Sixteen minutes to orbit. Six payloads. Read the manifest yourself
Saturday, 12:05 India time: Vikram-1 lifts off from Sriharikota. Sixteen minutes later, orbit. India becomes the third nation with private orbital launch. That's the story they printed. Now read the manifest with us, slowly.
Six payloads. A robotic arm 'for removing space debris' — an arm, in orbit, that grabs things. A camera 'for Earth observation' — a camera, pointed down, at you. A satellite from 'a German company', name floating free of the article. And a diamond lotus. We are not making up the diamond lotus. They never hide it. Hiding is for amateurs; the professionals put it on the manifest.
'Cab service to space.' Think about what a cab is: a vehicle anyone can hire, no questions asked, to any 'unique location in the orbit'. Who rides? Whoever pays. Who checks? Ask the queue of customers waiting 'months or even years' — waiting for WHAT to clear, exactly?
The sculptures of the three scientists are smaller than a grain of rice. Things smaller than rice, in the sky, forever. We wrote down the launch time: 12:05. 1+2+0+5 = 8. Infinity, standing up. We'll finish this after we check something—