24
Good News
Since they couldn't sleep with the Drogals wailing outside, they ate some of their rations, drank sankee, and talked. It was the first time since they'd met that they actually had some privacy and could talk freely. On base there were bugs and cameras everywhere, not to mention Videl's spies. It felt good sitting in front of a camp fire, spilling their guts without fear of discovery.
Peter looked at Sy. "So, what was it like growing up in Tributon?"
"It was hard due to the volcanoes. When my father was young, two of them erupted in Rigimol just to our northwest. My grandfather had been a very successful farmer before then and my dad inherited the farm. After the eruptions there was very little sun and the ground was so polluted nothing would grow. For a long time it was impossible to work outdoors due to the bad air. Dad had to take a job in the city just to keep food on the table. Since it was too far to commute, he stayed in a compartment during the week and came home at break."
"How often did he get a break?"
"Normally every eight days entitles a worker to a two day break."
"We call them weekends on Earth," Peter said.
"Weekends? Huh. . . . It was hard for my mother to have him away so much. She had to do everything herself pretty much—cooking, cleaning, laundry, plowing the pastures, entertaining us kids. My two sisters and I helped as much as we could. We'd go to school during the day and just as soon as we came home in the afternoon, we'd have chores to do. We didn't have much time to relax or play with our friends."
"Why would you plow the fields if they were contaminated and the air was so bad?" Peter asked.
"Central Authority required it. They gave us chemicals that were supposed to cleanse the soil. They had to be applied to the surface and then plowed in. The tractor my mother drove had a sealed cab with a filtration device so she’d have clean air. She still got sick, though, because she often had to leave the cab to remove obstructions or make repairs. They call it velvet lung. The pollution causes a velvet-like substance to form on the surface of the lungs. Over time the substance begins to inhibit the lung’s function causing breathing difficulties and making the lung susceptible to infection.”
“I can’t believe your mother had to plow the fields. Couldn’t you hire someone to do it?”
“No. We couldn’t afford help since we had no income other than minimal subsidies from the government for fuel and equipment upkeep. Sometimes she’d take me with her if she was sick or just wanted the company, but she’d never let me leave the cab."
"So, has the soil restoration worked?"
Sy shrugged. "We don't know yet. Until the air clears and the sun shines again, it doesn't really matter. Plants won't grow without sunshine even if the soil is fertile."
"Hmm. When do you think the air will clear?" Peter asked.
"It was promised to us long ago, but as you can see it hasn't happened. Some say in five or ten cycles, others say twenty-five to fifty."
"That stinks."
"Stinks?"
"Ah. You know, a rotten turn of events."
"Hmm. Yes, it definitely stinks. Hopefully during our lifetime we’ll see the sky back to normal."
"What did you do for fun when you were growing up?" Peter asked.
"My father and I used to go dickel hunting," Sy replied. "That was fun."
"What's a dickel?"
"It's a very tasty bird that crosses Tributon each fall during their annual migration to Ock Mezan. It’s one of the few birds that were hearty enough to thrive in the post volcanic era. Thousands would fly overhead and we'd pick them off with a birdblaster."
"A birdblaster. Huh. We have a gun on Earth that does the same thing. It's called a shotgun."
Sy nodded. "Of course, we played a lot of screen games and simulations too."
"What about sports?"
"Sports?"
"Games between people."
"You mean like close combat?"
"I guess. What's that?"
"It a game of fighting skills—boxing, wrestling, and kick boxing. I was on our school team. We went to the Tributon Nationals."
"It sounds a lot like the sports we had on Earth. My favorite sport was baseball."
"Baseball? What's that?"
"It's a game where a pitcher throws a hard ball in front of you and you try to hit it with a wooden stick. It's hard to explain. I'll show you how to play it someday."
"Great. It sounds like fun," Sy said.
"Unfortunately, I doubt we'll have much time for games anytime soon," Peter noted.
Sy nodded dejectedly. They were all exhausted and were relieved when the squawking finally stopped outside, so they could get some sleep. When Peter woke up six kyloons later it was dark outside. His companions were still sleeping, so he rekindled the fire and then woke them up. After they had eaten some rations, they gathered their gear together and began their trek up the mountain. Luckily the Drogals were nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, the three hikers kept a close eye out for them just in case.
By Peter's calculations it would take them two nights to get over the mountains and to Shaft 22, the mine closest to Pegaport. They would stay in the mine during the daylight and go in to extract Tam during the night. Once they found him they'd have to make it all the way back to Shaft 22 before the sun came up to avoid another encounter with the Drogals. That made it imperative that they get in and out of the training center without delay.
"They'll have no idea someone is coming for Tam. I bet we could just walk right in there and nobody would pay us any notice," Red said.
"I'm not so sure about that," Peter said. "The recruits will be segregated and closely watched. If we try to approach them, we'll be stopped."
"I wonder if Sgt. Baig has been able to get word to Tam that we're coming," Sy said. "If he could break away from his squad for a minute we could grab him and run."
"What if they come after us?" Red asked.
"We can't let that happen," Peter said. "We won't stand a chance unless we have a good head start. I'll call Lorin and see if she can get hold of Sgt. Baig. Hopefully, he'll have a contact lined up for us."
When they stopped to rest Peter got on the GC and tried to raise Lorin. "S2, do you read? . . . S2, this is R1, do you read?" . . . "Shisk—"
Blip . . .blip . . . "This is S2. Sorry, I was asleep."
"Right," Peter said. "Sorry to wake you, but we need you to check on something for us."
"All right. What is it?"
"Sgt. Baig was going to try to line us up a contact at Pegaport to make contact with Tam. We need you to see if he was successful. We'll be ready for the extraction at sunset and need to finalize our plans."
"I'll get right on it and get back to you,"Lorin assured them.
"Thanks."
"Oh, by the way. I had a long talk with Lucinda. She's fine . . . and so is the baby."
Relief rushed through Peter like a cool summer breeze but it didn't last. Although he was glad to hear all was well, the news of Luci also saddened him. The thought that she'd considered him little more than a friend was still hard for him to accept.
"Oh, thank God. . . . Did she—"
"She said she missed you. She'd like to see you."
"Really? She said that?"
"Yes. Her mate's not so excited about the pregnancy."
"Why not?"
"He's used to getting Lucinda's full attention, but now she’s very much distracted by the baby. He doesn't like that."
"What a selfish pig," Peter said.
Lorin laughed. "He also doesn't like the fact that Lucinda is always talking about you."
"About me? She talks about me? . . . You think she misses me?"
"Obviously. I'm going to see if I can arranging for her to come visit you at our base in the Beet Islands. If she agrees, I'm going to personally escort her there. We should be at the base when you arrive."
"What! You've got to be kidding? I can't believe it. Lorin, you're an angel. Thank you so much."
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"Well, she hasn’t agreed yet.”
“Right. I hope she does.”
“I have a feeling she will. Then you’ll have some real incentive to get your butt off Muhl and down to the Beet Islands."
"You're right about that."
"I'll call you back as soon as I get word from Sgt. Baig. Be careful."
"Will do. Check you later. R1 out."
Peter was so excited he could scarcely contain his joy. Hopefully, in just a few days he'd be seeing Luci. It was so unexpected. He closed his eyes and thanked God—not just that he may be seeing her, but that she was missing him. That was even better news. Perhaps there was hope after all that they might someday be together. As he was daydreaming about Luci, a loud Screeeekchaa. Screeeekchaa jolted him back to the present. He stood up and looked around warily.
"It's time to get going," Peter said. "We've got to make Shaft 22 before dawn."
Sy and Red got up and they began the last leg of their trek. It was a cool, cloudless night and the faint glow of Tarizon’s two moons could be seen through the hazy sky. This was only the second time Peter had seen the two moons and he marveled at the oddity of it. As they walked, Peter looked out and wondered if he'd ever see Earth’s moon again. He missed his family so much he started to choke up. Tears ran down his cheek. Fortunately it was dark and his friends couldn't see his pain. As he wiped the tears from his eyes, he wondered if his family thought of him as often as he thought of them. Suddenly he felt a strange sensation in his head. It was a faint voice that he couldn't quite understand, but knew very well. It was the voice of his father. Was it just his imagination or was his father trying to make contact with him? Surely it couldn't be—thoughts traveling millions of miles through space. But he did feel his father's presence and it was very comforting.
Tarizon, The Liberator, Tarizon Trilogy Vol 1 Page 38