Irina stared out the window of the habitat, past the low domes of the other pods, past the towering crane-crafter printing out a new extension to the complex. She wished she could see across the Martian landscape to the edge of the basin where her swarm was supposed to be. She glanced for the thousandth time at her deskpad, but it read only “Status: Building,” as it had for the last week and a half. This was absurd. Her trip to the site at the edge of Chryse Planitia was supposed to be days underway by now, and here she was still waiting for the construction rover to get back. Or report failure. Or do something, but how could the swarmbots still
