by F. E. Arliss
It turned out that the group had simply followed the tall guy in front. He hadn’t really known where he was going or how to read a map that well. Or, at least, that was what Daer was told by the short roly-poly man who was her bunk-mate in the bottom bunk. His name was Tim Caan and Daer hoped like hell she didn’t call him Tin Can accidentally. He had short sandy-blonde hair cut in a buzz and blue twinkly eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He looked like a cherub. His personality seemed to match.
The tall, non-map reading guy was named Shawn Lawrence. He seemed to think that because he was tall and male, he was in charge. Daer simply tuned him out and did her own thing. When he told her to fall in line for dinner, she just ignored him and went her own way. Once again, she was at the canteen long before the rest of her group. Tim had followed her, so the two of them already had their food and were eating before the rest of the group arrived. Daer saw a black look ghost over the tall man’s face as he saw them eating as he came through the door. Well, maybe the dumbass would learn to read a map now, Daer thought to herself. Tim simply grinned at her, a twinkle in his eyes.
About half an hour into the meal period, a slender woman with pale-red hair, asked for their attention. “I’m Cindy Kapour. I will be this group’s director for the next few weeks. I’m told that my assistant director will be one of the new recruits,” she added, clearly searching for a name on her tablet. Shawn Lawrence sent Daer a triumphant look, Daer rolled her eyes in return, causing him to scowl at her.
“Ah, yes, here it is. Daer Null, you are my assistant director. Please stay after the meal and discuss the coming weeks’ work with me. That’s all for now. Please get your orders for the day’s work tomorrow from Daer after breakfast and report to your appropriate posts from there. Welcome to the dump,” she added with a smile.
After Tim departed back to their bunk, Cindy Kapour approached Daer with a smile. Shaking Daer’s hand, she said, “Welcome to the dump and thank you for aiding me with this new group. You are probably wondering how you were chosen for this assignment,” she continued.
“Not really,” Daer acknowledge, ruefully. “I suspect it was because I could read a map.”
Cindy burst out laughing, “Well, actually, yes there was that. Mining is a very schematic-heavy work. If a person can’t read schematics, it gets a bit hard to become a supervisor. So you passed that test with flying colors!” Sobering, she added, “It helped that you didn’t just blindly follow the others. Supervisors out here need to be free-thinkers. Things go wrong and we need people who can solve problems. That was the other thing that sealed the deal. Supervisor Ward was impressed.”
A few hours later, Daer had been briefed and had a fairly clear picture of the work for the coming week. Cindy had given her a tour of the facility and an overview of the machines and what the operators would be expected to do. Supervisor Ward made the schedules and revised them after viewing each day’s work. A work-optimization program would show him whether the new recruit had flourished at his assigned post or if it had seemed not to be a match. It was a good system, Daer had to admit. It helped people find their strengths. Flinging herself into the top bunk, Daer was immediately asleep.
The first week went about like she’d figured. Shawn Lawrence tried to be divisive and argued about his work progress reports. Some of the more malleable women and easily impressed men, backed him. It was clear to most of the new recruits though, that the man wasn’t overly smart and just assumed everyone else was inferior to him. It annoyed the majority of them.
He was one of those entitled people who had been born into a family that still thought tall, white guys were the cat’s meow. It was so milleniums past, Daer thought tiredly. The guy was a pain in the ass. It didn’t take long before Lawrence boiled over. Indignant at having been passed over as the assistant director, and enraged at being moved from post to post because of slow load times, he confronted Daer in the canteen on the last day of the week.
“Hey, Assistant Director,” he sneered. “I need a word with you.”
“Of course, Lawrence. How can I help you?” Daer replied evenly. She was keenly aware that Supervisor Ward had just entered the canteen with Director Kapour trailing him through the door. Lawrence couldn’t see them, as he stood aggressively-posturing in front of Daer.
Daer was the essence of politeness. She hadn’t managed a demanding nag of a mother-in-law for a decade without gaining a tight grip on her emotions. “Kill ‘em with kindness and class” had been her Great-Aunt June's’ slogan and it had saved her bacon repeatedly over the exhausting years of marriage to David.
“I want to know why you’re penalizing me. I know you don’t like me and this rotation of my work stations is just a way to get back at me for being the de-facto leader of this group,” he stated angrily. “Everyone knows you got this position because you’re a low-class woman from the midwest and the Guard is trying to push equality measures. That should have been done away with last century,” he added with a snarl.
“Mr. Lawrence,” Daer said, slowly, “the work schedules are set by a program that analyzes work performance. I have nothing to do with that. I don’t even have access to the program. The idea is to help you find the place where you are best suited. That place simply hasn’t been found yet. Please give the program time to help you find a place where you can be happy,” she added with an encouraging smile.
“You jumped up bitch, if it wasn’t for the rule against violence, I’d show you who was boss,” Lawrence snarled, almost turning purple with rage. “I’d be happy at any of the posts I’ve been given and I did good work. You ARE sabotaging me. I know it!”
“I’m not, Mr. Lawrence. Though I believe this behavior is indeed sabotaging your possibilities on this asteroid. No one likes a whiner, Mr. Lawrence. Many of your colleagues, including myself, have been moved from the posts they were at this week to encourage more optimal performance overall. I assure you that there is no need for anger. The program will find the best place for all of us in another week or so. Just give it time,” Daer said firmly. She used her Great-Aunt’s ‘no-nonsense’ voice on Lawrence.
It had some effect. He backed up a few feet, looking confused. Then dropping his arms to his side, he glanced around. Seeing that most of the room was entranced at the exchange and that many of them were looking at him pityingly, his ire was stoked once again. Stepping towards her, he ground out, “If you weren’t a woman, I’d beat the crap out of you.”
“I’m happy to meet you on the mat in the gym for a bout of hand-to-hand combat training if that will make you feel better, Mr. Lawrence,” Daer offered, tiring of his constant excuses. “I’m sure Supervisor Ward wouldn’t mind. Would you, Sir?” Daer asked over Shawn Lawrence’s left shoulder. “Shall we partake of a sporting match?”
Jerking in astonishment to look behind him, Shawn Lawrence’s mouth fell agape as he spotted both Supervisor Ward and Director Kapour watching the proceedings with interest.
“I’m happy to watch a hand-to-hand training session if it will help Mr. Lawrence feel less persecuted,” Supervisor Ward growled out. “I can also assure him that his change of station rotations have been at the program’s request, not any person’s request, as Assistant Director Null has already stated.
“What do you say, Shawn? Shall we take it to the mat and happily beat the crap out of each other?” Daer asked with a light laugh, attempting to break the tension. “I’m game if you are,” she added. “I like training in hand-to-hand; it really does get us ready for anything.”
Shawn Lawrence saw that he’d backed himself into a corner. He’d seen Daer Null train. She was good. Very good. He might be able to take her, as he had half a foot on her. She was fast though. Much faster than him, and she could possibly win. Now was not the time to get his own back. It could wait.
“I’m glad to hear you say it, Supervisor Ward. I have believed that Assistant Director Null held an odd prejudice against me. I believed she’d given herself the position she is cur
rently in, so it is a relief to hear you say that the program is still shuffling most of us about,” Lawrence said, ingratiatingly to the Supervisor’s set face, and throwing a smug glare at Daer.
That wasn’t what the Supervisor had said, Daer thought with an inaudible snort. He’d said some of them. Most of them were in positions that they’d excelled at. She was piloting a cargo hover-sled. Probably the most sought after job on the platform. It took a delicate hand and a firm resolve. Tipped one way or the other, a degree too much and the sled could slip the load. Coming into the docking chutes, too much throttle could damage the structure. Not everyone had the finesse for it. Certainly not Shawn Lawrence.
Turning and stalking out the door, Lawrence was trailed by his small posse of followers. Though several of them were looking more doubtful now than they had earlier. They’d wise up eventually, Daer figured, or not. Some people never learned.
Supervisor Ward strode forward and extending a hand to clasp hers, he said, “Well done, Assistant Director Null. You handled that problem very well. You will excel here on the dump if you continue with the work you’ve shown this week.” With that, he turned and left, chatting easily with Director Kapour at his side.
Chapter Six
Sitting Ducks
It was only a few weeks later when the first inkling of the current trouble with pirates visited itself on the dump. The farthest out asteroid in the jeweled belt sent out a distress call. “Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Gem 11, we are under attack by pirates. Please respond,” came the call over the comms unit for the entire belt. All control stations could hear the call. Daer heard it because she was in the Director’s office working on charts for the shifts. She and the Director were both riveted to the comms unit as the scenario played out.
“This is Chief Digger Cole of Asteroid Security, my squad is fold-jumping to your destination now. Please put all energies to your shield. We will be with you in minutes,” sounded the return comms from the Asteroid Admin Center on Gem 4, the largest rock in the belt and home to the Security Corp for the mining company.
The next few minutes seemed to take forever before further communications came through. Daer and Director Kapour hunched over their comm unit, all pretense of work forgotten. Supervisor Ward impatiently motioned them into his office and then barked at his startled assistant, “Shut this comm off to all units but mine. Then contact security and have them up the power to our shield for the next 6 hours.” He then slammed the door in her face.
The three of them settled down to listen as the events played out. It appeared to be pirates, but when a startled communication came down the line, it surprised all of them. “Chief Cole, this is Gem 11, Shaft One crew boss Tommy O’Shea. We have a breach in our energy field. They have concentrated fire in one sector where we had a fuse outage last shift and it blew again once they started targeting it. We’ve got a hole big enough for a small ship to breach!” The Shaft One crew boss sounded worried.
“Ah shit!” Then he shouted, “We have small cargo crafts converging on the dock. They are attempting to steal the ore off the hover-carriers.”
“Oh, geez, I can’t believe it! They are flying cargo haulers right up to the hover-carriers! They’ve dropped their cargo doors, and swallowed the carriers like they were eating them whole. It’s a tolerable good bit of piloting!” The shocked crew leader gasped into the comm. A moment later, aware that he had sounded somewhat admiring of the tactic in his last comm, he added, “Miserable curs are stealing our ore, Sir!”
“This is Chief Cole.” came Digger’s stern voice. “We see them. Fighters One and Three, target those cargo haulers’ engines. I want them out of order, pronto! Fighters Two, Four, Five and Six, with me. We need to take out the source ship. Break off and engage! Fighters Seven and Eight, keep those cargo haulers inside the shield. We want those loads!”
What seemed like an eternity later, it was over. Daer realized she’d been holding her breath and let it out slowly. Digger’s team had grounded the cargo haulers and the source ship was limping away. They would contact the Intergalactic Guard with the energy signature of the fleeing pirate and hopefully apprehend them. Two of the Belt’s fighters were trailing the runner to rendezvous with the Guard. The Guard would have to jump quickly or the fighters would have to turn back rather than risk running out of fuel.
They’d been attacked. The thieves had targeted the out-most asteroid, but it could easily have been them. Daer felt like a sitting duck on this huge plateau. Clearly, the pirates had had inside information. They’d known where to concentrate their fire to breach the shield. Someone was selling the miners out! As the asteroid that held the main storage depot and shipping hub for the ore collected from the other rocks, ‘the dump’ was a much coveted prize. What if this attack had simply been a test to see what sort of security they had?
Gloomily, Daer hoped Digger would have better luck getting the Guard to send them upgraded defenses now. After all, this ore went to making Government weapons and armor, and held untold possibilities for future applications. Daer heaved a sigh of relief that Digger was safe. Why she worried about the grump, she had no idea. Well, possibly because, grump or not, he was extremely attractive to her. She had to acknowledge that. Weird, but true.
Climbing the ladder to her bunk, it was all Daer could do to slump onto her side and get her head on her pillow. She was exhausted. Listening to a battle had been emotionally draining. Eight hours later she was awake again and washing up. Supervisor Ward had summoned her to a vid meeting with the Security staff. She supposed they’d find out more details on the attack and hopefully get some promise of better defenses.
Tabbing the entry comm to Supervisor Ward’s office, Daer awaited her entry summons, her mind fixed on what Digger’s night must have been like. She doubted he’d gotten any sleep. Sure enough, once they’d cued up the vid screen and begun the meeting, Daer could see that Digger looked exhausted. Dark circles bagged under his eyes and a thick beard, tinged with a hint of grey, cast a heavy shadow over his jaw.
The news was good, however. The Intergalactic Guard was sending reinforcements. There would be upgraded shields, a minefield that required a plotting course to navigate it, cannons and other armaments would also be mounted and dispersed. Daer was relieved. Now if the reinforcements would arrive before any further incursions!
Investigators would also be coming out and the Security team would be demanding their complete cooperation in order to find the mole that had leaked the fuse damage in the shield to the pirates.
Digger Cole would be on ‘the dump’ in a matter of days. Daer looked forward to seeing the grumpy Welshman. There was just something about him that drew her. She wasn’t sure what. While he was very taciturn, he was always polite to her and had absent-mindedly held the door for her at the canteen on Uzi. He was a gentleman. That was it. It was such a rare thing that Daer hadn’t even picked up on it. A grouch, but a gentleman. She liked the last part. So she was going to cut him some slack.
Chapter Seven
Weapons and Worry
The next week passed rapidly. Freighters carrying security crews dropped loads of armaments and the containers with explosives for the minefields. Daer was in constant demand as new schedules for weapons practice, security drills and coordination of housing for the security crews were constantly changing.
Daer had seen Digger at a meeting with Supervisor Ward and Director Kapour. He’d been very professional. Only after the meeting had adjourned, did he invite her for a drink in the canteen. She went happily. For once he seemed happy to see her and talked thoughtfully with her about the plans for the weapons upgrade and shared a few short details on Randy and Penni’s burgeoning romance. Daer didn’t tell him that she already knew. Penni was keeping her ‘in the loop’ and was quickly becoming head over heels for the lanky pilot. Once Daer had gotten Digger talking she wasn’t going to jinx it by being a ‘know it all’.
After half an hour, Digger excused himself to catch the freighter
to Gem 11 where most of the investigation into the mole was taking place. Glancing up to see a scowling Shawn Lawrence glaring at her, Daer ran after Digger’s disappearing form.
“Digger!” Daer yelled, causing him to stop abruptly in the middle of the corridor, almost causing a collision with a man walking behind him. Gasping, Daer skidded to a halt in front of him. Grasping his arm, she said, “I just thought of something important!”
Digger glanced at the foot traffic in the hall, then impatiently dragged Daer into the nearest private room. It was a tiny maintenance closet about 4 feet down the corridor. Shutting the door firmly behind them to keep out the noise, he said, “Ok, what!”
For a moment Daer, didn’t respond. He smelled of a spicy cologne and minerals. It was a strangely compelling scent. Coupled with the intense body heat he generated, she was having a hard time focusing on anything other than his firm lips, pressed now into a grim line.
“Daer!” Digger urged. “What did you think of?”
