Earth and Mars line up for a cheap transfer about once every two years. Miss it and the hardware waits. Every rack Starmind will ever run has to leave on that schedule.
40.5°N, 172°W. Flat ground for radiator fields. Shallow ice for cooling loops. Inside the landing ellipse Starship was designed for.
Surface pressure is 0.6 kPa, under 1% of Earth's. Fans move almost nothing. From here on, every watt of waste heat leaves by radiation.
Each rack carries 64 GPUs and its own radiator panel. Panels point away from the sun and toward the cold sky, which is the only heat sink on the planet.
Mars gets 43% of Earth's sunlight, and global storms can cut that by 99% for weeks. Starmind watches optical depth and sheds load rack by rack, keeping memory warm until the sky clears.
Earth submits intent. Mars decides placement against live power, thermal, and hardware state. Nothing waits on a reply.
Every 26 months the farm grows by one Starship.
Starmind's production unit. Sixty-four racks sealed in a pressure vessel and buried in regolith — the planet itself is the shield and the thermal mass. A 30-meter mast lifts eight accordion radiator fins to face the cold sky, fed by a reactor pod 150 meters out. It lands folded inside Starship and deploys itself in nine moves. No crew.
An open experiment in orchestrating compute where latency is measured in minutes. The simulations below are running today. First Spire targets the 2028 window.
Independent project. Not affiliated with SpaceX or NASA.
One column runs 4,608 GPUs with no grid, no fiber, and no air worth the name. Scroll through every system that keeps it alive — from the regolith up.
The Spire lands folded, is towed to its pad, and plants itself. Legs swing down to level the column on uneven ground; helical anchors screw three meters into frozen regolith and never let go. No concrete, no cure time, no crew — the dirt it stands on is the foundation.
A 6.5-meter pressure vessel holds 64 radial racks — 4,608 GPUs breathing warm nitrogen at Earth pressure, so stock silicon never knows it left home. Cold plates on every board pull two megawatts of heat into the coolant loop the moment it appears. The vessel opens exactly once: never.
A blade circles the base and buries the vessel under a berm of regolith, capped with cast slabs. Meters of soil stop the cosmic rays that flip bits and age electronics — and the berm's thermal mass flattens the hundred-degree swing between noon and 3 a.m. into a gentle ripple.
On the fluid deck, redundant pumps drive a two-phase loop: liquid down to the cold plates, vapor up the four risers that climb the column into the fin manifolds. Either pump alone carries the full farm. Either half of the loop can be valved off, drained, and left for the next window.
Two nested sections telescope out of the fixed mast, lifting the radiator roots twelve meters above the dust that hugs the surface. Height is performance: a cleaner sky view for the fins, a longer horizon for the laser at the tip, and clearance for everything below to stay buried.
At 0.6 kilopascals, air carries nothing. Every watt the GPUs make must leave as light. Eight accordion fins unfold to 2,900 square meters of radiating skin — heat pipes every 40 centimeters, warm at the root, cold at the tip, facing the sky. The Spire is a radiator with a computer attached.
A buried reactor pod feeds the Spire through a covered cable — its darker, hotter fins run day and night, storm or clear. Rolled solar strips and batteries carry the essentials if the reactor ever safes itself. Dust storms dim the sun for weeks; they never dim the atom.
Light takes 3 to 22 minutes each way, so nothing here waits for permission. Earth uplinks intent through the gimballed laser terminal; the Spire's orchestrator places every job against live power, thermal, and hardware state — shedding, checkpointing, restoring. Alone, on purpose.
Spires tile a hexagonal grid — far enough apart that no fin warms another and no landing plume sandblasts a neighbor. Every 26-month window, another ring.
Press Initiate to watch Starmind build and run a GPU farm on Arcadia Planitia — you have the camera the whole time.
A real-time orchestration sandbox: land the ship, deploy the racks, ride out a dust storm, and watch Starmind shed and restore load on its own. You have the camera.
The Spire arrives folded: a 7.5-meter-wide, 18-meter column with everything packed inside its own envelope.
The Spire is Starmind's production unit: a buried compute vessel, a 30-meter telescoping mast, and eight accordion radiator fins spanning 23 meters tip to tip. Scrub the timeline to deploy it yourself — anchors, berm, reactor, fins, first light.