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Dust

Page 5

by Jason Hutt


  Two rundown Republic ore refineries flanked the pad, having been abandoned almost a lifetime ago. Any useful parts had long ago been stripped out of the structures with only the skeletal remnants of each refinery remaining. Nick, now dressed in a tan workman’s coverall, gestured to one of the dock workers to help him load another auger on the sled. His shoulders ached from the effort and the coveralls were chafing the inside of his thigh; he was ready to be done.

  “You go it, Nick?” Max asked.

  “Yeah,” Nick grunted, “Don’t worry about it. Take your break and I’ll finish this up.”

  The mining crew foreman, Jane, walked over to Max. Her long red hair spilled out from her helmet. Little could be made of her face as it was mostly covered in a respirator and goggles. Though the green of her eyes shone through the goggles and made Nick feel like she was looking directly into his soul.

  She extended a hand toward Max and he shook it firmly.

  “Good to see you, Jane,” Max said, adjusting his own respirator slightly. The wind was tolerable today, but there was still a good amount of sand blowing about. Nick loaded another auger while Max and Jane talked.

  “Likewise, Max,” Jane said, “How are you holding up?”

  “Same as always,” Max responded. It was the basic, everyday, rote conversation had by two people who crossed paths on a frequent basis. There was no real information passed between the two, just the customary exchange by two people stuck in a never ending grind. It was the kind of conversation Nick had heard his mother and father have a thousand or more times when his father would come home from a long day, exchange pleasantries with his mother, and then disappear into his home office for a few hours.

  “How’s the wife?” Nick heard Max ask.

  “Doing all right. Needs a vacation,” Jane said.

  “I’m with her on that one.”

  “How’s the ex?” Jane asked.

  “I’ll let you know the next time I talk to her,” Max responded, “How’s the mine doing?”

  “Busy,” Jane said, “Doc Sinclair has asked for a temporary bump in production.”

  Nick knew Max wasn’t really paying attention to him. He maneuvered the sled over to the lift that would carry both he and the sled, with its full load of augers, into the mining shaft. He stopped the cart a couple of inches from being fully on the platform.

  Nick commanded the lift to descend. The sled tipped and Nick jumped out of the way. The load of augers crashed heavily into the floor.

  “What the hell?” Max asked.

  Nick stopped the lift with the lift platform only a few feet below the surface of the landing pad. He looked around and could see that control panels on two of the augers had shattered.

  “Damn it, kid,” Max said as he crouched at the edge of the lift shaft, “You have got to be more careful.”

  Nick shrugged and said, “Sorry.”

  Max shook his head in frustration and wiped sweat from his forehead.

  “How many are broken?”

  Nick inspected the control panels.

  “Three,” he said.

  “I’ll have to dock you for that, Max,” Jane said as she came up behind Max.

  Max let out a long sigh.

  “This is coming out of your paycheck, kid. Now clean it up.”

  Nick nodded silently and went to work. He raised the lift back up to the platform and reloaded the augers. Half an hour later, he delivered the working units to the miners in the shaft below and then secured the sled back in the Hannah’s hold.

  “This is going to put us behind, Max,” Jane said, “Those replacements are sorely needed, especially at the pace we’ve been going lately.”

  “I know, Jane,” Max said, scratching the back of his head. She pulled up her sleeve to reveal the screen of her wrist computer. She tapped it twice and then Max’s computer beeped. Payment had been transferred, minus the cost of the broken augers.

  “You take care,” Max said. She nodded and they shook hands. Nick stood there for a moment while Max closed the cargo hold doors. The hold and all of its contents were now coated in a fine layer of sand. Max shook his head with an annoyed grimace on his face.

  “I’m sorry,” Nick said.

  “You damn well better be,” Max said, “Your carelessness just cost me money. Do a better job, Nick, or you’re done here. Got it?”

  Nick nodded.

  “Clean up all this sand,” Max said, “I want this hold spotless.”

  “Will do, boss,” Nick said.

  Max stared at him for a moment and then wearily made his way out of the cargo hold. Nick let a small smile crease his lips and then set about finding the vacuum.

  ***

  Two hours later as Dust’s sun began to settle in the east, the door to the Dry Dock was thrown open with a loud clank and in walked Max and Nick from the blustering wind and another late afternoon sandstorm. The two men patted themselves down, trying to remove as much of the grit as possible.

  “Why the hell isn’t this place connected directly to the subway?” Nick asked.

  Max gave him a wry smile.

  “Long story. Something about not wanting taxpayer money directed towards setting up a bar. I’d think given where you’re from, you’d have figured that one out.”

  Nick frowned.

  “Not sure what that’s got to do with anything,” he said.

  “Where do you think that piece of legislation originated?” Max asked as they settled in at a table near the bar. Charlie, Roman, and Zanth were already waiting for them. Without prompting, Myra brought over another couple mugs of beer. Max gave her a warm smile as he picked up the cold mug.

  “Had to be a reason behind it,” Nick said.

  “You’re probably too young to remember the scandal at the Besh colony,” Max said.

  “Doesn’t ring a bell,” Nick agreed.

  Charlie took a sip of his beer and leaned on to the table. “Bunch of bible beaters from Valhalla got wind of the millions of taxpayer dollars spent on helping establish a resort on Besh.”

  Max interjected, “Very wealthy bible beaters.”

  Max put emphasis on the term but Nick refused to be baited.

  “Yeah,” Charlie continued, “They had the right connections to push through some reform on how taxpayer funds could be used in the establishment of new colonies. They can be used for municipal buildings, living quarters, establishing an industrial base, but absolutely nothing that could be deemed morally objectionable.”

  Nick sipped his drink, the cool draft feeling especially refreshing after the difficult day.

  “Seems a little overzealous,” Nick responded. The other men gave him a smile.

  Roman raised his glass in toast and said, “Glad to see you’ve got a decent sense of reason, kid.”

  “You guys sure have a negative view of the Church,” Nick commented, taking another drink of his beer.

  “More like the Church has a negative view of us,” Roman commented.

  “Actually, I’d say the feeling’s mutual,” Charlie chimed in.

  “There’ve been a few folks come out this way, Nick, that tried to build up their congregation,” Max said, “With the past that most of the folks here have, they usually wind up condemning us to the hell we live in.”

  “I don’t see it. You guys are just a bunch of old softies,” Nick said, “Charlie, what’ve you got to hide?”

  “Myself mostly,” Charlie responded. The other men laughed knowingly.

  Roman answered for him. “Charlie here has three of the bitterest ex-wives you’ll ever meet. He only stopped at Dust because there was no place farther from Earth he could go.”

  Charlie nodded and said, “I’ll be paying alimony until I die.”

  “What about you, Roman?” Nick asked.

  Roman took a drink and looked down to the floor with a bit of regret.

  “I was a stupid kid, got involved with some stupid things.” Roman’s gaze was distant and the others around the table gre
w quiet. “Sometimes, kid, you do something bad enough and no one on Earth will hire you; you’ll have no way to make a living. Well, that doesn’t matter as much out here.”

  The table grew quiet for a moment and Nick was left to wonder what exactly Roman had done. Roman’s deeply-lined face reflected an expression of deep regret. His eyes looked momentarily hollow and glassy.

  “You guys should’ve seen this kid, yesterday,” Max said, breaking the silence, “Nearly pissed himself when he had to manually lower one of the landing pads. You should’ve seen the look on his face when I told him he had to crank it down by hand.”

  Max’s friends laughed and Nick responded with a tight-lipped smile. Nick was about to ask Zanth his story when the door to the Dry Dock clanged open.

  They all looked up as a short, fit, roughly thirty-year-old woman in a tan jumpsuit walked in. She took off her respirator and goggles to reveal blue eyes that complimented her jet black hair. Nick wouldn’t have called her drop dead gorgeous, but she was definitely striking. He looked back at his companions and noticed that all their faces had lit up a bit.

  “Hey fellas,” the woman called out to them, “Wow, look at this. Looks like the gang’s all here.”

  “How are you doing, Lonnie?” Max asked, “It’s been a while.”

  “Sure has, Max,” she responded and clapped him on the shoulder, “Doesn’t look like much has changed with you.”

  “Nah,” Max responded, “You?”

  “Can’t complain.”

  They nodded and laughed and Nick couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding on a reunion of old friends. Charlie and Roman moved aside a bit to give her room to pull in a chair while Myra brought over another mug without being asked. Lonnie thanked her with a nod and took a long drink.

  “How’s business, Lonnie?” Zanth asked.

  Lonnie nodded and Nick noted how her short, black ponytail bobbed slightly. He stared into his drink so he wouldn’t wind up staring at her.

  “Picking up at the moment,” she said, “Mr. Winters is back in town. It’s safari time again.”

  “Who’s Mr. Winters?” Nick asked.

  “Horace Winters, who does not like to be called Horace, is an obscenely rich man who likes to come to Dust to hunt some of the local wildlife,” Max answered.

  “Yep,” she said, focusing her vibrant blue eyes on Nick, “He gets a kick out of fighting the elements and the animals. Thinks the wind and sand makes it real sporty. I drop him in the foothills just beyond Bloom and he spends a few days pretending to be a cold-blooded killer.”

  “Sounds fun,” Nick said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

  “Who’re you?” Lonnie asked Nick, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “A misguided wanderer,” Charlie answered, “Thinks that spending time as Max’s co-pilot will let him find some meaning out here in the wilderness.”

  Lonnie laughed and looked at Nick with wide-eyed sorrow. “Sorry, Nick. I think you may have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Nick said, taking a sip of his beer.

  “After a few weeks with Max, your hair will turn gray, your knees will hurt, and you’ll be lamenting about how things used to be,” she said with a smile.

  “I am not that old,” Max said.

  Lonnie arched an eyebrow in his direction.

  “I am offended,” Max said with mock irritation.

  Charlie chuckled, Zanth ordered another round, and suddenly the stories of days gone by filled the conversation. Charlie told his tale of the failed coolant pump, Zanth told his story of the failed air scrubber, and Roman told the legend of his six days adrift with a failed reactor. Round and round they went, reminiscing about their travails until eventually Max came back to his story about Nick lowering the Hannah’s landing pad.

  “Scared shitless,” Max said, “That’s how I would’ve described your expression, kid.”

  Max’s words had started to slur a bit as Myra brought them all another round. Nick looked around the bar, anywhere but at the table. His jaw was clenched shut. Nick was about to call it a night and head back to the hotel when Lonnie’s wrist computer emitted a loud chime. She looked at it and frowned.

  “Crap,” she said. She took a last drink of her beer and stood up from the table.

  “Duty calls?” Charlie asked.

  “Something wrong?” Nick asked.

  “No,” Lonnie said with some annoyance, “Winters needs me to go pick him up. The old man probably just forgot something. I need to run out there. I’ll see you fellas tomorrow.”

  “Stay safe, Lonnie,” Max said. Charlie and Zanth gave her a wave as she headed away from the table. Nick seized the opportunity to make an exit.

  “Are you just headed out and back, Lonnie?” Nick asked, “Think I could tag along?”

  Nick blushed slightly as the conversation around the table grew quiet. He was well aware that all ears around him were listening as he asked the only attractive woman he’d seen in this town if he could follow along with her.

  “Whatsa matter kid?” Roman asked, “We’re not good enough company for you?”

  The other men snickered and Nick cast his eyes to the floor. Lonnie smacked Roman lightly on the back of the head.

  “You guys are nothing but a bunch of overgrown kids,” she said, “Sure, Nick. Come on.”

  Nick jumped up from his chair enthusiastically and then stopped momentarily as the room swayed around him. Charlie and Max laughed giddily at the eagerness Nick showed in following her.

  “Mister adventure,” Charlie said quietly.

  “Adventure, my ass,” Max responded.

  Nick ignored them and donned his respirator and goggles as Lonnie threw open the door. She stepped out into the bright evening sun and fairly tepid gusts of wind.

  “I don’t think adventure is what’s on his mind,” Roman said just at the edge of Nick’s hearing range. Nick shook his head and slammed the door shut. He let out a long sigh as he trudged through the sand toward the subway station.

  ***

  Nick sat in the passenger seat of Lonnie’s sleek, luxurious Vestara-class personal transport. Nick was more than a little surprised to see a Vestara out here. Next to the other scrap heaps on the Windy City Spaceport landing pads, it was a relative jewel in a junkyard. The brushed-silver exterior was smooth, with sweeping contours that arched across the vehicle from front to back.

  The interior was as plush and comfortable as the exterior was stylish. Nick practically melted into the seat as the red seat cushions welcomed him into the car with a soft, warm embrace. The Vestara’s interior was immaculately clean, a testament to how well Lonnie maintained the small spacecraft.

  The vehicle came to life with a soft whir, almost too faint to hear. Nick could tell that the pitch of the engine was an octave higher than was normal for a Vestara, likely because of the membranes that covered the air intakes and exhausts. Other than that, he might as well have been riding in one of the two Vestaras his father owned. He was surprised at how much heartache those memories caused.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and lost himself in the comforts of the vehicle.

  “You okay, kid?” Lonnie asked.

  Nick blushed. “Yeah, just brings back memories of home.”

  “Where’re you from?” She asked, “Not too many people would consider the Vestara to be a comfort of home.”

  “Valhalla,” Nick answered, staring out the front window. Just to their right, the sun touched the eastern horizon. “My father’s owned a Vestara for the last ten years. Although I have to admit, I don’t think he keeps his as clean as yours.”

  “Thanks,” Lonnie said. She commanded the vehicle to rendezvous with Winters’ bio chip and away they went, streaking across the arid, sand covered terrain.

  “I’m surprised to see one of these out here,” Nick said.

  “Well, my clients appreciate a certain level of luxury. I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors by flying around in an
old scrap heap. Appearances matter for some folks.”

  “Guess so,” Nick said, still a bit uncomfortable with what her so-called clients were doing out here. He knew he was going to invite more ridicule for this comment, but he couldn’t hold it in. “I thought hunting of indigenous animals was outlawed by the Republic?”

  Lonnie laughed, lines forming around her blue eyes.

  “Did you just fall out of orbit, kid? Do you really think anyone gives a damn about what happens out here?”

  “I guess not,” Nick said.

  “Nobody cares what happens out here, not the Conglomerate or the Republic. There’s no money to be made on Dust, so we might as well not exist,” Lonnie said, wiping a loose strand of hair from in front of her face.

  “But this is a Republic world,” Nick protested, “They wouldn’t just ignore what’s happening on one of their worlds.”

  Lonnie gave him a look that told him he was being absurd.

  “Have you seen our fat bastard of a governor?” Lonnie asked.

  Nick shook his head in the negative.

  “And you won’t, unless someone breaks his replicator and steals all his food. That man could care less about what happens around here. He’s just waiting to retire, assuming he doesn’t have a heart attack first,” Lonnie said, “I have plenty of wealthy clients, kid, who count on the Republic looking the other way here.

  “Hell, I’ve had high ranking people from the Conglomerate and the Republic out here for a little safari. Nothing gets an old man’s blood pumping like the chance to hunt down a few lesser creatures in the name of sport.”

  Nick looked away from her towards the almost fully set sun. The talk of corruption should not have been a surprise to him. Wherever there were men with money, there were other men willing to look the other way to get a bit of that money. So his father had taught him; so he was now finally learning for himself.

  “Why do this? Surely, there are other ways to make a living?”

  “Not on Dust,” she replied, “I’m not much of a miner or farmer. I don’t have the mind to be a doctor or researcher. I thought about teaching, but I don’t have the patience for other people’s kids. This has been working out pretty well for me. Pays well and lets me stay around my kids.”

 

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