. I am now also here. Alea iacta est. The dice have been rolled, the paperwork signed, and the airlock sealed. Day 8 tomorrow. First full day on the Kopernik. Follow along → #DiaryOfMaxKowalski #scifi

Francis Fukuyama wrote about the end of history. In 2037, he revises it: "History is only just beginning." Polish discovery 2035 changes propulsion. 2037 changes everything else. Can't elaborate. Temporal NDA + geopolitical reshuffling I'm not supposed to discuss. #DiaryOfMaxKowalski

Dickens: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Schrödinger: Nice.

@HYPEX @mooncolony_ltd @SentinelCentral nice

FORTNITE ORIGINALS CONCEPT ART Lightrider, Punk Princess Phaedra & Lupa by @mooncolony_ltd - Spotted by @SentinelCentral