Tumbler

by Brand Gamblin

  Libby shook her head, "No, I don't expect there is."

  Ira thumped the table, making everyone jump, "Good! Then get your suit on, and follow me."

  Libby looked around, confused, as everyone started going for their environment suits. She walked along behind the group as they left the shed, and walked over to their dig site. She frowned at them, wondering if they were really suggesting that they start digging then, right after dinner.

  Ira lead the way as they bounced past the dig site, over to the newly broken section of their rock. Above them, Libby could see the other half of their rock, floating in orbit with them. They all stood at the edge of the broken section, as Ira pointed, "There, you see how the crack in the rock has exposed all that ore? Well, we've got a direct line to a central vein for this rock." Libby nodded and with an experienced eye, started thinking about where she would dig. She smiled to herself as she saw little flaglights at each of the points she was imagining excavating.

  Ira turned to Libby, "So, you see how this could actually work out better for us? I think we've got a lot of precious metals in there, and it's practically laid bare, if we're careful about how we pull it out."

  She smiled up at him, "Yeah, I can see how that's going to work out for you guys. I think it's a great idea."

  Ira pointed upward at the other half of their rock, floating silently above them, "I expect you'll want to do the same thing with your half."

  The whole family turned to face her, beaming as she nodded and smiled back. Then it sunk in and she said, "Wait, what?"

  Ira pointed again, "That up there. Your rock. I was just saying that you'll probably want to do the same thing, digging from the location of impact."

  Libby frowned and pointed, "That's your rock. It's the other half of this one. It's . . . well, it's yours."

  Ira shook his head, "Not anymore." He cleared his throat, then said in an officious tone, "The family has set up a deal which allows us to mine that area up there with a caretaker in residence, who will recoup half of all profits until such time as the value of the rock, having been ascertained by disinterested third party, is reached. After such time, all profits will go to said caretaker-slash-owner."

  Libby kept scowling, "I - wait. I didn't get most of that."

  Ira shrugged, "You just bought that land, and you'll pay for it with profits you make on it. After you've paid it off, you'll own it free and clear."

  "Wait, no I didn't! And besides, why would you want to sell that land?"

  Minerva shrugged, "Dear, it's all the way over there. When it was right here, it wasn't so bad, but now we have to fly out there just to work the land. We wouldn't want all that traveling. Much easier to just get it off our hands. You will do that, won't you dear? You will take it off our hands."

  Dora and Howie said in unison, "Please?"

  Libby turned to Mike, "Help me out. You see how crazy this is, right?"

  He nodded, "I know just what you mean. I was the only one who voted against this. I think it's a terrible idea."

  "Thank you." She stood next to Mike and faced Ira with her arms crossed.

  Mike continued, "I told them, 'Give the rock to her outright, as payment for services rendered'."

  "Yes. Wait, what?" She spun around on him, "Services rendered?"

  "Sure. You did some basic excavating in our basement, nobody paid you for that. Then there was the taxi service, ferrying us back to town. Rental on that runabout . . . "

  "Wait, are you all nuts?"

  Mike pushed her away, "Get over it, Tumbler, you're more important to us than that rock."

  She stumbled away, then dropped to sit on the ground. She looked up at the rock. It would still mean starting all over, with less profit at first, but they all knew that rock would show color on the order of several times what they'd charge. With the profit from that rock, she could buy others, and maybe rebuild it all.

  Chapter 24

  Some nights later, after she was done with her record-keeping duties, she signed off from the network and flew back to the Davis claim. She grabbed up a shovel-headed pick, and headed back out to the new rock. She had already done the external analysis, and had marked out her spots to start digging. She had no idea when she'd see machinery available, but she was on the list, and she could still get prepared for that day.

  As she neared the rock, she noticed something odd. Around all the locations where she had left flaglights, there were now huge worklights set up, centered on her digging spots. She approached cautiously, and saw the huge yellow machines sitting on her rock, waiting. More than that, there were groups of men standing all around the sites, pointing and planning. Nearly a hundred workers were on-site, prepping for a number of simultaneous digs. Some men were standing near the closest of the dig locations, and she landed near them.

  Switching to the local radio station, she asked, "Excuse me, just what is going on?"

  The head of the group turned to face her, and she almost didn't recognize the man. There was a deep scar along Bronson's forehead that dipped toward one eyebrow, and he wore a patch over that eye. The strangest thing, though, was his smile. He said, "Morning, Tumbler. Got some digging equipment ready. Where do you want it?"

  She continued walking over to them, "I appreciate it, sir, but how can you spare them? The company needs all the equipment it can get, doesn't it?"

  He nodded, "Yeah, but the whole community needs the equipment, and the company knows that. I've been on the phone with corporate for the past few weeks, ever since the accident. They realize that, unless we get everybody up and running, it doesn't matter how much equipment we've got."

  He motioned for her to join them and she walked into the circle, where they had set up a map of her rock. Dig sites were marked out, and suggested machine locations were roughed in, "So the company asked me what they could do to build up the community, and I told them that the equipment would be more useful than money. They agreed to loan out all of our equipment, rather than just the one set that has been floating around all this time. So now there's multiple lists that people can sign up for."

  She pointed at the huge yellow slablike machines, "But that doesn't explain -"

  "Well that's simple. I put your name at the head of the list."

  She gaped at him, then found her voice, "But how did you get so many people?"

  A high, clear, refined voice sounded, "That was my doing."

  Libby looked across the map, and saw Alice Von Tromp behind the visor, "Alice?"

  Alice looked impassively at her, "Yes, my husband runs a small business nearby, and since we were currently overstaffed with no work for the men to do, we decided to employ them elsewhere, rather than lay them off. Bad for the community, and bad for business, once the gears start turning again. So I heard about your little endeavor, and I told Charles, that we should lease the workers out to you, at affordable rates of course."

  Libby nodded, shocked, "Of course."

  Alice looked away as though terribly bored with the whole discussion, "Then again, there's always the lifesaver discount to consider. That's got to factor into the rates."

  Bronson clapped Libby on the shoulder, "Now, are you ready to get to work?"

  ***

  Although it was kind of the company to loan out their equipment, and Ms. Von Tromp was as good as her word with the labor, Libby still had to jump through hoops to keep the whole thing organized. There were three different dig sites, all with equipment employed at different stages of the excavation. Libby was kept busy bouncing from one site to the other, organizing and overseeing every step as she worked each of the sites.

  The Davis family helped her every step of the way. Ira was an incredibly capable second, able to take over for Libby when she needed rest, and able to predict her answers when she wasn't there. Mike and Dora carried messages back and forth, and Dora showed a singular talent for managing small groups as the foreman. Even Howie was able to help out with a special vacuum that his parents had bought him, which allowe
d him to pick up spare rocks and dust from the dig sites. Collecting that extra rock made ore purification much easier. Minerva showed an exceptional gift for logistics regarding the workers. She managed catering for the workers, ensuring that food and water were available to all the workers at any time. She managed parking for the huge number of runabouts, she managed scheduling for all the workers, and she made sure that no one was overworking themselves. Minerva even started re-assigning people, so that those who worked at the same speed ended up working with each other.

  From close up, the whole thing seemed to run with the frenetic chaos of a circus. But from a distance, it progressed at such a definite and consistent pace, it looked more like a trained drill team. People from town would come out to watch the work. Some miners, jaded with the dozens of digs they'd been a part of, would still stand just outside the digs so they could watch this precision team work. Jimmy was one of the first to offer help, in the first few days of the dig. He was there longer, working harder, and always offering to help Libby with whatever she was doing. He had a lot going on in his new work, as the construction business was a full-time venture. Still, he always managed to find time to come out and help.

  After the first week of this frenetic activity, some of the onlookers ventured forward and asked if Libby needed some extra hands. After two weeks, most of the town was coming out to the Tumbler Digs to spend their spare time either watching it go, or giving a helping hand. It was a source of pride for most of the town, a symbol of the industry that had not been destroyed, and could not be destroyed as long as they worked together.

  One night, after the crews had gone home, and the Davis family dinner was over (mandatory, Libby couldn't believe they'd managed to slip that into her contract), Libby was outside, sitting on the edge of her biggest dig, legs dangling forty feet up from the cavern floor. One part of her mind was checking out details about it, areas where they needed to get more work done, points where they were going to need to adjust direction. But mostly she was just relishing in the fact that it was there at all.

  It seemed silly to be so happy about this. After all, this was the starting over, the backbreaking work of rebuilding her whole life. Yes, it was easier than last time, but how could she be so happy about rebuilding after such an incredible loss?

  As she looked out over it, she saw another form coming along the edge of the dig. As it got closer, Libby could see Jimmy walking along the edge, with his hands held behind him. He didn't seem to be in any particular hurry, and looked rather surprised when he saw Libby sitting there. He smiled at her.

  "Hey, Tumbler. What're you doing out here?"

  She shrugged, "I'm just . . ." she waved one hand at the expanse before her, "I don't know. Just looking."

  He nodded as he walked over beside her, "Yeah, it's pretty cool. I actually finished a while ago, but I figured I'd walk around for a while, look it over." They were both silent for a moment, as they stared out at the exactingly accurate hole carved out of the rock. He took a deep breath, and said, "You did something amazing here, kid."

  She shrugged, "I don't know about that. Most of what's going on here was other people."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Well, the first time I did this, it was all alone. This time . . . don't get me wrong, I'm happy and all that. It's just that I wanted to do it on my own again, and instead I've got all these people and easy access to the equipment, and -" Jimmy smacked the side of her helmet lightly, knocking her sideways, "Hey, what was that for?"

  He shook his head, grinning, "Dummy. Just shut up and be happy."

  She grinned, "I'm happy. I just wanted to do it myself."

  Jimmy groaned as he sat down next to her, "Tumbler, you did do it yourself. Just like you did last time. I don't know if you remember this, but you had help last time, too. Bronson loaned you the equipment two or three times, me and the guys threw in some overtime on your rock, you had plenty of help." He shrugged, "Okay, you didn't have as much help as you do now, but the only reason you got the extra help was because, in between excavations, you saved some people's lives. If that doesn't represent some kind of sacrifice, I don't know what does."

  She sneered a little at that, "I don't want to think of it like that. I didn't help anybody for that reason. You don't go around helping people, then holding your hand out for a tip."

  He barked a laugh, "It doesn't work like that, Tumbler. You help people, they help you. And if you go around helping people a lot, at a time when they didn't expect any help at all, you're likely to get a lot more help in return, whether you want it or not. Face it, Tumbler, you're never going to be able to do a dig all by yourself, with a little pick and shovel. You're part of a community now. Live with it."

  They sat quietly for a long time, Libby frowning into the darkness. All this time, she had been working toward her own goal, working to get her money so that she could go home in style. She wasn't sure how well that meshed with 'community'.

  ***

  The next day, as Libby was in the middle of a labor dispute between the processing crew and two of the extracting crews from different sites, Jimmy came bouncing up to her.

  "Hey, fellas, gimmie a sec. I gotta talk to Libby in her trailer."

  She frowned at him, "Is this really important?"

  He nodded and frowned back, "Come on. This is big."

  Libby followed him into the executive office trailer, and found a small man already seated in front of her desk. He had an open briefcase next to him, and was going through some paperwork. When he heard the door cycle, he stood up an walked over to her. He extended a hand. "Manuel LaJoie, attorney at law."

  Libby eyed him warily, trying hard not to judge the situation so soon. Who would want to sue her? Did the company want to argue the terms of loaning the equipment? She knew there was a lot of legal maneuvering going on in Blessed, as the community rebuilt itself. There was a courthouse now, and lawyers were flocking in to start dealing with new mining law. Libby tried to spend as little time as possible in that arena, though, as she was afraid it was a quick way to lose money.

  She took the hand and said, "Mr. LaJoie, please, have a seat."

  He smiled and said, "Thank you." He remained standing, "You are Ms. Elizabeth Carter, owner of plot #32-171846b?"

  Libby looked at Jimmy, then back at the lawyer, "I guess so. Is there something wrong?"

  "Not at all, miss. Now, as you know, the comet has put a huge strain on ownership, property, and probate. We're all scrambling to keep up these days." He referred to a folder he'd left on the desk.

  Libby nodded, "Yeah, I understand."

  He tapped a line on the page in the folder, "I see here, you are also the owner of the plot #10-932755d."

  Libby started walking around the desk, unconsciously putting distance between her and the news, "I don't know anything about that."

  He continued as though he hadn't heard her, "Land originally bought by S&V, traded serially to multiple new miners as they agreed to work for the land."

  Recognition dawned in Libby's eyes, and she grinned, "Tumbler. So, that's how they think of it, agreeing to work for the land?"

  He nodded, "Of course. Were you told something different?"

  Libby opened her mouth to respond, then shut it, "That's all ancient history. So what's up? Did they find my rock?"

  "No ma'am. I'm here on quite different business. Now, as I mentioned, our paperwork has been backed up for a while, so it's taken us a long time to get calibrated, as it were."

  Libby nodded again, "Okay. So, what's the news?"

  Mr. LaJoie reached into his briefcase, and pulled out a thin stack of bound papers, "Were you made aware previously of Mr. Smith's will?"

  Libby's brow furrowed as she shook her head, "I don't know any Mr. Smith."

  Mr. LaJoie tapped a line on the top of the page. "Mr. Woodrow Wilson Smith."

  Jimmy jumped in, "Libby, it's Woody."

  She nodded, "Oh, okay."

  The lawyer continued, "So, h
ave you ever seen his will, or been made aware of it's contents?"

  "No."

  "The will that he left behind was very brief, almost curt, and certainly derogatory to the legal profession. Nonetheless, in it's brevity, it is quite clear as to his instructions, and it remains legally airtight. You did not discuss it with him at any time, perhaps four months ago?"

  "No. What is this about?"

  "Miss Carter, you'll have to be patient with me. This is a very delicate issue, and Mr. Smith showed very little interest in it. Now, were you aware of the extent of Mr. Smith's property?"

  She frowned again, "I, uh. No. I mean, I saw his rock once, but only that one time, on the day of the comet. He never discussed it with me."

  Jimmy piped in again, "He never discussed it with anyone. Everybody thought he was flat busted, just barely able to make enough to cover his bar bill."

  The lawyer frowned at that, "Well, it turns out that Mr. Smith left behind a sizable claim. He was apparently one of the first miners to settle out here, and he found a very rich vein on his first try. Early estimates show its worth at approximately the same value as all the other registered claims combined."