CHAPTER 3 “Anecdote: Birth of ISTRI”
Monday 22 August 2011
A message from Abe appeared on Hoshiko’s screen: DARPA offering $ for interstellar travel
Hoshiko typed back: interstellar! url?
Abe pasted: http://www.technewsworld.com/story/DARPAs-Long-Term-Long-Shot-to-the-Stars-73118.html into the instant message box and hit “Send.”
Hoshiko double-clicked on the URL and the web page opened:
SPACE
DARPA’s Long-Term Long Shot to the Stars
By Richard Adhikari
TechNewsWorld
08/22/11 6:00 AM PT
DARPA wants to hear serious plans for reaching the stars. The research organization is preparing to give a $500,000 grant to the person or group with the best plan for developing a way to send a living human to another star system sometime in the next 100 years. Such a plan would require no small amount of imagination — the perils of space are many, and the journey itself could take centuries.
Hoshiko quickly scanned her screen and clucked her tongue at the news there.
Hoshiko Fujimoto and Abraham Lowenstein had been business partners for the last eight years. They founded and ran JexMate, the video gaming company. They had profited sufficiently that they could retire today; she only 25 and he 28. Abe and Hoshiko and all of their employees worked from wherever they lived; Los Angeles, Tokyo, Kansas, Estonia, London, etc. A few just wandered; couch-surfing, hooking up, and aimless. Abe had a small townhouse in Portland, Oregon, and Hoshiko had an apartment in Encinitas, California.
Hoshiko typed: shit i’ve been engineering jexmate starships for years. how hard could it be to do it for fucking real?
Abe: i think they want real calculations for real ships
Hoshiko: screw you – i worked hard getting the #s right – show me a phd who could do better
Abe: & real rocket engines
Hoshiko: ok – so i fudge a little on specific impulse but reduced weights would compensate
Abe: how big a fudge factor?
Hoshiko: 5-ish
Abe: hmm, close enough maybe. r u ready to offload JexMate & work with adults for a change – you & me?
Hoshiko: you really think i’d want to quit my job nursemaiding snot-nosed brainiac wannabees living on futons in their mothers garage?
(pause)
Hoshiko: i just outlined our proposal to darpa. wtf have you done in the last 30 seconds?
Monday 19 September 2011
The working name for their project went through several iterations before they agreed on ISTRI, the Inter-Stellar Travel Research Institute. What began as an escape from a former lifestyle for two young entrepreneurs would develop, they hoped, into a means for mankind to escape its Earthly cradle … and make money in the process.
They managed to arrange a business meeting with Tom Pierson and Jill Tarter of the SETI Institute in the hopes they would agree to lend the imprimatur of the Institute to the ISTRI project. Besides, Dr. Tarter had published several research papers on the selection of star systems that just might have habitable planets in orbit.
For the meeting, Hoshiko and Abe decided it was important to visit the SETI Institute together. That meant breaking a precedent and finally confronting each other in person for the first time rather than just Skyping. They had joked numerous times that their great business “luck” depended on their never having met in person. But joking or not, both admitted to feeling a bit superstitious about their upcoming rendezvous.
The face-to-face occasion was arranged for breakfast at The Urban Tavern in the San Francisco Hilton. Hoshiko arrived in an all-black outfit; pointed high heels, slacks, V-neck blouse, and a knee-length cape. Even her wristwatch band was black. The all-black theme was nicely set off by her red lipstick and fingernails. She looked around for Abe who would be wearing one of their larger JexMate pins that they gave out at gamer conventions. Failing to spot him, she let the maître d’ lead her to a booth. As they walked past a multicolored metal horse on exhibit in the restaurant, Hoshiko had to smile at the quirkiness of the sculpture. In some metaphysical manner it fit neatly into the quirky unreal situation in which she now found herself.
Settling into the booth in the bustling restaurant with more wood than a modest-sized forest, she wondered, perhaps even worried, about Abe’s appearance. Maybe he hadn’t taken a bath, shaven, or had a haircut since they last Skyped. He might fit the grungy image of the prototypical gamer – an image that frequently bordered on truth.
As Abe rode the elevator down from his 11th-floor room in the Hilton, he mulled over a list of his concerns about Hoshiko. If she acted flirtatious in person, that would surely hinder him from concentrating on work. ¿Was she capable of acting politely? She was almost continually discourteous and downright crude online, and that would not go over well during their upcoming SETI meeting. For this project to succeed, they both needed to demonstrate solid social and diplomatic skills; skills he knew in an academic sense. He had Googled “etiquette” and “tips for salesmen” last night before turning in.
Hoshiko exhaled in relief when she saw Abe walking in wearing the identifying JexMate button on his stylish shirt. Abe appeared reasonably well groomed and neatly but casually dressed. She stood, extended her hand, and addressed him, “Dr. Livingston, I presume?”
Abe accepted the hand and consciously modulated the strength of his grip as he had read about the night before – not crushing yet firm. “Hoshiko. What a clever disguise. No one would suspect that you are The Dragon Lady.”
“Let me guess,” she replied icily as she let go his hand. “You concluded that ‘Hoshiko Fujimoto’ is a Chinese name. Well I must confess that I’ve also erred; I expected you would be wearing a yarmulke with a propeller.”
Abe erupted into an appreciative laugh. “That’s good. I like that.”
Hoshiko smiled – sincerely. Both enjoyed the breakfast in spite of their repeated digs at each other.
Hoshiko and Abe arrived a few minutes early at the SETI Institute, and were led to a plain conference room that was barely large enough to hold its oversized faux-wood table. With the help of a friendly staff person, they set up Hoshiko’s laptop to use a projector. Then they nervously waited nearly 15 minutes past the meeting time before Tom Pierson and Jill Tarter joined the two young entrepreneurs.
“Before we begin,” said Tom Pierson, “you should know that since we agreed to schedule this meeting with you, we’ve heard from half a dozen others requesting exactly what you want; a stamp of approval for efforts to win the DARPA grant.”
“And,” Dr. Tarter added, “we’ve since decided that we are not really into evaluating or promoting inter-stellar travel.”
“But,” continued Tom, “we promised to meet with you and consider your request for a good word from us. We intend to stick to our promise. So, please show us what you’ve prepared.”
Hoshiko felt her confidence slip but tried not to show that as she stepped over to the screen. “Mr. Pierson, Dr. Tarter, in view of your change of stance on the DARPA grant we especially thank you for your time and consideration today.” Abe dimmed the lights and Hoshiko started the video production they spent so much time preparing.
As the animated scenes played, Hoshiko noticed that Tom pulled a memo pad from his shirt pocket, turned pages, briefly studied an entry, and placed the pad back in his pocket. He wasn’t really paying attention to the video.
The video ended and Hoshiko projected a spreadsheet of anticipated budgets onto the screen. As she began to explain the reasoning behind their budgetary allocations, Tom interrupted with, “I apologize for neglecting to look into your backgrounds; I’ve been rather busy of late. ¿What experience have you two with managing budgets and the administration of an organization such as this?”
Abe answered, “Actually, we are the co-owners and directors of a software firm with a budget over thirty times greater than what DARPA is offering.”
Both Pierson and Tarter quickly glanced at Abe and Hoshiko; probably noting their young age.
Dr. Tarter said, “I do not see a budget line for a physicist, engineer, or astronomer – just a personnel budget for the two of you, for a skeleton support staff, and for a few unnamed advisors. ¿What formal education do the two of you bring to this venture?”
Abe answered, “I’ve completed a full set of courses to hone my skills both as an administrator and as a software designer.”
Hoshiko followed with, “My education has consisted mainly of courses in programming, administration, mathematics, and physics. This background has, among other things, allowed me to accurately evaluate computer simulations for interstellar colonization efforts.”
Dr. Tarter spoke up. “You’re telling us that neither of you has a college degree?”
“Ms. Fujimoto,” Tom Pierson said, “you say you’ve evaluated computer simulations of reaching and colonizing other star systems. I believe I would be familiar with such a simulation package, but I know of none.”
“It’s a series of modules that I programmed . . . myself,” Hoshiko admitted.
“But,” said Dr. Tarter, “you’ve admitted you have no formal training in engineering, let alone orbital dynamics.”
“I’ve studied on my own, Doctor, and it wouldn’t take me more than a few moments to connect to a JexMate server so I could show you how it works.”
Dr. Tarter took a deep breath and rose to her feet. “I wish there were more hours in the day, Ms. Fujimoto, Mr. Lowenstein, but Tom and I have other appointments to ….” Jill Tarter suddenly stopped in mid-sentence, turned, and locked eyes with Hoshiko.
“¿Did you say it was on a JexMate server?” Hoshiko nodded. “¿You programmed the interstellar travel and off-world colonizing for JexMate?” Hoshiko nodded again. In a convincingly accusatorial tone, “Hoshiko, you are personally responsible for keeping me up all hours of the night.” Then more softly, “I’m embarrassed to say but I am a Jexmate junkie.” Rather too loudly, she continued, “I’ve spent way too many hours tweaking trajectories, gravity assists, and refueling intercepts just trying to squeeze 100 more freaking kilometers per second out of that damn colony ship.”
Abe, Hoshiko, and even Tom Pierson, froze in wide-eyed disbelief. Dr. Tarter turned to the side, crossed her arms, and stared at the carpet. Five seconds of silence stretched to ten; then 15. Jill Tarter’s cataleptic pose melted all at once. She unfolded her arms, turned to the others, and announced, “I apologize that no one here took the time to Google your backgrounds; we’ve been awfully busy here. I do believe Tom and I could arrange to extend this interview a bit longer.”
The “interview” wound down a few minutes shy of midnight after a lovely dinner and two bottles of wine at the Kappo Nami Nami Japanese restaurant in Mountain View. The probability of ISTRI winning the DARPA grant improved greatly.
During the next four days, Hoshiko and Abe traveled around the entire Bay Area to meet with a physicist, an anthropologist, an orbital dynamics programmer, a materials engineer, and a fertility specialist with a lab at the U.C. San Francisco Medical Center. Tom Pierson and Dr. Tarter personally arranged for each of these meetings. The entire exhausting week felt to Hoshiko and Abe as though the SETI leaders had tossed the young duo into Class IV rapids, just to see if they could swim.