My father, Gatfield Montgomery, finally agreed to let me present a bid for the translithium shipping contract with Prism. I’m on my way there aboard the Freedom, our FTL yacht. It will take three months to reach the prison planet, but rather than spend that time in cryo-sleep, I’m putting together a plan that the convicts won’t refuse.
There is very little information about life there, but I’ve been reading my mother’s journals from twenty-three years ago when she accompanied an archeological expedition in search of ancient alien artifacts. Nothing was found and there’s been no interest in exploiting anything on Prism except the translithium mine the prisoners discovered a year after the failed archeological dig. Translithium is Earth’s major source of energy, and control of the semi-annual shipments from Prism are awarded to the corporation that wins the shipping contract. If I can win the deal for Montgomery Conglomerates, I’ll earn my first billion before I’m twenty-five. But more important, I’ll earn my father’s respect and prove I’m ready for a larger role in the company than division head for fashion and entertainment.
From the stories my mother told me when I was young, Prism is a harsh world, but beautiful in a stark sense. She died last year so my uncle gave me her journals to read on this trip. So far, it seems like my mother loved the planet even though she found the living conditions harsh and far below the standards of her corporate-wife status. I’m sure much has changed.
One week to planet fall.