by Homer Hickam
Ahead, all Maria could see were gray, rolling hills, sparse craters, and no tracks. Wherever they were going, no one else had gone before. Still, the driving was easy. The chuckwagon was a state-of-the-art moon vehicle, its articulated axles and studded wheels and power steering making it a snap to drive. Maria checked the nav system and saw that they were still heading generally west. She called up Crater’s private number. “Where are we going?”
“Endless Dust,” he answered before adding, “We need to keep comm down to a minimum.”
“Why? This is a secure channel.”
“We could always be intercepted. Besides, I need to focus,” Crater replied.
In other words, Maria fumed, he didn’t want to talk to her. Well, scrag that. She was Maria Medaris and she didn’t follow any man around. It took a moment before Maria placed Endless Dust, but when she did, she didn’t like it at all. “That’s at least three hundred miles away,” she said. “Why are we going there?”
Several seconds passed before Crater replied. “The people in the truck and the crusher are my clients. They hired me to take them there.”
“The situation has changed. We should turn north to Aristillus. There’s a security force there.”
“My clients want to go to Endless Dust.”
“If we get caught by those spiderwalkers, it won’t matter where they want to go.”
“We’re going to Endless Dust,” Crater said.
“Maybe I’ll go to Aristillus by myself,” Maria replied.
“Maria,” Crater said with a sigh, “just drive, okay? I know you’re tired. So am I. But we’re going to Endless Dust and that’s it. If you don’t want to drive, let Crescent take over.”
“She doesn’t know how to drive this vehicle.”
“I am perfectly capable of driving this vehicle,” Crescent said.
“Excuse me, but this is between Crater and me,” Maria snapped.
Crescent leaned back and cradled her rifle in her lap. “You’re right,” she said.
“Right about what?” Maria demanded.
“You’re right that we should go to Aristillus. We could be there in two days. We might even be able to call ahead and get a security force out to us. Out here, it’s just us against the Legion and they will catch us. Crater is wrong.”
Surprised, Maria glanced at the crowhopper, then back to the terrain ahead. On second thought, maybe this humanoid or whatever she was wasn’t all that ugly. And the odor that had come from her hadn’t been all that bad, just natural perspiration for what had been, after all, hot work. “Thank you for saving my life,” Maria said.
“Crater saved your life, not me,” Crescent replied.
“When I was plucked out of the fastbug, you cut that creature’s leg off.”
“I am trained to react quickly and violently. But you’re welcome.”
Maria glanced at Crescent again. The girl looked strong, but Maria was strong too. Since her return to Armstrong City, she’d worked out every day in the company gym with a professional trainer. She was toned and fit, her energy tireless. She’d learned a variety of fighting skills—tai chi, kung fu, karate, and the new style of hand-to-hand combat called bergerhauster where hands, feet, elbows, and knees were used as lethal weapons. “I could turn the chuckwagon north,” Maria said. “Crater would have to follow us.”
“I’m not so certain,” Crescent replied. “It is a matter of honor for him to take those people to Endless Dust.”
“You said the Legion will catch us.”
“Yes. And then they will probably kill us all except for you. You, they will take for ransom.”
Maria absorbed the girl’s declaration. “You say that so matter-of-factly. How can you be so calm about it?”
“I was born to die in battle. It is no great surprise that it will occur. But perhaps I am wrong. If nothing else, Crater is lucky. I was taught to never discount luck, especially in war. A plan does not last long in a fight. In this case, Crater has no plan, other than to do what he promised his clients, but he will come up with something. I trust him to do that.”
Maria drove on, following the fastbug until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. The girl crowhopper didn’t seem to be tired at all. “Would you like to drive?” Maria asked.
Crescent nodded. “You would trust me?”
“Just don’t wreck my grandfather’s chuckwagon,” Maria said, slipping out of the seat while holding on to the steering wheel.
Crescent handed Maria the railgun rifle, then grasped the steering wheel and sat down. “Do you know how to use it?” she asked, meaning the rifle.
“Better than you, honey,” Maria replied, subsiding in the passenger’s seat.
Crescent made no reply, which surprised Maria. She’d expected an argument and was a little disappointed she hadn’t gotten one. The crowhopper girl was interesting. Maria might have thought about that a little longer and tried to figure out how to turn it to her advantage, but she soon fell into a deep sleep. A few hours later she received a call from Crater. “Would you like to drive the fastbug?” he asked. “I recall you were a pretty good scout. I’d also like to get to know the chuckwagon.”
“Sure thing!” Maria chirped. She looked over at Crescent. “You’ve done well.”
“It is a fine machine,” Crescent said with a shrug, then stopped the chuckwagon to let Maria get out and Crater climb in.
Outside, Maria settled into the fastbug. “This feels good,” she said and meant it. For far too long she’d allowed herself to be cooped up inside an office. It was exhilarating to once more be in the wayback even if the situation was a desperate one.
“Remember you’re breaking a new trail,” Crater said. “Don’t go too fast. If you do, even a small crater can do a lot of damage.”
Maria wanted to growl that she knew very well how to drive a fastbug but she held herself back. “Look, Crater,” she said, “we really should head for Aristillus. Even Crescent agrees.”
“We’re going to Endless Dust.”
“The spiderwalkers will catch us,” Crescent said.
Crater looked back toward the horizon. All he could see were gray hills and black sky. “The crusher is slowing us down,” he said.
“Why don’t we abandon it?”
“My clients need it.”
“Crater, do you hear yourself?” Maria demanded. “This is no longer about your clients.”
“We’ll get through,” Crater said.
“Do you really believe that?”
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it. Now, get going but don’t get too far ahead. Just stay generally westward.”
Maria got going. At first she went fast but then, remembering Crater’s words, slowed down so that she could keep the others in sight. It was strange the way she felt. She was excited to be driving a fastbug but she was also frightened to the marrow of her bones.
::: THIRTY-FIVE
Doing his best to avoid any of the deeper holes, Crater drove the chuckwagon through a ravaged field of eroded craters surrounded by steep blue-gray hills, equally torn to pieces by ancient meteors. Everything looked as if it had been blasted by pellets from giant shotguns. There were also huge boulders sparkling in the sunlight, fragments of asteroids soaring out of the primordial solar system to skim past the Earth to strike instead the near side of the moon.
Crescent sat beside him with a rifle on her lap. Behind them, the Helper, strapped in a chair, dozed. Close behind, Jake and Trudelle were driving the truck and trailer, and Clarence and Eliza were driving the crusher. Maria scouted ahead.
They had gone two days without stopping. Everyone in the little convoy, with the possible exception of the Helper, was exhausted. The biofuel cells that drove the vehicles had need of rest. Crater kept glancing at the radar. Though it covered twenty miles in any direction, there was a great deal of static from the pocked terrain. Pursuing spiderwalkers might easily be lost in the radar’s ground clutter.
Crater looked over
at Crescent and noticed her face was wet. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re crying.”
“Am I?”
“If you’re not, it’s raining and the roof is leaking.”
Crater’s answer made Crescent smile. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and said, “That is funny. I know for a fact you have never seen it rain.”
“But I have a good imagination,” Crater replied, glad for the conversation that he hoped would keep him awake. “My brother, Petro, was forever going on about what it would be like to see and feel rain. He claimed he remembered it from his childhood, but I don’t think he did. He was just remembering what he’d read in books.”
“I have been in the rain many times,” Crescent said. “Rain is not always pleasant the way you moon people talk about it. Sometimes it is cold and sometimes it turns to ice and snow. It also causes the dirt to turn into mud, which clings to the feet and tires and tracks and makes a great mess. If it rained here, it would be the worst mud ever known. Everything on this little planet is the worst.”
“It’s still home,” Crater said, then remembered what had started the conversation. “Why are you crying?”
Crescent looked out the window at the tortured landscape, then said, “I miss Mend Your Britches and Ike. They were good to me and did not deserve to die. I think of them and the tear ducts in my eyes start working. I don’t wish it to happen but it does.”
“I miss them too,” Crater said. “If I started thinking about them, I’d probably cry too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Crescent was quiet for a while, then said, “This girl Maria. I familiarized myself with her while we drove together. She is smart and she speaks her mind. I admire this but I also know she has treated you badly. Why do you love her?”
Crater shrugged. “I’m not sure I do. I thought I did but now I don’t know.” Crater felt a need to change the subject. “You told her you thought the spiderwalkers would catch us. I’m not even sure they’re following.”
“They are. It is their duty.”
“What is their weakness?”
Crescent gave that some thought, then said, “As long as they have good leaders, they will be good fighters. If their leadership is poor, they will be poor fighters. It is the way of all fighting forces.”
“Then let’s hope for poor leadership. And we have an advantage they don’t know about,” Crater said.
“What’s that?”
“You.”
Crescent didn’t think that her presence would make any difference at all but she didn’t say it, not seeing the point of puncturing Crater’s hopes. When the walkers caught them, they would attack viciously. To change the topic, she looked over her shoulder at the Helper who had come awake, although he was not moving and just staring blankly ahead. She asked, “What is this Helper?”
“They’re humans used for menial chores.”
“Genetically modified like me?”
“Yes.”
“Why is he with us?”
“I felt sorry for him.”
“Like you did me?” When Crater didn’t answer, Crescent said, “I don’t like that he doesn’t have a name.”
“Would you like to give him one?”
Crescent looked uncertain, then climbed out of her seat and went back to sit on a couch across from the Helper. He took note of her. “Hello. I am a Helper. May I help you?”
Crescent reached across and lifted the tag that was hanging from his neck. “What is this?”
“That is my price. I will help you.”
“You are expensive.”
“I am young. When old, I can be traded for a new Helper.”
Crescent dropped the tag. “I am not going to buy you. You don’t need to be bought. You are free.”
The Helper looked distressed. “I do not understand.”
Crescent turned toward Crater. “What should I do?”
“He thinks he has to be owned by someone. Take his tag off if you want him.”
Crescent took the tag off. “You belong to me. Do you have a name?”
“No, but you may give me one if it will help.”
“I will call you Ike. You remind me of . . . someone I used to know. Do you like your new name?”
“My name is Ike.”
“Very good, Ike.”
“How may I help you?”
“Just sit here for now.”
Crater checked the radar again. There was still nothing moving behind them that he could see. By his calculations, they had traveled two hundred tough miles. They’d gone west, then turned north before turning west again into the tortured land of the Cayleys. In his rearview mirror, he could see their tracks glowing in the sunlight almost as if they were on fire. The walkers, if they were coming, would easily be able to track them.
He took the gillie from his pocket. “Have you heard the crowhoppers?” he asked.
No local transmissions.
“Have you heard anything else?”
Many military communications. The battle is in space.
“Who’s winning?”
It is not clear who is fighting.
Before the gillie could continue, if it meant to, Crater slammed on the brakes to keep from running over Maria, who had stopped her fastbug. She was looking at a gleaming strip of dust set between a narrow passage. “I’m not sure we should cross this,” she said. “It looks slippery.”
Crater grabbed his helmet, then looked over his shoulder. “Ike?”
Ike stood up. “Yes, sir? May I help?”
“No. Stay where you are. I’m going to seal off your compartment. Crescent and I are getting out.”
“Yes, sir. I am prepared to help when you need me.” Ike sat down, put his hands on his knees, and stared straight ahead.
“Can we cross?” Jake called from the truck.
“Let me check,” Crater replied, pulling a scragbar out of the chuckwagon. He walked up beside Maria and pondered the glistening material.
“What do you think it is?” Maria asked.
“Let’s find out,” Crater said, then drove the scragbar’s point into the material and pried out a lump. Studying it with his helmet magnifier, he saw it had threads inside that gave it a yellowish tint.
“Odd,” Maria said when Crater handed it to her.
Crater dug into his pocket and brought out the gillie. “Gillie,” he said. “What is this mineral?”
The gillie said nothing and Crater realized it had gone to sleep again. Shaking his head, he tucked it back in his pocket as Jake and Clarence walked up. “May I?” Clarence asked, plucking the lump from Maria’s hand. He studied it, then said, “Nickel. Based on its color, it is also suffused with a high gold content.”
“Gold?” Crater and Maria asked in unison.
Clarence nodded. “Nickel and gold are commonly found together in nature.”
“This is likely the remains of an asteroid,” Jake added. He had walked out on the glittering surface, kicking the dust away. He skated back. “No atmosphere on the moon to burn it up, just crashed here in all its glory. Worth more johncredits than probably exist.”
“How do you know?” Crater demanded.
“I have a degree in geology,” Jake said. “Clarence has one in mining engineering. What? Did you think we were just ignorant Apps?” He put his hand to his chin, or tried to before being stymied by his helmet. “Do we have time for a core sample? We have a diamond core drill. It wouldn’t take but a few minutes.”
Maria stared at the two immigrants. “Forget going to Endless Dust. Claim this asteroid, dig it up, and be trillionaires.”
Jake looked at Clarence who looked back, then both smiled. “We’re going to Endless Dust. I guess you could say we are a hardheaded people.”
“Something’s moving on the radar,” Crescent said. She had been standing on the running board of the chuckwagon so she could see through the window and keep her eye on the screen.
&nb
sp; Crater stepped up beside her and watched the screen for a few seconds. “I don’t see anything,” he said.
“I saw movement at the far edge of the scope. A series of blips. I’m sure they were spiderwalkers.”
“How many?”
“I think eight. A standard contubernium. And based on this terrain, I think they’ll be at this spot in three hours or less.”
Crater stepped off the running board and took Jake by the arm and walked him a little way off, making sure their do4u’s were on private. “We’re going to have to fight. Do the women know how to shoot?”
“We’re Apps, Crater. We all grew up with guns.”
“Good. I’ll have Crescent run you through some quick rifle training.”
Seeing the worry on Crater’s face, Jake said, “We’ll stop them.”
“To stop a contu of spiderwalkers will take more than rifles. We’ve got to disable them.”
“We have detpaks,” Jake suggested.
“They would do the trick, but we can’t just heave them over,” Crater said. “Spiderwalkers are fast. What we need is some kind of artillery.”
That was when Crater’s eyes landed on the stack of pipe on the trailer. “What diameter core sample can you take?” he asked. “For instance, could you make a core the diameter of your water pipe?”
“Sure. The interior diameter of the small-sized pipe is three inches and that’s one of the standard core sizes.”
“How long are the cores?”
“Two or three inches.”
“Make it three inches,” Crater said. “And get started right away. As many of them as you can cut out of the nickel.”
“You have a plan?”
“A desperate one.”
“Best kind,” Jake said, then went off to core sample the asteroid.
::: THIRTY-SIX
The rubble-covered hills formed a natural funnel. For Crater’s plan to work, he hoped the spiderwalkers would take the easy route and follow the tracks of the convoy right up to the edge of the asteroid.
The surface of the asteroid was like a lake of ice. It wasn’t easy, and there was a great deal of slipping and sliding, but they managed to get all the vehicles across. Crater parked the convoy aiming away, first the fastbug, then the chuckwagon, then the truck and trailer. The crusher was turned sideways at the edge of the metallic lake. Atop it, Crater mounted his cannon, a lunar version of a potato gun.