The Money Star

by Jon Lymon

  “And six to get back on track. That is a lot of fuel,” said DT, sounding concerned.

  “But think about the fuel you’ll save if it is our asteroid,” said Remnant.

  “I am thinking about that, believe you me. Mitch, in your honest opinion, what are the chances of that being the diamond?”

  Bettis exhaled, feeling the pressure of expectation.

  “Why are you asking him?” said Remnant, offended.

  “Because I value his opinion,” was DT’s measured response.

  “Ten thousand, no, a hundred thousand to one against.”

  “What’s that mean?” Aurora asked, looking at Remnant.

  “It means we stick to the course we are on,” said DT who turned to head back to the cabin.

  “No. No fucking way,” Aurora yelled. “Who made you captain? It’s my fuel running this ship and I say we go check it out.”

  She looked to Remnant for support, and he stood up for maximum impact. “I’m with her on this. We can’t afford not to check it out.”

  “And we also can’t afford to check it out,” said DT. “We won’t have enough fuel to get to the belt. We are not changing course and that is final.”

  “I’m afraid it isn’t.” Aurora drew a laser pistol and pointed it at DT’s head.

  “What the hell is that? How did you get that onboard?”

  “Your security checks were pretty slack, I gotta say.”

  “Who’s in charge of security checks around here?” DT asked the other two.

  “You’re the captain,” Remnant reminded him.

  “Did you know about this?” DT asked him, pointing at her gun. “I bet you’re in on this.”

  “There you go again, accusing me of stuff I ain’t done. I had no idea she was armed.”

  “Yeah, look, er, hel-lo,” said Aurora, waving the weapon about. “Fuck whatever shit you two got going on. Now, I’m sorry to have to do this, but I’m going to have to insist we go check that dot out.”

  “I must say, a gun is very inappropriate,” said Bettis. “Why are you so keen?”

  “Call it feminine instinct, call it what you will, I need to know what it is.”

  “What will happen if you fire that thing in here?” said DT pointing to the gun. “Won’t it damage the walls and suck us all out into space?”

  “You don’t want to find out,” she said.

  Bettis was looking to DT for a decision. “Well, well, it seems I’m left with no choice. Change course, please Mitch. Let’s go and see if that dot on the radar really is what we’ve all been dreaming about.”

  Bettis sighed and flicked a few switches and steered the Baton Uric in a new direction.

  The next six hours were among the most awkward yet experienced aboard the ship. Aurora refused to withdraw her weapon from view, despite DT’s protestations. Remnant sat in the co-pilot’s seat not knowing where to look. Bettis concentrated on steering the vessel towards the target.

  “You wouldn’t really have used that gun on me, would you?” DT asked Aurora.

  She smiled. “No, of course not. I would have just got some nasty mutants I know back home to bury you in the Martian desert.”

  DT looked at her with newfound fear and slouched into a sulk on the rear cockpit seat.

  It was Bettis who eventually cracked the silence a few hours later. “Right, we should be able to identify the target any minute now.”

  Aurora rushed over to the dashboard. The dot was now a slightly bigger dot but looked too long and thin to be an asteroid.

  “What do you reckon it is?” Remnant asked.

  Bettis shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I’m fairly sure it isn’t an asteroid.”

  DT stood and sighed. “Right, now we’ve established what we already suspected, can we please get back to the original plan.”

  “Move in closer. We need to move in closer,” Aurora insisted.

  Bettis looked at DT who shrugged his shoulders. The pilot kept the ship on the same trajectory, and as they closed in on the object, Aurora’s mouth slowly widened.

  “My word,” said Bettis, equally surprised.

  Remnant slowly stood.

  DT wandered over to see what all the fuss was about. He gasped when he saw what they were looking at. “How did that get here?” he asked.

  Spinning slowly on an invisible axis was a space vessel about twice the size of the Baton Uric. It looked in good working order, save for the patchy ice on the bodywork and the thick ice on the inside of its smooth, reflective cockpit window. An extended robotic arm hung limp from the side of the vessel, icicles dangling along its entire length.

  “He’s in there,” Aurora whispered.

  “Who’s in there?” Remnant asked.

  DT was more interested in the robotic arm. “Move in closer, Bettis. Let’s take a look.”

  As they approached the vessel, the livery on its side became clearer. The stars and stripes. The NASA logo. And the ship’s name. Prospector II.

  “Oh my, oh my, look at that.” DT was pointing to the drill tip on the end of the robotic arm. As the lights from the Baton Uric shone over its surface, small golden glints glowed. “Unless I am very much mistaken, that is diamond dust my friends,” DT declared. “Diamond dust.”

  Bettis stood and leant into the windscreen. “My word, is it? Is it really? It could be ice.”

  “That’s not ice. It’s golden.”

  Bettis peered closer.

  “Are you sure? Are you sure?” Remnant asked, straining to get a clearer look.

  “Take a good look for yourself,” said DT.

  Remnant couldn’t decide if what he thought he was seeing was actually what he was seeing.

  “My husband. My husband’s in there,” Aurora said softly to Remnant.

  DT whooped with joy and high, low and middle-fived Bettis. It was the most animated either man had been in years.

  “So it is true, there really is a diamond asteroid out here somewhere. Let’s get after it,” DT said.

  Remnant nodded while looking at Aurora who was staring at the stranded ship.

  Bettis switched off the auto pilot.

  “Hold on,” Aurora shouted.

  “No way, we need to get going. We’ve lost enough time already,” said DT.

  “My husband is on that ship,” she shouted.

  The excitement disappeared in an instant, and the three men stared at her.

  “How do you know?” DT asked.

  “He was an astronaut. For NASA. He left me and the kids to go on a mission. On that ship.”

  “So what happened to it?” DT asked, looking for signs of damage.

  “It looks like NASA left them out here to die,” she said.

  “I could go and get him before we leave?” Remnant told Aurora.

  “Now hold on a minute,” said DT. “No one’s leaving this ship. We’re getting out of here and heading into the belt.”

  Aurora was shaking her head. “We should leave him.”

  “I can go and get his body if you want,” said Remnant in open defiance of DT’s authority.

  “Don’t be stupid, Sye,” said DT. “It’s too risky. And we can’t afford to hang around.”

  Aurora looked at Remnant and smiled. “He’s right. We should go. I just needed to see it for myself.”

  DT nodded to Bettis who gently upped the thrust. All three men bowed their heads as they passed the Prospector II, their heads staying down until the stricken ship was a respectful distance behind them.

  Aurora looked stoically straight ahead, tears filling but not spilling from her eyes. “There’s one good thing about this ship,” she said to no one in particular. “It doesn’t let you look back.”

  32

  ‘Whose head will roll the furthest, that’s all you need worry about.’ Haygue was red with anger and pointing an accusing finger at the SEC guard who greeted him in the hangar at the end of the Martian airstrip a few minutes after M Krugler landed Prospector III.

  “We
didn’t get sign off to proceed with the other airstrip until a week ago, sir. But it’s nearly finished.”

  “But it’s not quite finished, is it? Which is why I have to land here and take a hundred-mile trip by transporter across the Martian desert.”

  “About that transporter trip, sir.”

  “What?” Hagyue was ready to overheat.

  “There’s no transporter available to take you to the facility, sir.”

  “Tell me you’re not serious, come on, tell me.”

  “We’ve booked you a suite at the Hilton, sir.”

  “The unfinished Hilton? Oh, well why didn’t you say? That makes everything OK, then, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s just a short walk this way if you’d care to follow me, sir.”

  “We’re not going to the belt?” M Krugler asked. Haygue ignored him.

  “Why aren’t we going to the belt, Haygue?” Stock asked.

  “Not now.”

  The fact that Stock was on Mars hadn’t sunk in yet. He was on Mars, a planet he’d dreamed and had nightmares about. A planet that was once feared by mankind. Yet walking across its surface felt no more unusual than trekking across the Mojave desert back home. He followed Haygue and the SEC guard down Gasoline Alley towards the Hilton. If only Onamoto were here now, Stock thought. Sharing this moment with him. They’d have gotten to know each other on the outward journey. Stock would have spent more time out of his cabin and in Ona…

  A stab of cold blood shot up Stock’s throat. Why hadn’t it occurred to him before? The Prospector III only had three cabins, one for Haygue, one for M Krugler and one for him. And yet Haygue had been expecting Onamoto. Stock turned to look at the old guy who was still berating the SEC guard.

  “I need to get to that facility, asap. Do you hear me? A-sap.”

  “I understand that, sir, but all transporters are currently otherwise engaged in mission-related activities.”

  “Getting me to the facility is a mission-related activity,” Haygue barked. “Hell, it’s a mission-related priority.”

  “Yes sir, but everyone is working hard.”

  “Yeah, working hard helping themselves.” Haygue turned around, aware of being looked and frowned at by Stock. “What is it, Stock?”

  “I want some answers,” Stock demanded.

  “Well, give me some questions.”

  “Did you kill Onamoto?”

  The SEC guard glanced over his shoulder at Haygue who stifled a laugh. “Who said I killed Onamoto?”

  “Why did the ship only have three cabins? If you were expecting Onamoto, where was he supposed to sleep?”

  “The only thing I expected of Onamoto was for him to be a no-show. And, hey presto, I was right.”

  “Why hasn’t anyone heard anything from him since we launched?”

  Haygue shrugged. “Maybe he’s gone into hiding. Like I said, Stock, you and him made a lot of powerful enemies back home. Onamoto will be best off keeping his head down for a while, because there’s a few expert marksmen wanting to shoot it off.” Haygue turned and tapped the shoulder of the SEC guard ahead of him.

  “My suite’s at the Hilton is bigger than everyone else’s, right?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Stock was nothing if not persistent. “Even if Onamoto is in hiding, he’d still update his Facebook page, surely?”

  “You tell me, Stock. You seem to know him better than anyone else. In my mind, he’s caused enough trouble already. I can’t begin to tell you the hassle he’s created for our government. He’s actually forced them into making snap decisions, which is a first.”

  The SEC guard chuckled and dodged a particularly deep rut in the road.

  Haygue could see Stock was genuinely concerned for Onamoto’s welfare and his own safety. “Why do you give a shit about Onamoto anyways?”

  “Because he’s been one of the few to tell the truth, to tell it how it is. If it wasn’t for him, no one except SEC would know about the asteroid.”

  Haygue stopped. His expression had turned stern and he leaned close to Stock. “If you ask me, Onamoto deserves to die. He has divulged top secret information that could and probably already has compromised the security and future prosperity of your nation. Our nation.”

  “Save the politics for someone who gives a shit, Haygue.”

  “You should give a shit, Stock. No one should be revealing classified information.”

  “There’s no such thing as classified information anymore, Haygue. You live in a world that’s gone. A world of privacy and secrecy that doesn’t exist anymore. Everyone’s business is everyone else’s business. Whatever you do, others will know about it, want to know about it or find ways to find out about it. Whatever you say, someone will overhear it. Wherever you go, someone will film it. Every move you make, someone knows about it. It’s the same for everyone.”

  “No, it’s not,” Haygue shouted and kicked the dusty Martian surface. “Because if what you say was true, you’d know what’s really happening out here. But you don’t know shit, Stock. You haven’t got a clue.”

  The SEC guard held the gold plated glass door open and ushered them into the lobby of the Mars Hilton. It was as impressive as many of the top class hotels back on Earth. A huge chandelier formed the centrepiece, with luxury brick red sofas either side that matched the colour of the rugged Martian terrain. Oval lamp shades on the end of thin gleaming silver poles were dotted around the marble floored room, and as Haygue and Stock approached the reception desk, they both noticed something strange. Aside from the concierge, there was no one else there.

  33

  The crack that had started to form within the crew developed into a split during the month that followed the discovery of Prospector II. DT and Bettis were spending more time together at the cockpit controls, or asleep in the cabin. Remnant and Aurora talked in the cabin whenever the other two were in the cockpit, or talked in the cockpit whenever the other two were in the cabin. She told Remnant about her husband, Roscoe DeMarriott and how he’d always been an adventurous type who had been one of the very first settlers on Mars, but who hadn’t settled into life on Mars. But living on Earth had been even more unsettling for him, ever since he was accused of betraying the trust of his boss.

  “Haygue I think his name was,” she said. “A real piece of work, you know. He got my husband kicked out of NASA. But two years later he was on the phone. I knew it would spell trouble. But Roscoe felt he owed him, so he went on the mission, and, well, you saw how that turned out.”

  “So what do you think happened to his ship?”

  “Haygue used them. To get information about the asteroid. Then once he got what he wanted, he cut them adrift. Left them to die, so he could be sure no one would find out about the diamond.

  “Then along came Onamoto.”

  “God bless Onamoto, eh?”

  Remnant smiled. “If it wasn’t for him, none of us would be here.”

  She talked fondly too of her three children, now in the care of her sister on Mars. “It’s been hard for them without their father around. I mean, there’s only so much a mom can teach three sons. But they’re good kids. I just don’t think there’s any future for them on Mars. Which is why I’m here really. Sure, I wanted to see if I could find Roscoe. But I knew there’d be nothing to bring home. So now I’m kind of hoping you guys will cut me a share of whatever we find so I can afford to take my boys back to Wyoming and start over.”

  Remnant waited for the questions about his background and when they came, he answered them as truthfully as he dared, neglecting only to mention that he’d chosen to come on this mission instead of attending Chloe’s wedding. “So, you see,” Remnant concluded, “I’ve not got a lot going for me.”

  He was hoping for some kind of positive response, something along the lines of ‘you’ve got plenty going for you.’ Something that would give him hope. But all he got was a ‘join the club, baby.’ Remnant took that as a knockback, a sign that she saw nothing in him. That
there was nothing to see. He spent the next few days avoiding her as much as he could avoid anyone in such a small space. They still exchanged pleasantries over their unpleasant meals, but other than that, Remnant made no effort to engage her.

  And so they waited and wondered what lay ahead. Bettis repeatedly checked the maps that Aurora had brought with her, maps that pertained to know a shortcut to the diamond asteroid, claiming accuracy to within a thousand miles. But Bettis couldn’t make any sense of them.

  “They’re useless,” he told Aurora as all four spent rare time together in the cockpit.

  “Hey, I bought those off one of the first guys to make it to Mars to refuel,” she said.

  “And where is he now?” Bettis asked.

  “Lost in space,” DT snorted. “Let’s face it, Aurora, you lied to us about knowing a shortcut.”

  “I didn’t lie. I was mistaken. I thought that map was the genuine article.”

  Bettis screwed it up and threw it at Aurora. She looked to Remnant for some kind of support, but he remained silent and seated.

  It wasn’t until Remnant saw Bettis whispering something to DT a few days later that anything else of note occurred on the ship. Remnant’s paranoia was enjoying a powerful resurgence to such an extent that upon seeing the whispered exchange, he asked Bettis to speak up.

  “I was just telling DT that we are now entering the zone where the asteroid should be,” said Bettis, resenting the interruption.

  Remnant looked to Aurora, who was crouched on the floor by the rear cockpit seat and raised his eyebrows. He looked over to the joystick that controlled the robotic arm and breathed deeply.

  DT experienced his biggest ever bout of nervously anticipated fear. With nearly fifty-five million miles on the clock, he was concerned that there was still nothing on the radar. “Shouldn’t we be seeing something by now?” he asked.

  Bettis tapped the radar screen, more for effect than through any real expectation of it producing a different result. “I suppose so,” he said.

  “For an asteroid belt, it’s surprisingly devoid of asteroids,” DT said, “diamond ones or otherwise. Have you seen any yet?”