by Scott Moon
When they reached Billy, Shaunte yelled at her to join them.
“But I’m almost done!” she replied.
“We’re evacuating the mine. The Ungloks don’t think it is stable. We need to pull out and reassess,” Shaunte explained.
“But production…”
“Production will get rolling when we are sure it’s safe to work.”
Billy hesitated. She had heard those words before, but they were never followed by action. Production always came first. People were expendable.
“Give me one minute?” she asked. Shaunte watched the backs of the day and night crews as they continued uphill toward the mine entrance.
“One minute,” Shaunte declared. The sheriff stood, shifting his weight nervously as time crawled.
Billy’s hands moved in a blur before she wrapped tape around her last efforts. She jumped from the ladder and ran up the tunnel a few steps before stopping to throw the breaker. The lights blinked on in succession, lighting the way downward. The whine of the air handlers echoed through the empty space.
A low rumble started to shake the ground.
“Run!” the sheriff yelled, waving and propelling the two women before him. They quickly outran him as they weren’t carrying an injured person. Rocks started to break free from the sidewalls, falling to the tunnel floor and rolling downhill. Shaunte and Billy dodged them as they ran out the entrance.
Billy kept running, but Shaunte stopped and turned, removing her mask as she gulped for air. The thunder of a massive cave-in echoed out the tunnel mouth, sending a massive dust cloud spewing forth.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The sheriff ran into the Company Man and they both stumbled and fell. The sheriff hit the ground face first to keep the injured man from landing on the concrete. They both grunted in pain.
Extra hands appeared from nowhere and gently lifted the injured miner off Thad’s back. Long skinny hands reached under the sheriff’s shoulders and lifted him upright. Blood ran down his nose and into his mouth.
“Damn,” he grumbled as he tipped his head back.
The Ungloks each put their hands on the sheriff and together, they muttered the same phrases. When they finished, the others walked away, leaving Jotham along with the Company Man and the sheriff.
“What was that all about?” Thad asked.
“They say it is a great honor to lead a rescue.”
“I hear that’s what they say,” the sheriff replied, still having no idea what they were talking about.
“Whenever you go underground, we will go with you,” Jotham intoned, a hand over his heart.
“Even when you’re my deputy?”
“Hang on. There’s never been an alien deputy,” Shaunte interjected.
“On Ungwilook, we’re the aliens. We could not have saved those people without him. Everyone would have gotten trapped in there. I need him, and I know that I have the authority to hire any deputy I want. So I’m hiring him, if he’ll take the job.”
“They say that we shouldn’t need laws or enforcers,” Mast Jotham said.
The sheriff waited. “I’d like to say that it’s our job to make ourselves obsolete.”
“I’ve never been obsolete before. I’ll try it.”
“Welcome aboard, Deputy.”
Shaunte looked closely at the sheriff and the new deputy. She knew the sheriff was right. He could hire who he wanted. She wondered if they could pay the alien less while billing the Company for the full amount.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” The realization dawned on the sheriff. “You’re supposed to be watching my chair.”
***
The injured were taken to the small infirmary, where they were treated and released. Even the broken bones were set and the people sent away. They held one person back—the foreman. His concussion rendered him useless to care for himself. The nurse was put on overtime and the payment would come from the foreman’s salary.
It was how things worked in the frontier.
The sheriff and the Company Man were the last two to leave. It was past midnight and the two walked the empty streets of Darklanding on their way back to the Mother Lode. Her quarters were at the end of the hallway from his room. She had five times the space, but all the responsibility. He didn’t begrudge her that.
Dixie was sitting on the bar when they arrived. She glowered at the Company Man.
“I’ve been worried sick about you,” she said as she slid to the floor, making sure that her skirt caught on the countertop to expose her red silk thong. She brushed her skirt down with a demure, “Oh, my…”
“She was perfectly fine fighting the mine’s evil demons. But we had a good team, so she was safe. You needn’t have worried about her,” the sheriff said smoothly, not taking the madam’s bait.
Dixie grunted at him. The two excused themselves as they went to Shaunte’s office. She unlocked the door and he smiled when he saw his chair, right where he left it. She worked her way past it and flopped heavily into her chair. He dropped into his, having finally taken a load off his feet. His shoulders sagged as the sudden realization of how tired he was hit him.
“Nightcap?” she asked as she removed the liquor from her desk drawer. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any glasses, it appears.”
He stood to keep from falling asleep and held out his hand. She slapped the bottle into it. He unscrewed the top, sniffed it, and took a swig. He swallowed it and smacked his lips.
“Good stuff,” he said, handing the bottle back. She looked at the bottle in disgust before wiping the mouth of it with her sleeve, then a second time before she took a swig and coughed.
“If you don’t mind, it’s been a long day. I’ll take my chair and get out of your way.”
She didn’t say anything to stop him. She was tired too, but had a report to complete. Three dead, nearly a score injured, and the mine closed. It wasn’t going to be a fun night.
“Thanks for coming in after us. I’ve never heard of a Company Man taking a risk like that. I don’t have much experience, but it doesn’t seem like something you people would do,” he said over his shoulder as he nudged the door open with the toe of his dusty boot.
“You people?” she wondered, but he was already gone.
***
The new day brought a new series of challenges. Sheriff Thaddeus Fry now had a deputy and no office. He also had no way of contacting his deputy. He didn’t know anything about Darklanding besides there were three fewer people than when he arrived.
So much to learn, Thaddeus, he told himself. But I think there are some good people here. Tall and skinny, short and wide, we’re all the same. Just trying to do a little better today than yesterday, maybe even retire some day and start enjoying life.
The End of Episode 1.
Episode 2
Ike Shot the Sheriff
CHAPTER ONE: A Ship with No Name
Patrolling the dead of night meant silence, contemplation, and secrets—hard things for a man like Thaddeus Fry. Nothing moved but the blinking of communication tower lights on distant building tops. The only sounds came from climate control generators in the windows of the prefabricated housing blocks near the warehouses and mining transport hubs, or the spaceport where ships landed at all hours.
Thaddeus stood on the fringe of the spaceport with no intention of patrolling inside the perimeter. They had their own security and there was allegedly a company of space Marines there, although he’d never seen them. Didn’t want to. And if he did his job, wouldn’t need to.
Don’t think too much, Fry man. Just keep your eyes open. Finish the patrol. Go home and get some sleep. Instead of listening to his own advice, he knelt close to the enormous Darklanding dog—or whatever it was that had been following him around since he left the mining incident. The creature stayed just out of arm’s reach this time, pretending to ignore him. It was nearly hairless and had to weigh a couple hundred pounds. Maybe it was a Darklanding pig, but Thad didn’t care for pigs unless they’d
been made into a sandwich covered with cheese, mayonnaise, and tabasco sauce—minus the mayonnaise and tabasco sauce. Swine were dangerous. Gangsters used them to dispose of bodies, or so one of the movies he watched in transit to the Wilok System claimed.
“What do you think of this place?” Thad asked.
The creature looked at a spot on the ground for several moments.
Thad laughed. “Yeah. That seems about right.” He reached out and scratched the thing behind its ears, secretly hoping to learn by feel if it was a dog or a pig. For all he knew, it might be the King of Darklanding. “What’s your name, dog? King…William? Richard? Alfred? Tutankhamun? Charlemagne? That’s it, I could call you Charlie.”
The animal looked up, stared at him, then walked away.
“I’m going to take that as a no.”
A blocky ship, older but not ancient, descended carefully and hovered for several minutes before landing. Thad guessed it had a full load and Ungwilook wasn’t on the pilot’s normal route.
Watching ships come and go from Darklanding brought back memories of military efficiency and professionalism. Workers and machines normally began loading once the unloading was about ten percent complete. Interstellar corporations knew the expenses down to the minute and paid for quick results.
Thad squatted on the ridge above the spaceport, then took out his binoculars and gave the ship a closer look. Why? Because it was just sitting there with its lights on.
He searched for designation numbers and found them. Nothing about it looked suspicious except the minimal crew lighting and the complete lack of passengers or freight. A big ship, it was costing someone a fortune to sit there doing nothing.
An hour passed. Thad turned his back on the mystery and headed home to dream of troop transports and heavy machinery drops. Sleep would come. Sometimes it was a fight, but he’d slip into bed and be out sometime before the sun came up. The two-hundred-pound dog-pig followed at a distance.
CHAPTER TWO: Profit and Loss
Shaunte Plastes paced across her office, arms folded over her chest. She had only worn her service jumpsuit one other time, which had either been incredibly stupid or had saved her career. She still had dreams about the inside of the mines and the looks on workers’ faces as they came out smeared in dirt and relieved they were alive.
“Miss Plastes, are you there?” a voice said from the paper-thin computer screen facing the other direction.
She turned and scowled at the back of the screen, not wanting to face the company representative. Rather than answer, she moved around the desk, dragging her fingertips over its smooth wood surface and taking her time to stand where she could be seen by her conference call. The face staring at her was old and haggard but hid it well with the latest and greatest in anti-aging microsurgeries.
“Chairman Stoddard, have you ever ruled an entire world?” she asked.
One of his thick eyebrows raised significantly. “You mean a back-system frontier world with only one consumable resource that’s barely worth mining? No, I can’t say that I have.”
Shaunte wanted to argue the point about the value of her world’s resources but ignored his attempt to bait her. She stepped forward and leaned on the desk with both hands, bringing her face closer to the camera in the computer terminal. “I assure you, Chairman Stoddard, that I have complete control of this operation and this world. Not for the first time, I would like to ask the Board of Directors to consider a realistic budget. What looks good to you, in your artificial intelligence-generated financial analysis, does not work in reality.”
“Miss Plastes, we have spent more on our analysis than we have on you and your entire operation. The numbers we send you are nonnegotiable. You will meet the production guidelines or you will be replaced. I don’t care who your father is.”
Shaunte narrowed her gaze. Oh, I bet you do care, she thought. “How is Daddy? I miss him sooooo much.”
Stoddard flinched and drew back from the camera, unprepared for the childish endearment.
“We are very close. He taught me everything I know. Remember what happened to the last Board of Directors?”
“Miss Plastes, you are taking my words out of context. No matter what type of childhood you experienced with your father, who I must say is not exactly known for being a softhearted father of the year type, we have a business to run and that requires profit. Do not try to manipulate me again.”
It was worth a try, she thought.
“This disturbing report of mining collapses—which our best brains and AIs deem highly improbable—need go no further than my office. Don’t let it happen again. I don’t care what it takes, but you had better learn to take care of your operation. And one last thing, a word of friendly advice, the operation at Darklanding is too large for you to finance from your personal expenses. Never for one moment imagine that I don’t know what you’re doing.”
Shaunte opened her mouth to respond, but the screen was already blank.
CHAPTER THREE: Heavy Lifting
Thaddeus watched the sunrise. For a moment, Ungwilook was as beautiful as any other planet. Never mind that the titans of industry were ravaging the place for exotic minerals and exploiting both locals and migrant workers.
The empty lot between two large prefabricated buildings felt private. There was room for a company of soldiers to do calisthenics and stave off the weakening effect of this planet’s moderate gravity. Shared misery, esprit de corps, all those things shaped him into the man he was—good, bad, and ugly—depending on which of his ex-wives a person questioned.
He couldn’t help but think about the coquettish madam at the Mother Lode. “Don’t do it, Fry man. She’s trouble like all the rest.”
He needed to do more than stay in shape. His first day at Darklanding included a fight with one of the local Ungloks but also an alley brawl between two humans. “What do you think, Charlie?” he asked the dog-thing that lingered near him.
It stared, completely unmoved.
Thad pointed his thumbs at himself. “This guy is going to get in shape.”
No response.
“Well, at least I figured out your name.”
The dog-pig from Darklanding looked away, feelings hurt.
“I take that as a no,” Thad said.
The Mother Lode, arguably the finest saloon at the spaceport, was likely to be his permanent home. His predecessor had met an untimely end due to the excitability of mining explosives somehow left in or very near to the sheriff’s normal billet. Thaddeus needed to learn more about the man. It was likely that he inherited the same enemies.
Maybe he was wrong. Perhaps the former sheriff had competed with some local tough guys for Dixie’s affections. Maybe the locals craved law and justice and had just been waiting for the right man to deliver it. Maybe pigs flew on Ungwilook.
He was starting to wonder if remaining a soldier would have been safer. He knew better. It was time to get some exercise and not think about the campaign on Centauri Prime.
So what were his options? Jogging around the small vacant lot? Jumping jacks? Push-ups?
Those were all good things for soldiers, civilians, and lonely sheriffs without much back-up. He wasn’t going to have a sparring partner, so he needed to work on his mental grit. He’d seen people lose their edge and was determined not to be one of them.
The haze of industry around Darklanding bloomed into the morning sky like an expanding cloud of chemicals and dust. He toured his new workout venue and found something interesting. The northernmost of the two large buildings was a vehicle maintenance facility. Near its rear door were several things that might be of use to Thaddeus.
He paused to look at the back of the Mother Lode standing three stories high on the other side of the street on the other side of the lot. It was an easy reference point in this new place. He looked to the corner window that had to be the Company Man's suite. She wasn't there, which was a shame. It was probably a decent view of the town—such as it was.
A
part of his mind told him he should warm up before moving the heavy tractor tire, but the other part said he wouldn’t get to warm up before a fight. He squatted by the edge of the tire, hooked his hands underneath the knurled edges, and heaved with his legs. Keeping his back straight under this much weight was harder than he had expected.
Getting his shoulders under the tire was the tricky part. He slammed one knee into the tire to encourage its upward motion, then dropped into a lower stance to get his hands and shoulders under the blocky beast. On another planet, it might weigh eight or nine hundred pounds. He understood he was not moving the entire weight of the monstrosity, but it was still awkward and difficult to maneuver.
Up, up, and over before it slammed back down, sending a cloud of dust into the chill morning air.
He flipped the tractor tire nineteen times to get it to the other side of the lot. Hands on his hips, drawing deep breaths one after another, he decided it was time for a run. He set an easy pace. There hadn’t been an opportunity to exercise during his transport to the Wilok system. The run felt surprisingly good, and he spent a lot of time thinking about the Company Man, Dixie, and ex-wives. With his experience, he should know better. His romantic involvements became entanglements because Thaddeus Fry.
“It is what it is,” he told Charlie as he finished his workout. The pig-dog was sitting to the side, well away from the dust clouds the sheriff had kicked up. “This is why I can’t have anything nice, meet anyone nice.”
Thad squatted down and wiped his face and neck with a towel. Steam rose off his shoulders into the cold air. He spat on the ground as sweat dripped off his nose. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Mast approaching from the street.
The seven-and-a-half-foot tall alien stopped and looked over his shoulder, then made polite apologies to another pedestrian. “My excuses to you,” he said to a woman in the faded green jumpsuit of an agricultural hand.
