“We’ve grown used to the idea of space, and perhaps we forget that we’ve only just begun. We’re still pioneers.” – Ronald Regan, January 28, 1986

Jovian Calendar, Day 3,702/4,346
There’s something primal about the cold, something that conjures images of Terran cavemen huddled in wooly mammoth hides. That’s how I feel now wrapped inside my cocoon. Each prospector is issued one of these bulbous shelters, which is where I’m sitting now with Blizzard, my jiku, splayed across my legs. Jiku are bred here on Europa for the atmosphere and cold, and for sniffing out the ice.
The journey to New San Francisco was tedious and uneventful. Even with the new hyperengines the trip took nearly seven months. I sank almost all my savings into that ticket. The rest was used to purchase equipment—a CommSat, sled and exosuit—some of which was refurbished.
New San Fran is booming with the profits from the ice. In just a few years since the Ice Rush of 2372, the settlement has grown from a survey outpost to a thriving city. Some shop owners have their families here now. I even saw one husband-and-wife prospector team.
Flights to the outlying trading posts were available from the city. Gossip says that Sector-17 is very promising. I made about 8 kilometers from there today and hope to continue at about 20-25 kilometers a day. Blizzard hasn’t detected any isotopes in the ice yet; I suspect the prospectors that came before me already sifted what was to be had immediately outside these posts.

Day 3,703/4,346
My first full day on the ice was amazing. The white stretches away as far as the eye can see. There are mountains in the distance, but they only appear as white points against the black sky. It seems like everything here is reversed: white land, black sky. Sometimes Jupiter looms into view as Europa orbits her mother. The planet is so close I can almost touch it. We passed Jupiter’s famed red storm today. It was like looking into the giant eye of a Cyclops.
There is fortune and adventure to be had here. The view alone is worth having spent all my money. With the ice shelves nearly melted, there is nowhere left like this on Earth. As if a comparison can be made.

Day 3,704/4,346
Blizzard came across what we thought was a promising field today, but there were only a few grams of isotope-rich ice strewn on the surface. Collected what was there and moved on.
I have four storage cylinders on my sled. By my calculations, and at the current exchange rate, I can break even for the cost of this expedition if I return with them full. I’ll need to make at least two more survey trips after that to turn a profit.

Day 3,707/4,346
Had an interesting experience today, one that I have only now had the chance to relate. While normally the land here is very flat, Blizzard and I began to crest a large slope on day 3,706 of the cycle that we finally cleared this morning. Upon doing so, I spotted three sleds ringed together with a large cocoon at their center. It was other prospectors whose paths had crossed this day. The code among their kind is to stop and palaver. Lacking human companionship for nearly a week, I decided to join them.
The largest of the sleds belonged to a prospector on his way back to New San Francisco, name of Mitch Towson. Here is a man to emulate! Towson has been wildly successful with the ice and owns the most beautiful sled I have yet seen on this moon. It was like a chrome teardrop that reflected the ice like a mini supernova, one of the new models released just this year. His cocoon was the one at the center of the sleds, and it could fit at least six people comfortably.
The other prospectors, too, had seen their share of profit. Jeremiah Golden and Bill Uvalde were their names. Their sleds and my own were decidedly less impressive next to Towson’s, and both seemed surprised at my youth. I didn’t care for Jeremiah, who kept calling me “boy.”
Towson has a claim about 200 kilometers west of my current position. The claim – which is registered with the Europa Exchange Commission – is about 30 kilometers in diameter spreading from Towson’s survey beacon. The isotope concentration there, he said, is seemingly inexhaustible.
Neither Jeremiah nor Bill have registered claims. Like myself, they wander the ice in search of promising isotope fields. Bill is returning to the Sector-17 trading post to sell his ice and stock up for another expedition. Jeremiah is heading north.
In aid of my own pursuit, Towson, whose success seemed matched only by his congeniality, downloaded a new map onto my cheap CommSat. He also installed software to gather updates from the Exchange Commission. Apparently there are unclaimed ice fields farther west of the Towson claim that may prove promising. The trip is long, but I will continue in that direction.

Day 3,709/4,346
Changed the scrubbers on my exosuit for the first time today. What a fiasco! It’s not nearly as easy as it looks in immersion training. Had to make sure the cocoon was hermetically sealed, then had only six minutes to remove the suit and change the scrubbers before oxygen ran out. Did this three times before I got it right. I fancy myself an expert now and even had two minutes to spare on the third attempt—enough time to re-read the letter from my mother.
On another note, Blizzard was very agitated before we retired tonight. I suspect we may have had our first encounter with wild jiku. Some of the original specimens were released into the wild around, say, 2370. Now they roam the moon, feeding on prospectors and each other. This pack never came close enough to warrant countermeasures.

Day 3,712/4,346
One of the trailers on my sled broke today, and I was forced to make field repairs. This thing is a piece of fodder. Ugh, if only I could afford a sled like Towson’s. One day. One day…
Have nearly 80 kilometers to go before I am past the Towson claim. Information from my CommSat indicates a way station beyond that where I can have the sled repaired properly.
Have been collecting isotopes whenever Blizzard happens to sniff them out. Until two days ago, we had found only a few grams. Then we hit a large pocket in an unclaimed field. One of my cylinders is now full. If we are lucky enough to find more, I may not have to travel past the Towson claim before turning back.

Day 3,713/4,346
The thirteenth day of the cycle proved very unlucky. As I write this, Blizzard and I are seeking shelter from a massive storm. The heaters on my sled are working at full capacity to ensure we don’t get buried. Since I am “housebound,” as it were, I will explain how they work.
A series of linked heaters are placed around the campsite that melts the snow before we are buried. The trouble lies in keeping the heaters running long enough to outlast the storm. The solar cells were about half stocked before that. If they should run out, we’ll have only the plasma batteries to fall back on.
For the first time I am wondering why I am out here. I remind myself not to despair whenever a difficulty arises. Perhaps reports of the ice rush were more exaggerated than I was led to believe.
I anticipate it will be very cold tonight. Though my exosuit heater runs on an independent energy system, I dare not overtax it. This suit is my last resort in all circumstances.

Day 3,714/4,346
Plasma batteries down by one quarter, and I lost one heater when the storm cleared. The rest of the day was spent digging out the unprotected side of the sled. Made barely 5 kilometers today. My body aches.

Day 3,717/4,346
Made 20 kilometers today. Am happy, but broken trailer is showing signs of distress again. Am still likely 40-50 kilometers from way station.
Blizzard found another small patch of isotopes today. Second cylinder is now half full. My CommSat also says that I am nearly to the edge of the Towson claim. With only— [Note: Rest of entry lost]

Day 3,723/4,346
Have not had time to write lately. Finally passed the Towson claim on day 3,721 and came across a huge patch of unclaimed isotopes. Towson would likely have expanded into this area after his next shipment, but I got to it first! Three cylinders full and should complete final sifting within two days.
Blizzard seems very happy with a job well done. He is more active when we retire to the cocoon at night. I suspect it has something to do with the jiku breeding. From what I can tell, the animals are compelled to seek the isotopes because it produces a kind of euphoric “high.” Even though we are running low on supplies I will treat him to a piece of salted ham this evening.

Day 3,726/4,346
[Note: This entry was pieced together from fragments found on the CommSat hard drive. Please excuse any omissions.]
Finished sifting toda–, but trailer … –ing signs of serious distress. CommSat indic– … –ay station is only 13 kilom– … west. …
Blizzar– … jiku attack. Nothing on the horizon.

Day 3,727/4,346
Am writing this while beset by a pack of wild jiku. Blizzard was taken. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. Blizzard...

Day 3,727/4,346 [Cont.]
Fear has given way to tedium. I can see the shadows of the jiku circling the camp. They’re like spilled paint on a clean canvas. Have taken countermeasures, and they dare not approach. The wild jiku are terrified by the sled heaters, whether by the noise or the intense heat I don’t know.
Writing seems to stave off the crippling anxiety. Am terribly lonely with Blizzard gone. I want to leave the cocoon but can’t. I want to go back to New San Francisco but can’t. Will use money from isotope sales to go home.

Day 3,727/4,346 [Cont.]
Batteries nearly depleted. Will try to make way station as soon as the pack moves off.

Day 3,729/4,346
Disaster! The way station is abandoned and there is no power left in the building’s energy cells. Broken trailer won’t withstand return trip. Will consider dumping ice to alleviate burden and return to trading post. Doing so, though, will leave me destitute. Haven’t slept in 26 hours. Must rest.

Day 3,730/4,346 [+ attached message]
Panic has lessened after sleep, though I have no delusions about the dire circumstances I have entered. Properly explored the way station today for anything salvageable. By tying the station batteries together, I was able to suck whatever juice the previous occupants and the cold had not managed to sap. Also found a modicum of food hidden in the warehouse.
There is metal aplenty, but without a cutting tool I am unable to fashion a replacement trailer for my sled. There is nothing of similar size and shape. All transmission equipment is gone, and my CommSat is not capable of sending or receiving messages this far afield.
Have composed a letter to my mother embedded with this entry. Miss her and Blizzard terribly. I want off of this rock.

Day 3,731/4,346
Another plan has occurred to me. At this writing, I will try to return to the Towson beacon in hopes of meeting Mitch or another prospector. Don’t know when he is scheduled to return or if any others will venture into his territory. Not sure if sled will make the distance, but have plenty of energy stored in my exosuit. Solar batteries at thirty-five percent charge. Wish I had those mammoth hides now.
[Note: Remainder of entries unsalvageable from CommSat hard drive.]

Instructor’s Commentary
This diary was found on day 4,002/4,346 of the Jovian Calendar of the Terran year 2380. Its writer, whose name has been withheld, was dead and preserved in the ice for nearly 200 days when the remains of his cocoon and sled were found by another prospector. We hope, as you prepare to embark on your journey on Europa, that it will provide insight about this moon’s deadly climate and serve as a warning that all prospectors should be properly equipped and prepared before venturing out on a survey mission. Though the Europa Exchange Commission will gladly notify next of kin in case of death, the government of Jupiter is not responsible for injuries or deaths incurred while prospecting for isotopes. Be sure to visit the Europa Exchange Commission website for a host of services, including claim registration and isotope price rates as regulated by the Interplanetary Stock Exchange.
This completes your Europa immersion training. Thank you again for visiting.
-Aiken Green, president Europa Exchange Commission

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