by Gary Weston
It took another forty minutes to unload all the pods. They did a complete system check then they both collected clothes, turned the controls off, and left the ship and got back in the buggy.
'Good job, Dillow,' said Scotty from his cab on high.
'Thanks, Scotty.'
Feeling pleased with herself, she drove the buggy back to Base Three.
Chapter 5
Most of the people on Mars got more than enough exercise just doing a twelve hour shift in a suit. Die hard fitness freaks still spent time in the small, but well equipped gymnasium. Fawn Dillow wouldn't have taken kindly to being called a freak and may well have hurled a dumbbell at anyone silly enough to do so.
'You're new,' said a man in a black singlet and shorts, a towel draped over his shoulders. 'I'm Garf Funkell.'
'Fawn Dillow. I flew in with Craggy.'
'Old Craggy? Still whining about having to take early retirement?'
'Just a bit. I think it's more the idea about spending his time on Earth. He's convinced they intend to send him back to live there. The idea of that scares the crap out of him and I think I'm with him on that one.'
Funkell did a few stretching exercises, then got in the wheel. Not unlike a man-sized hamster wheel, it was the most room conserving way for runners. 'Not another space junkie like Craggy, are you?'
'I can see the attraction. Floating along in your own little world. Are you here permanently?'
'Pretty much. My wife's here, too. She's a qualified botanist in the hydroponics section, so always useful in a place like this. She's just had our first baby. Shannon.'
'Lovely. So Shannon will be growing up on Mars?'
Funkell stepped off the wheel and wiped away his sweat. 'Like you said before. Earth is hardly a healthy environment these days. A few years from now, this will be sought after real estate. We'll be established by then.'
Dillow had done with the weights and sat up on the bench. 'Maybe I'll apply for a position here, after a few years.'
'There you go,' said Garf. 'We might end up neighbours. Well, I'll see you later.'
'See you around.'
As Dillow continued her workout, Cragg and Potts were having a beer. Cragg was starting to like it a little after not tasting it for months. It had a woody taste, and was sweet. They were leaning on the fence of the enclosure watching the healthy looking chickens scratching in the dirt. They had free reign of the compost heap, looking for worms.
'It seems a bit odd,' said Cragg, 'Only marsillium to take back.'
Potts replied, 'The whole lot of it destined for Earth. It's for the West. I hear rumours they've discovered it has uses as a power generator. Apparently, a little of it goes a very long way, but they're keeping a lid on it. Heaven forbid the East had any benefit from it.'
Cragg said, 'It must be something big to just take the marsillium and nothing else. Still, all the same to me,' then he added, 'Can't say I'm overly concerned.'
'I don't suppose it matters to you, Craggy. You must be feeling a bit strange knowing the next flight will be your last. As a captain, that is.'
'I might see if there are any little jobs going on the Moon. Just to keep busy.'
Pottsy chuckled. 'If they'd offered me the same deal they offered you, I wouldn't be looking so cheesed off about it.'
'That doesn't mean I get to stay on Moon. Everyone has to be gainfully employed there if they want to stay. They could always ship me back to Earth and I don't want that.'
'I'm sure something will turn up. I'm sorry I can't offer you something here, Craggy.'
Cragg slapped Potts on the back. 'This place is the future. Not for dried up old fossils like me. There I go again, feeling sorry for myself. Never mind me. But cheer me up with a decent drink.'
'Good idea, Craggy. '
Chapter 6
Unused to too much inactivity, Dillow volunteered for chicken duty. First she gathered the eggs, counting over ninety. With those safely stored away, she raked up the mess out of the coop and added that to the compost heap, turning it over thoroughly. Finally she fed the chickens and decided that was enough. After a meal, she helped herself to a beaker of wine and settled in the soak pool. Others came and went, all chatting in the friendly Base way. It was all either first names or nicknames.
Compared to Moon, the people seemed more fun loving and easy to get along with. The booze and smokes probably mellowed everyone's mood. The alcohol ban on Moon was rigorously enforced and the inhabitants never looked particularly happy. Moonitus some called it. Like everywhere else, it was a case of who you knew, not what you knew, which explained why Cragg was so popular.
Cragg had revealed to her that he was a fully paid up member of the moonshine brewers, and a scientist in the group had perfected distilling it to a lethal concentration if it were even sniffed. Being a freight hauler made him particularly useful in the black market trading. His good humour and natural affability, coupled with his ability to stay under the radar, had him slipping in and out of a shady side of life.
Dillow considered herself most fortunate. Few people had the choices she had. She could quit and return to the increasingly volatile Earth she hadn't set foot on since a small girl, now seemingly very unlikely. She could apply for a job on Moon. She could also do the same on Mars. But her lot for now seemed to be to spend up to four months in space between Moon and the Red Planet with a week of rest and recreation at the end of each trip.
She knew her father, the space security commander, would not have been too impressed if he saw his daughter drinking wine. She felt privileged Craggy had trusted her enough to confide his shady dealings to her. But she was a woman of thirty four. What she did was of no business of her father's. Unless he was going to arrest her. She smiled thinking that scenario wouldn't be entirely unlikely. Lance Dillow was of the “do it by the book”, brigade.
Chapter 7
The day before they were due to take off, Cragg and Dillow worked with Scotty to form the train with the ten freight pods. Each pod was numbered and the first to be connected to the ship was number one. It wedged in neatly between the ship thrusters, settling on the elevated cradle. The first six had been attached without a hitch, but the seventh refused to secure.
Cragg said, 'I don't think this is anything we can fix flicking a switch. Time to kick the tyres.'
'What?'
Cragg sighed. 'We gotta take a look. Come on.'
Dillow followed Craggy through the airlock, and they stepped out onto the soft iron oxide sand.
'Number seven wasn't it?' Cragg asked.
'Yes.'
They climbed up the steps to the single width catwalk and walked the eighty metres to the end of pod six. Scotty had the grabbers in place, not about to release them unless somebody told him to do so.
Scotty called out, 'Hey. Craggy. What's the problem?'
'Not sure. Just hold still.'
'Can you see anything, Craggy?' Dillow asked.
Cragg said, 'How familiar are you with what makes the pods work?'
'We spent a whole day on the pod coupling system. Two interlocking “V” sections, that both have to be fully engaged to lock in place at the top of each V.'
'Correct. Remember what the lock trigger is?'
'A compression trigger at the bottom of both V's. Both need to be perfectly aligned for the locks to engage.'
'Right. Can you see that top lock?'
'Yes. It's only partially engaged.'
Cragg said, 'Something is blocking the sections getting fully aligned and we need the pod off to see what that is. Just lifting up the pod will damage the partly engaged locks. Scotty. Dillow is going back in the ship to release the pod locks. We are going to inch up a bit at a time. Off you go, Dillow. Call me when you are ready.'
'On my way.'
Two minutes later, Cragg got the call. 'Pod locks disengaged.'
'Okay. Scotty. Up the tiniest bit.'
Scotty laughed. 'Up the tiniest bit? Is that technical lingo?'
'Just do it, Scotty.'
The pod lifter took the strain, in the upwards direction. Craggy was watching the top lock. If it hadn't disengaged properly, the pod being raised up would wreck the lock, making pod six and consequently its load worth millions of dollars impossible to be added to the freighter, so they would not be making it to Moon which meant the marsillium wouldn't get delivered to Earth. It was a tense moment and he could feel sweat beading on his upper lip. The lock was moving smoothly back. He hoped the lock on the bottom V, obscured by the bottom of the pods was doing the same.
'Up easy, Scotty.'
The pod was raised up and the locks eased away, unforced. Scotty was taking his time, knowing they were taking a calculated risk as the pod inched higher.
'Craggy?'
'Keep going up straight and slow. More. And...we're free. Good job, Scotty. Take the pod back so I can inspect the back of pod six. That'll do it.' Cragg checked the back of the pod. 'I see the problem.' From the bottom of the lower V section, he reached in and pulled something out. It was a rock the size of his fist. 'This is the culprit. It must have bounced up off the ground as the pod was brought over. Just one of those things. Dillow. Prepare to engage pod seven.'
'Got that.'
'Scotty. Bring her back over. Steady. Bring her down, nice and easy. Steady.' The V sections hit the bottoms of their mating parts and triggered the locks. 'Are we fully engaged, Dillow?'
'Everything green, Craggy.'
Cragg said, 'All clear with pod seven, Scotty. Grabbers off. Okay. Pod number eight.'
Cragg elected to stay outside to ensure the next three pods engaged and locked perfectly, which they did. 'Good job, people. Time for a beer.'
Scotty said, 'I'll get the lifter back in the hanger and I'll be right with you.'
Dillow drove her and Cragg back to Base Three and were de-suited and sipping beer by the time Scotty joined them.
'I need that,' said Scotty, taking a beer. 'Good thing you figured out the problem, Craggy. Cheers.'
Cragg shrugged. 'Something had to be jamming it. Not much else but sand and rocks out here.'
Dillow said, 'It could have caused a million dollar headache. I'd never have thought of it.'
'Experience,' said Cragg. 'Now you know it's something to look out for.'
Scotty said, 'It's the first time this has happened to me in three years of doing the job.'
Dillow said, 'I think it should be checked out before pods are linked up. It would only take a few minutes to do that. I'll write a report about the incident suggesting that all pod engagement systems are checked just prior to connection.'
'It wouldn't hurt,' said Scotty.
'I'll leave that with you,' said Cragg. 'I hate writing up reports.'
'No worries,' said Dillow. 'We've an early take off in the morning, so I'm off to bed.'
Cragg said, 'If I get wasted and oversleep, just take off without me.'
'You don't get off that easy. Be bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning.'
Cragg saluted. 'Aye, aye, Sir.'
'Goodnight.'
Scotty said when she had gone, 'I thought you were still the ship's captain on this flight?'
'So did I. I think it's a good thing, her taking the initiative. She needs that self assurance to do the job she has to do.'
'But what about the experience she needs to go with it? Where's that coming from?'
Craggy sighed. 'The school of hard knocks, I guess.'
'Scares the crap out of me, Craggy. A bunch of rookies hurtling around the solar system, no idea what they're doing.'
'Dillow has a good head on her shoulders. She'll be just fine.' He had a hard job convincing himself of that.
Chapter 8
At first light, Cragg and Dillow were suited up and ready for the buggy ride to the ship. Potts and Misty were up early to see them off.
'What's up?' said Cragg. 'You two couldn't sleep or something?'
'I couldn't sleep anyway, with your snoring,' said Misty, jabbing him in the ribs.
Dillow could tell from the look in Misty's and Cragg's eyes that they had something of an understanding.
Potts said, 'We couldn't let you go without saying goodbye, Craggy. We may never see you again.'
'Heck. That sounds a bit sombre. I'll be around for years, yet. Has the treasure chest been filled up?'
Dillow said, 'Treasure chest?'
Misty said, 'Don't get too excited. It's just token presents from people here to relatives and friends on Moon or Earth. Small Mars rocks with names carved on them, paintings using the different sand colours. It's worth nothing, but means everything. It's on the buggy.'
'Don't worry,' said Cragg. 'The exact weight has been factored in. Well, Pottsy. Misty. Time to go.'
'Oh,' said Misty. 'I nearly forgot. We made this card for you, signed by everybody. Wishing you a happy retirement. And engineering made you this belt buckle from pure marsillium.'
'Very flash,' said Craggy. 'Not damn radioactive is it? I might still want to father children.'
'Go on, Fawn,' said Misty. 'Take this old devil home.'
Craggy kissed Misty before putting his helmet on. 'If I do have kids, I'll send pictures.'
'Jeez,' said Dillow. 'Just weeks of this. Thanks for your hospitality. I'll see you in a few months time.'
Potts and Misty drove them in the buggy and helped get the chest into the airlock. Final hugs and handshakes and the Buggy was driven clear. On board, Cragg let Dillow do the entire take off procedure. Cragg was assessing her competency and was impressed with her faultless execution. The twin thrusters had to be realigned to balance the extra weight of the ten pods.
'Pods off the cradle,' said Dillow. 'Fine tuning for equilibrium. Ship to pod equilibrium obtained. Assent one hundred metres per minute. One kilometre above the surface. Quarter thrust engaged on three...two...one. Approaching outer atmosphere. One full orbit. Out of gravitational pull. Confirming computer coordinates. Coordinates confirmed. One half full thrust in one...two...three. Half thrust engaged. Three quarter thrust engaged in three...two ...one. Three quarter thrust engaged. Ship gravity one third Earth normal. Air quality good.'
Cragg removed his helmet as did Dillow. 'A perfect take off, Dillow. Nice job.'
'Thanks. Auto is set. Time to de-suit.'
'Sounds almost dirty when you say it.'
'You in your official blue underwear takes my mind right off anything dirty.'
'Have you seen my undies?'
'Unfortunately, yes. I'll take first shift.'
'See you in four hours for a feed,' said Cragg, taking off for his bunk.
Chapter 9
Cragg yawned and scratched his chin, contemplating shaving. 'Morning, evening, whatever the hell it is.'
'Not that it matters much, but good afternoon.'
'Any contact with Moon yet?' *
'No. Just static. The solar storms are still flaring up.'
'Any issues?'
Dillow shook her head. 'Everything steady. Humming along.'
'We'll do a full systems check later. Hungry?'
'I am.'
'Come on. I'll cook.'
Happy to leave the deck, Dillow followed Cragg into the galley kitchen, and sat at the two seat table, moulded into the floor and wall.
Cragg said, 'I snaffled a dozen of those eggs from the base. No bread for toast, of course.'
'I remember my father telling me about bread, when I was a girl. He made it sound wonderful.'
'You never had bread?' said Cragg, scrambling the eggs.
'No.'
'That is so sad,' said Cragg, putting a plate each on the table.
'That looks good.'
'I always add the salt and pepper as the eggs cook, not afterwards.'
'Delicious. Tell me about bread. What was it like?'
Cragg chewed his food, thinking back nearly forty years to the last time he ate bread. Some things are never forgotten. 'Well. For a start. Not all breads were the same. There were so
many varieties and flavours. Rye. Corn. And then there was hell of a difference between commercially produced and home made. My mother often made her own.'
Dillow was amazed. 'Your mother made bread?'
Cragg sat back in his chair. 'The smell. I tell you. If you weren't hungry, when you had the smell of the baking waft over you, you would soon be drooling. As a kid, if I went to touch the bread, she'd slap my hand. She would boil me an egg so the yellow would ooze out when I broke the shell. But the best part was when she got the bread knife and sliced off the crusty end bit. I can remember the sound of the bread knife cutting through the crust. Then she would spread a big dollop of butter...'
'Butter? You had butter?'
Cragg sighed. 'Yes. Creamy and yellow. And I would break little pieces off the buttered bread and dip into the runny yoke...' He smiled and his eyes glazed over as he was sitting in the kitchen with his mother, egg yoke running down his chin. 'It's a tragedy your generation missed out on simple pleasures like that.'
'I heard that it will take another twenty years for the soil to fully recover on Earth.'
Cragg gave her a look as he gathered the plates. 'You believe that, do you?' he said as he placed the plates and cutlery in the carboniser. The flash of intense heat reduced the food residue to a fine ash which was extracted away.
Dillow had heard the talk. The Earth was dying faster than it could ever recover. For years, what was now known as just the West and the East, had around three to four million people between them. Left to their own devices, ignored by their so called governments, some reverted to primitive, barbaric tribes, living off anything they could find. They were the forgotten people.
Pockets of land had been spared from the hydrogen wars but the intensity of farming was killing even that. Food distribution was strictly controlled. The black market flourished. People lived and died over the food wars. It had become a brutal and dangerous place to live.
'Craggy. You know stuff. What's really going on?'
