Asteroid Appreciation Society

 

The Asteroid Appreciation Society

Jonno Virek had been hired for some truly daft jobs, but this one might top the lot. An entire cult dedicated to the worship of an asteroid, refusing to let a mining crew near it because they claimed the rock was divine.

The rock in question, a dull lump of carbon and ice, was about as spiritual as a stale biscuit. But try telling that to the fifty-odd true believers chanting at its base. They had roped it off with prayer flags and were reciting a lengthy hymn about “the blessed craters.”

Jonno drifted closer in his shuttle, listening with one ear as the site foreman pleaded over the comms. “We can’t get near it, mate. They won’t let us drill. And that mineral claim is worth half the colony’s budget!”

Of course. Half the colony’s budget, held hostage by a rock-worshipping choir. Jonno sighed. Beyond the Belt, this sort of thing passed for a Monday morning.

As he approached, one of the cult leaders waved a staff made from what looked suspiciously like a broken broom handle. “Stay back!” she cried. “You shall not desecrate the holy regolith!”

Jonno tried reasoning. “Listen, I respect your, er, enthusiasm, but the mine has a legal claim—”

“The asteroid chooses!” she shouted, eyes wild. “We are its humble instruments!”

Jonno rubbed his temples. “Of course you are.”

He tried a different tack. “How do you know it even wants your worship?”

The cultists fell silent. A priest in a dented helmet looked genuinely alarmed. “We... we never asked,” he confessed.

“Well, let’s ask, then,” Jonno suggested dryly. “Let’s let the asteroid decide.”

He flipped open his comms, broadcasting a polite, perfectly calm AI voice that he piped through a speaker bolted to the asteroid’s survey beacon. “Attention, faithful,” it intoned. “I, your asteroid, grant you permission to depart.”

The cultists gasped. One fainted clean away. Jonno had to work hard not to laugh. The rest, confused but obedient, began packing up their prayer flags, unsure whether to feel blessed or disappointed. Within an hour, the miners could move back in.

Jonno left the site with a faint grin. Sometimes the only way to deal with cosmic nonsense was to out-nonsense it.

Back aboard his shuttle, he allowed himself a peaceful moment with a proper, non-looping cup of tea. Out beyond the Belt, belief could be as strange as black holes — but at least it kept the jobs interesting.