Nobody quit. No one complained. Cave-ins are a part of the life of a miner and every one knew it. Knowing where Zo and her group were gave them incentive to forge on. Zeer touched minds with Zo from time to time to make sure that they were updated on progress and to keep up their spirits.
That whole next day, no more miners were found. Baskets of rocks and dirt were carried on the backs of miners in a steady line. These baskets of slag were poured onto sorting tables and each basket was combed through for even a sliver of Quallium. The waste from this process was forming a small mountain at the edge of the old mine entrance.
They dug by hand for two more days. As the third morning dawned, Zeer had fallen asleep in a chair. He had worn himself out manning the hand pumps that were the only safe way to pump air down to the miners creating the new shaft. Another hand pump was removing the fumes from the explosion. The air was still bad and got even worse as they descended. Paris came with a blanket and snuggled up to her man. They slept together thus for maybe only two more hours.
There was a communication station right next to him. It crackled to life just as Zo’s thought broke into his dreams. "Hey, we're through!" was the message on the loud speaker.
“Hey…I see lights…” was the message from Zo.
Paris mentally shook his shoulder, "Zeer, wake up, darlin... they found Zoie!"
"Paris... is that you?"
She pulled the blanket off him and ran for the new mine entrance, "Aye, Darlin', they are found."
Zeer stood and stretched. He could see her working with her group. They were setting up a washing station for the miners that were about to emerge." How many did they find? "
"Forty-nine...twenty-three dead..."
"How sad..."
"Rejoice for the living and pray for the dead," Zac intoned.
Sirens began to blow all over the fort. The commander was awakened and prepared quickly. The news hawks began to gather around the Press Consoles.
"Morty? Morty? Where is that lizard?"
"Yo? Channel 14? Hook me up! There're coming out!"
"Tango? Get your damned viddy linkers linked!"
"They're bringin' em up."
"Tandor? Forget the link! We'll shoot it and play it for 'em later."
"Look! Look! Get your camera hot, Mister! Here comes one now!"
As the only Paronese newsie in the front group, Trevor Praseer was ready. He was a beautiful golden Par Cat male. He had been following the conversations between Zo and some strange male voice that he had never heard before. This morning, he had been awakened by the call that Zo sent to Paris and Paris had sent to Zeer. The two minutes of lead time afforded by the connection to Paris Taflick was all he needed.
He awakened his mate, Janni. She was a perky Earther with short dark hair and a very full figure. He marvelled at how she could sleep without fur and be so warm to the touch." Can't think about that now," he told himself.
"The miners are rescued. They're comin' up, sweets. I just got word."
"Oh? I didn't hear anyone at the door. I must be more tired than I thought." Once again, she wondered where he gets his tips. "Oh well, that's why he's the best," she thought. He just smiled warmly at her thoughts.
Dressing quickly, he helped her up onto the top of their Com Cast unit. "Look at this mob! Janni, shoot this mob scene! We'll use it for our intro."
"Yezzz, massa Trev..." she mumbled under her breath. She hated him when he was like this. When he was into a story, she became part of his equipment. Soon, she forgot him as she became fully occupied, looking through the viewfinder, following his beautiful face as he pointed out the shots that they would make.
Trevor paid no attention to her grumbles. He would make it up to her. He always did. “Are we linked?”
“Aye, aye, Cap’m!”
“Good!” He paid her sarcasm no mind. He was looking around and getting his feet set for the shot. "Ready? 3, 2, 1... Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the news is good. We have just been informed that the new shaft that the miners have been digging has reached the last of the trapped miners.”
“They have been down there without food or water for more than three days. We have no word as to how many of them are still alive (even though he did know, his Par Cat vow must not be ignored), we have it on good authority that some have survived."
All around them similiar reports were being taped for other stations in other languages. This was the story of the cycle and they all wanted a piece of the action. The commandant appeared, looking sober. He marched quickly through the crowds. His personal guardians were pushing a path ahead of him as he strode imperiously to the press conference.
The entire fort was waiting expectantly when the first miners appeared. Wave after wave of cheers poured over them. The Guardians were hard pressed to maintain a walkway through the mob toward the bathing and then, to the hospital tents. Finally, using electro-whips, they pushed the crowds back. All was ready for them to appear through the clouds of smoke pouring from the new scar in the cliff front.
As the miners came out, each one was carried to the bathing tents or to the Preacher Man. The living prayed to the Master for their salvation. Last, they began bringing out the dead. The camera panned in close to the Preacher man's sadness. It was so real, that tears flowed down his dust covered face creating a map of rivulets. It was seen in living color all over the galaxy. He pulled his hood forward.
In a low, beautiful voice, he began singing the “Last Song”. While singing, he knelt before the growing line of the fallen. The people were moved by his gentleness. The tears that dripped out of the hood were real. Janni got it all for the viddys.
He prayed silently. He connected to his wife, "Paris..."
"Aye, ma sweet..."
"Am I up ta this? These people deserve a real Preacher man."
“For the last three days, me darlin, you have fought the very Divil for their hearts and souls in hand to hand combat. Every one here saw it the same as me. Thee are a real Preacher Man, ma sweets! Thee are the very kind that these people need most…"
"The strength of the deed gives life to the Word, sez the Book, me son. Do yee good and remaineth always within the Word and the Master will strengthen thy every effort."
"Thankee for thy confidence."
"Keep a stiff upper lip, son. Do your job. They did theirn. They've earned their rest."
"Okay, Dad, Thanks."
"You've studied the Word. You know the Way. Noone stands between the True Master and the True Servant. Sing His songs. He will hear us."
"That's why you were so good. You actually believed it."
"What's not to believe. Truth is truth."
In his mind, Trevor heard the whole exchange. He wondered who the two voices with the Emerish brogue were, but he was too busy getting viddy to worry about it. He was glad that he had thought to get up on top of his press vehicle. Janni was easily able to shoot over the pressing crowd. They had the best shots of what was going on over at the death tent. They beamed the beautifully expressive ceremonies across the galaxy.
Preacher Man Page 10