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Authors: Gary Weston

Tags: #space adventure, #mars colonization

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BOOK: Last Flight For Craggy
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'I was
perfectly sober, if you don't mind.'

'Is that why
you danced naked on the tables?'

'Ignore him
Fawn,' said Misty.

'Just winding
you up,' admitted Cragg.

Misty got up
and whispered a few words in Cragg's ear which made him chuckle.
Then she kissed his cheek and squeezed his thigh.

'I have to go,
Tiger,' said Misty, a knowing look in her eyes. 'I'll see you
later.'

'Can't wait,'
said Cragg.

It was clear to
Dillow the two wrinklies were very good friends.

With Misty
gone, Cragg said, 'Drink up. I want to show you something.'

He led her out
to the central path that ran the full length of the Base, to a
steel stairway leading to an observation platform. The platform was
two metres wide, and had a panoramic window that wrapped around and
along the double shell of the Base for one hundred and fifty
metres.

'Now that is a
view,' said Cragg.

'It is pretty
awesome.'

'That's the
Mons, as we call it here. Fortunately its an extinct volcano,
because I wouldn't fancy our chances if it blew. We are actually
inside a massive crater. It provides some small protection from the
wind storms we get all the time. Take my advice. Look at the
outside from the inside. Don't get yourself lost in a storm.'

Dillow stared
out at the view. There were three major mining projects going on.
One was the deep mine. Moles, machines that tunnelled up to twenty
kilometres deep, were breaking up the minerals, and loaders were
scooping it up. They brought it to the auto sorters, that separated
loads into specific minerals, from there it went into fine
extraction machines, straight onto a continuous container train.
People constantly monitored the entire operation, keeping
everything moving around the clock.

Five kilometres
west of that was the water boring crew, locating new underground
lakes of water. They were drilling close to three kilometres deep.
Plugs of removed rock and sand were carefully sliced up into metre
length sections and identified, then taken for analysis.

To the east of
the mine, was the ground preparation for the new Base, number four.
That was to be twice the size of Base Three. They watched the
outside activity, then turned to look over the jungle.

'No birds,'
said Dillow.

'It was once
considered, especially for any endangered ones. They decided
against it due to the mess they could make of the base. Personally,
I think we should have suffered a little mess. So sadly no birds,
apart from those, of course.' In a clearing around the compost
area, several dozen free range chickens scratched around, pecking
at the worms. A couple of roosters ensured a healthy population of
chickens. 'Enough for a couple of eggs each per week. Eggs and the
occasional cooked chicken but that's a rare treat. The other
protein comes from the fish, same as on Moon. Unless you are
completely vegetarian, that is. Ever had chicken?'

'Never. I do
eat fish. And a little synthomeat. Not much.'

'That
synthomeat is nothing like the real thing. I think they make it
from essence of dodo.'

She could count
nine people doing various jobs around the jungle. Gathering fruit,
pruning, keeping the paths clear. 'A fair bit of activity going on
in here.'

'All
volunteers. They do jobs in their downtime. Therapeutic. And see?
At least four different ethnic backgrounds. Asians, westerners,
black, white, brown. Here we have something impossible on Earth. No
racial tension or friction here. Just people working and living
together.'

'Like how we
have it on Moon. It just shows that it can be done. But I think my
dad would have a fit if he saw all the marijuana growing going
on.'

'I told you,
already. Scientific research.'

'Yeah,
right.'

Cragg said,
'Look. Think of it this way. You read up on Earth history?'

'Only really
old stuff. Nothing much this century.'

'You're not
missing much, then. But before we plundered the planet into a
shadow of its former self, and I'm talking many centuries ago,
explorers would hack their way through the densest of jungles into
the most remote places and you know what they'd find?'

'Enlighten me,
O' wise one.'

'Primitive
tribes living happily, never having seen white people before. And
you know what they would do for kicks?'

'What?'

'Well, after a
hard days hunting and gathering, they would break out the drums and
nose flutes, and get high as kites on stuff fermented from some
bloody awful mess. They didn't fight each other or steal from one
another. They'd get down and party hard. Here it's the same thing.
Every time they go out to bust a gut working, never knowing if
they'll be alive at the end of the shift, they come in here and
relax a little with a few drinks. It keeps them sane.'

'I think I can
understand that. Having a few drinks and chatting with people last
night was nice. No harm done. Not sure my dad would agree,
though.'

'Probably not,'
agreed Cragg. Finding the rookie a less stuffy individual than her
on duty version, Cragg found her easier to chat to. 'A little slice
of heaven, this place,' he said.

'You'll miss
coming here.'

'Too right I
will. The last thing I want is to be booted back to Earth. I hate
what the Earth has come to now. It's a sick planet that fifteen
billion people fighting over every last dwindling resource finally
killed it. How many left? Two, three million? The East and West
still taking pot-shots at one another. And all those being ravished
by disease. Not to mention all those crazy laws. No way I want to
go back there.' He looked her in the eyes. 'Why do you think I've
kept working all these years?'

'A bigger
pension and benefits?'

He nodded.
'That's part of it. But the real reason is I don't want to end up
on Earth. Even the damn Moon is preferable to that place. Then
flying the freighters back and forth to Mars, is a few months when
I can listen to my music, paint my crappy pictures, and not give a
stuff about anyone else.'

'And then you
spend a few days here with Misty. Not a bad life, I suppose. No
family?'

A pained look
crossed his eyes. 'I still have a cousin somewhere on Earth, I
think. If he's still alive, I've no idea.'

'That is so
sad, but I do know what it's like, as do most people.'

Cragg shrugged.
'One thing most of us have in common. I'm used to being alone.'

'I'm lucky. At
least I have my dad.'

'Very lucky.
Come on. Scotty will be wanting to unload the pods.'

 

Chapter
4

 

Cragg and
Dillow had four Martian days before they had to take off back to
Moon with their payload. They had time to kick back and unwind, but
it wasn't all about fun. After a hearty breakfast they suited up
and borrowed a buggy to return to their ship.

Dillow was
aware that the suit was protecting her from instant death. The air
around her was almost pure carbon dioxide with three percent
nitrogen and a little argon. It was summer, so the temperature was
a warm thirty degrees Celsius near the equator where they were. She
didn't even want to think about the deadly temperatures of winter,
down as low as one-fifty below at the ice caps.

Much smaller
than Earth, Mars had days roughly the same as Earth, but the
Martian year was twice as long. Having lived all her life on Moon,
she was used to a lower gravitational pull. How people actually
managed to move on Earth was something she probably would never
have to experience.

Her feet were
often ankle deep in the reddish iron oxide sand, similar to walking
in the grey dust of Moon. It was a common hazard for anyone outside
the safety of Base Three, to suddenly sink into a small dust filled
crater. The unpredictable wind-storms constantly changed depths of
the sand to increase the hazards.

They had landed
inside the monstrous crater next to Olympus Mons, where a pod
lifter was already in position, the grabbers wrapped around the
anchor points of the fourth pod, the one at the end of the
train.

Scotty had
organised the removal of the delivered pods and would be loading
the cradle with the return load later. It was a slow and tedious
job that took time. Everything was too valuable to rush and risk
damage. Each pod was taken away by a pod carrier separately, to the
storage Base.

Dillow and
Cragg were going to take ten pods of raw materials back to Moon,
but had only delivered four pods to Mars. They were full of
essential equipment, spare parts and food supplies to add to what
the base couldn't yet grow themselves. It was a system of trade
that kept everyone busy. Cragg waved up to the cab of the
lifter.

Through the
helmet radio Cragg said, 'That you, Scotty?'

'The one and
only. You ready to go, Craggy?'

'Give us
five.'

Dillow was
already keying in the colour code of the freighter's airlock ramp
door and there was a hiss of the pneumatics as the ramp cracked
open and gently lowered. They went on board, and once the airlock
was closed back up, they removed their helmets. Cragg took a
back-seat, letting the rookie take control, him being there just to
advise if need be, and also to assess her performance on the job.
She had completed the compulsory one hundred hours training
moon-side coordinating with the pod lifters including thirty hours
of actually working the lifters, for a full appreciation of what
was involved.

She flicked
switches and the controls lit up. One bank of controls was
specifically for the pods. Pod one was always the one directly
attached to the ship, numbering out from that one. Dillow set the
release for the locks of pod four. The pod disengaged light came
on. Scotty saw the green release light go on on pod four.

The lifter took
the strain and the pod cracked free and the lifter eased it from
the securing mounts. Once clear, Scotty lowered it onto a pod
carrier that would take it to Base One for unloading, before
returning for another pod. The pod carrier securing mounts slid
into place and the carrier moved away with the precious cargo.

Scotty swung
the lifter back over pod three and the grabbers wrapped around the
anchor points. Dillow saw the lights for pod three come on. She
followed the same procedure as she had done with pod four, but this
time, instead of the green light coming on, the orange light
flashed. The release mechanisms had failed. Dillow closed down the
controls to pod three and repeated the sequence. Still the orange
light flashed.

'Craggy. What's
happening?'

'Not a lot, by
the look of it. This isn't your fault. This bucket has been in
service a few years too long. I've been in charge of her for the
best part of twenty years, and she wasn't new back then. Odd things
happen now and then. Close down the whole pod controls and
reboot.'

Dillow did
that, then went through the procedure again for pod three. This
time the green light came on.

'Thanks,
Craggy.'

'You're
welcome. Your ship will be newer, but they all have their
idiosyncrasies. Just part of the fun.'

It took another
forty minutes to unload all the pods. They did a complete system
check then they both collected clothes, turned the controls off,
and left the ship and got back in the buggy.

'Good job,
Dillow,' said Scotty from his cab on high.

'Thanks,
Scotty.'

Feeling pleased
with herself, she drove the buggy back to Base Three.

 

Chapter
5

 

Most of the
people on Mars got more than enough exercise just doing a twelve
hour shift in a suit. Die hard fitness freaks still spent time in
the small, but well equipped gymnasium. Fawn Dillow wouldn't have
taken kindly to being called a freak and may well have hurled a
dumbbell at anyone silly enough to do so.

'You're new,'
said a man in a black singlet and shorts, a towel draped over his
shoulders. 'I'm Garf Funkell.'

'Fawn Dillow. I
flew in with Craggy.'

'Old Craggy?
Still whining about having to take early retirement?'

'Just a bit. I
think it's more the idea about spending his time on Earth. He's
convinced they intend to send him back to live there. The idea of
that scares the crap out of him and I think I'm with him on that
one.'

Funkell did a
few stretching exercises, then got in the wheel. Not unlike a
man-sized hamster wheel, it was the most room conserving way for
runners. 'Not another space junkie like Craggy, are you?'

'I can see the
attraction. Floating along in your own little world. Are you here
permanently?'

'Pretty much.
My wife's here, too. She's a qualified botanist in the hydroponics
section, so always useful in a place like this. She's just had our
first baby. Shannon.'

'Lovely. So
Shannon will be growing up on Mars?'

Funkell stepped
off the wheel and wiped away his sweat. 'Like you said before.
Earth is hardly a healthy environment these days. A few years from
now, this will be sought after real estate. We'll be established by
then.'

Dillow had done
with the weights and sat up on the bench. 'Maybe I'll apply for a
position here, after a few years.'

'There you go,'
said Garf. 'We might end up neighbours. Well, I'll see you
later.'

'See you
around.'

As Dillow
continued her workout, Cragg and Potts were having a beer. Cragg
was starting to like it a little after not tasting it for months.
It had a woody taste, and was sweet. They were leaning on the fence
of the enclosure watching the healthy looking chickens scratching
in the dirt. They had free reign of the compost heap, looking for
worms.

BOOK: Last Flight For Craggy
11.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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