Rookie Privateer Page 3

  A small chirp indicated acknowledgment.

  Come-along tension to ten newts. Ten newtons would provide a small amount of resistance so I wouldn't have a rat's nest of cable unspool while I pulled on it.

  Three small chirps of acknowledgment sounded as the units responded.

  I grabbed the end of one of the cables and pulled, playing it out behind me as I jetted to the opposite side of the sled, then called to Nick and Jack, “Hey guys, grab the other two cables and drag them over.”

  After attaching the cables to the roof of the ore sled, I drove meter-long spikes into the floor of the cavern next to the sled's legs. I then ran a small length of cable through both the spike and each leg using a quick cable tie off. Ultimately, I wanted to keep the sled's legs from moving, while causing the sled to roll over and rest on its legs.

  With cables attached, I instructed, Come-alongs to twenty-five newtons. The cables retracted and pulled on the sled. It started to lift and then rotate around the anchored legs.

  The three of us scrambled to the top of the sled and inspected the damaged thrusters. Nick had already pronounced them ruined, but that was when we were in a hurry.

  After twenty minutes of flitting between the two top thrusters, I stopped and squared up with Nick. “Okay, I agree. Back thruster is shot, but I think I can get the front one running. They just aren't that complex. How about you grab some new b-ports and nickel linkage. I'll salvage out the back thruster.”

  We worked for a couple of hours, salvaging parts from the ruined aft thruster. We banged and bent the frame around the salvageable fore thruster and in the end, it looked pretty good.

  “Whew, it ain't pretty, but it might just work.” Nick stood back to admire our work.

  “Jack, jump in the cabin and give us 5% through the top fore thruster,” I requested after making some final adjustments.

  The sled, without so much as a clunk, fired up and a telltale blue pyramid glowed in the thruster.

  Nick slapped the back of my suit with his open hand. “Hoffen, you have to be the luckiest guy in these rocks. I wouldn't have bet anything we would get one of these going. It's gonna run like crap and you can't seal the cockpit, but at least you can limp home.”

  “Great. Dad said he wanted to talk tonight. I completely forgot.” I caught myself in a moment of self-pity and then straightened up, “Hey, you guys are great, sorry to be a downer. I couldn't have gotten it back up without you. Talk tomorrow?”

  Clearing the asteroid, I turned toward our family's claim. It would take longer than normal, but at least I had a ride. I watched the James' hauler slowly accelerate in nearly the opposite direction back to P-Zero and my mind turned to the conversation I did not want to have with my father.

  A BRIGHT FUTURE

  Mom and Dad were in the main room of our habitat when I arrived. It had been constructed on the largest asteroid in my dad's claim. Now in reality, it wasn't his claim. Dad was leasing it from the Geoffrey Bros Corporation. The claim had never been particularly high producing, but paid out enough for us to survive. Dad was an eternal optimist, always believing we would strike it rich with the next dig.

  Our reality was much different. We made just enough to eke out a fairly meager living. I think Big Pete was glad to be able to work for himself. I didn't hate every moment of it, but as far as I could see, it was a life without a future.

  It bothered me that Big Pete refused to see that even though we had a nice pile of iron out here, the expense to get it hauled to a supplier wasn't worth the effort. If forty-five metric tonnes of iron were sitting on Earth or Mars, it would be worth a small fortune, but out here, fees, taxes and transportation ate up 90% of that fortune. He worked six days a week, ten hours a day and expected me to do the same. In return for that, we had a four room habitat, food and atmosphere. I didn't think it was much of a life.

  Mom looked up from her reading panel. "Take off your suit, dear and grab a meal bar." Even though we were technically in L-1 space we generally didn't wear our suits. The habitat was inside a cavern and we had moved a large asteroid fifty meters off the opening so there was no direct line from space. It wasn't completely foolproof, but the risk was reasonable.

  I went into my room, which wasn't much bigger than the bed that occupied it, and allowed my suit to relax off of me. It had been a busy day so I chucked it and my suit-liner into the suit-freshener and pulled on my alternate liner.

  Before I could sit down with the meal bar I'd taken out of the cabinet on the wall, Dad opened with, "Now that you are done with school, we need to talk about getting after that new claim."

  I fell into a chair and expelled my breath in a sigh. Instead of responding, I extracted the meal bar from its recyclable wrapping.

  "Pete. Give him a chance to eat." Mom knew this wasn't a great conversation and even though I appreciated her saying something, it wouldn't do any good. Big Pete Hoffen didn't give up easily on anything. It was a great trait to have as a miner, but was also a reason why miners were generally loners.

  Before Dad could get going, Mom interjected again, "Liam, how did you do on your MCT today? I saw the report that said you passed. Have you seen your results?"

  Nick and I had been so busy, I'd completely forgotten about the test. Passing was essential since most jobs required at least that. Passing also meant I was now an EMC (Earth/Mars Citizen). I could legally enter into contracts, get sued, get married or anything else that indicated I was an adult. Since I was done with daily trips to school, Big Pete was ready for me get on with my life, beating rocks into submission.

  I stayed quiet, tossed the meal wrapper into the recycle bin and grabbed a clear tablet. The tablet recognized my swipe signature and other biometrics it read through my finger's touch. I had several outstanding comms from Nick, Tabby and other friends. Tabby had started a v-party (virtual party) and it looked like all of my classmates were online.

  "I'm gonna eat this in my room." I knew that not answering either of them would cause problems, but I didn't care at the moment.

  "Sit down Liam. You aren't going anywhere. We agreed to talk," Dad said, his voice raised.

  "Yeah, no shite, Dad. I'm not going anywhere." It just slipped out. I had never cussed at my Dad before. I didn't know if it was out of respect or fear, but probably both. His wording had struck such a raw nerve that I lashed out. I took the short steps into my room and closed the privacy screen. If there had been something to slam, I would have done that, too.

  I heard their voices – Dad was angry and Mom was trying to calm him down, but I just didn't care. I considered it a good sign that he didn't break my privacy screen. I wouldn't have been surprised and I was prepared to escalate.

  I put on a reading lens and flopped on the bed. Hot, angry tears trickled down my face. This had been building for a while. I could see myself living in this same tiny room twenty years from now, eating meal bars and hoping for a big strike. Feeling sorry for myself seemed to be an appropriate response.

  I brought up a list of comms. Several from Nick, an invite from Tabby to her v-party, and there, prominently at the top of the list was the M-Cor logo glowing brightly.

  No reason to wait, not like it mattered. Like Big Pete said, I wasn't going anywhere. I opened the MCT comm. A bald head appeared on my vid screen. I couldn't tell if the head belonged to a male or a female. Whoever it was, they were generally nice looking, if not a little disturbing in their lack of identifiable features. I had heard about this from other students. Apparently MCT didn't want to offend anyone, so they had a computer generated mix of races and both genders so everyone would find something to identify with. The face of MCT was everyone and no one.

  "Good evening, Mr. Hoffen. Congratulations on successfully completing the Mars Competency Test. Are you prepared to receive your scores?" The avatar's face was inscrutable. Although I understood I was talking to a higher level AI, I hadn't seen one that presented itself as a person.

  "Yes." I decided to keep it short. I was a l
ittle intimidated to be talking to a representative of such a large corporation, even if it was an AI.

  The AI's lips turned up into a small smile. "Very well, Liam. Do you mind if I call you Liam?"

  What a weird conversation with an AI, but then this had been a great day for weird. "Sure, why not?" I replied a bit warily.

  "Thank you, Liam. My name is Astra and I represent the Mars Colony Corporation. I would like to share your test results with you. We are pleased to inform you that you achieved a composite score of 93%. Would you like to review your subject matter scores?"

  "Uh, no, that's great. Err, well, could you send them to me?"

  "Yes Liam. These tests are part of your permanent record and are accessible via your Mars Colony Corporation account. You have the right to view them at any time. Are there any institutions you would like to send these results to? There is a special if you send to ten or more educational or vocational institutions."

  "No. End comm." I couldn't afford tuition at any of those places, much less the cost of the trip from Colony 40.

  I flipped over to Tabby's v-party and found the majority of my classmates chatting. My AI superimposed avatars representing each person in the party onto my reading lens. It did a nice job of representing individual postures and locations.

  I had never taken the time to customize my avatar like some of my friends, but across the virtual room I could see Nick dressed in a black tuxedo with a flamboyant red, black, and orange bow tie.

  He approached with a champagne glass in his hand. He must have been working on his avatar for some time to have so many customizations. His obvious good mood provided me with instant relief from my personal pity party.

  "Now we get on with our lives!" Nick exclaimed as he walked up to me.

  I smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. Nick knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. He would take over his mom's rental business and expand it. His skill as a mechanic and access to the necessary tools and equipment had set him up for a nice life. He wouldn't be rich but he would do well.

  I scanned the room for Tabby and caught her eye. Her voice was in my ear before the AI could transition her to walk up to us. That created an eerie effect as it seemed like she was communicating telepathically, when in reality she was most likely sitting in her room on P-Zero, talking into her own reading lens.

  "Are you happy with your test, Liam?" she asked softly. Tabby knew this was a touchy subject for me but coming from her, I didn't mind. She wasn't wearing her normal brown jumpsuit but was dressed in a dark blue uniform. Her gorgeous long hair had been reduced to a buzz cut and she had a beret on her head.

  "Uh, yeah, fine I guess. What the frak are you wearing?" I was completely distracted by her avatar's changes.

  "I've been accepted to the Naval Academy." The pride in her voice caused a lump in my throat.

  "Wow, that's great Tab." I had to work hard not to choke on the words. This meant a lot to her and I realized how much I didn't want her to leave. The three of us talked well into the night.

  I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew Mom was gently shaking me awake. "Time to get up, Liam. Your Dad wants to get out to O-92 early."

  I groaned sleepily, but my previous day's anger was gone. I had been mining most of my life and it wasn't lost on me that if we wanted to eat and breathe, the work had to be done.

  I changed into a fresh liner and pulled my vac-suit up. Ultimately, a suit was composed of a few different parts. A liner wasn't particularly required but it was the best way to keep things from getting stinky. The material was engineered to neutralize most things the human body produced other than actual waste. A person could live months with a liner and still not smell too bad. Mom insisted we clean our liners weekly. Whenever I would let mine go a second week, she had a sub-routine running that caught me and then she would gently remind me to deal with it.

  The main part of the suit was something like a baby's pajama that enclosed both the feet and hands with a hood hanging off the back. Small electrical currents stimulated nano-fibers in the material, making it extremely strong. When pulled up, the hoodie formed an air-tight seal with a transparent shield over the face. This level of suit was sufficient for traveling around in a space station and was designed for constant exposure to zero pressure environments. Underneath the vac-suit we wore a suit-liner that was cleaned regularly.

  The biggest issue we faced was running out of atmosphere. The reserves in the suit lasted about three hours, even though the suit was very good at reclaiming atmosphere. The oxygen found in body waste was easily converted to usable elements and the suits constantly checked for contact with oxygen sources which were plentiful on most ships and stations. Unfortunately, the cost of oxygen was well monitored and one of the major expenses of living.

  For a miner, the other parts of a suit were hardened boots and gloves, called AGBs or arc-jet boots and gloves. Stepping into the AGB boots caused them to join up with the suit. The AGB gloves slid over the vac-suit’s integrated gloves. Fuel cartridges for the AGBs were relatively inexpensive. There was even a spot for the oxygen crystal material that added several hours of reserve atmo.

  Small computer processors were salted throughout the material of the suit. A small chip had been implanted into the back of my neck allowing my AI to transfer to whatever suit I was wearing. The chip didn't interface with my body other than to upload itself into nearby processors so my AI could interact with the environment. Long gone were the days of individual computer chips being used for one single purpose. Computer processors shared information and the processing load so much that we simply didn't think about them as being interesting.

  A suit with boots and gloves could keep a miner warm, safe, and breathing for nearly a day. It wasn't uncommon to get knocked off an asteroid while mining, but arc-jets made it a simple matter to return to your original position.

  BIG PETE'S BIG HAUL

  "So after you told your Dad off, you guys just went back to work and didn't talk about it at all?" Tabby stared at me over the top of her untouched beer.

  "I didn't think anybody talked back to Big Pete and lived to tell the tale," Nick added dramatically.

  "I was pretty fired up. I think Mom probably said something to calm him down. I doubt we are done talking about it, though."

  I looked around Old Millie's tavern. It was nothing more than another room a dozen meters away from the James' rental business. No one knew how old Millie was, but for as long as I could remember she had owned this place and she was old.

  The tavern was the highest spot in the station and sat next to the dome so patrons could look out into space and think deep thoughts. It was considered L-1, even though it was technically two locks from space. An unimpeded view of space meant an object could crash through both the dome and Millie's front window. If you weren't wearing a suit, you would receive a fine from M-Cor, but it was okay to have your hood off and vac-suit gloves retracted. In a depressurization event, the suit's sleeves would seal and you'd have sufficient time to pull up your helmet and gloves.

  Nick shrugged. "Bad timing on his part to spring that on you the night you finished the MCT." He pushed my arm. "You never did answer me on how you did. Since they served you beer, apparently you passed, but how did you really do?"

  "Meh, it doesn't matter. I did okay but I am going to be a miner. Right?" I stared down at the metal table. "So when do you take off, Tabs?"

  "Just a little less than three weeks. And that was a bullshit answer." She stared at me hard.

  "What would you have me do? Hitchhike my way off of here?" I asked hotly.

  We stared at each other for better than a minute.

  Nick finally broke the silence, "So, does that mean you're getting a ride back on the M-Cor transport, Tabby?"

  The schedule of the Mars Colony Corporation, or M-Cor, freighters was well known and highly anticipated. We all waited for several months for supplies to be delivered. M-Cor freighters would pick up all of the r
efined ore in the form of ingots, which were destined for sale. It had been almost four months since the last freighter, and there were large piles of ingots at P-1.

  Conversation at the table stopped and the three of us listened to the music and experimented with our mugs of beer. While I didn't specifically dislike the drink, I wasn't sure what the big deal was. I did find myself becoming more relaxed as I quickly drained the mug. Within a few minutes of my empty mug hitting the table, our waitress asked if I needed a refill. I wasn't sure why I said yes, but it felt like the right thing to do.

  "You know Liam, the thing I don't get is why you let him push you around." In a million years I wouldn't have expected that from Tabby. We were friends, but she generally steered clear of family conflicts.

  "Say again?" I looked at her incredulously.

  "Okay, so maybe it's the beer speaking," she started out, although she was still only about a third into her mug. "But I bet anything you scored better than I did. You've always been ahead of all of us in math and spatial systems. You are a natural pilot, yet when you're faced with your future you just frakking roll over and play dead!"

  "Holy crap, Tabs. Tell us what you really think," Nick replied defensively for me.

  Tabby leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her beer. "Sorry, but it had to be said."

  I was completely caught off guard. Tabby and I verbally sparred all of the time - it was pretty much our thing. In a single sentence she had defended, attacked, complimented and challenged me. I was excited and upset and had no idea how to respond.

  So I said the only thing that made any sense to me, "I'm sure gonna miss you, Tabs." And I meant it.

  Nick and I spent Sunday working on my sled. One advantage to being a miner is that you work with a lot of equipment and used parts are easy to come by. James’ Rental had a considerable workshop where equipment was repaired. We had everything we needed and, with the help of our AIs, it was just a matter of work to get my sled back to better than it had been. Generally speaking, repairs never look like new, but then just about no piece of equipment in a colony does.