by Ben Wolf
“Whatever, man.” Justin turned back to the women. “Speaking of which, who’s our foreman? I haven’t seen anything about who we’re supposed to report to yet.”
Connie shook her head. “No clue. But I heard ‘bout somethin’ else.”
“What’s that?” Justin bit into a dinner roll.
“You guys hear anything about Sector 6?”
Justin glanced at Keontae. “No.”
Connie shook her head and adjusted her brass-rimmed glasses. “I heard something.”
“What’d you hear?” Keontae sipped on his glass of water.
“Heard it was somethin’ worse. A lot worse.”
Now she had Justin’s attention. “What?”
Connie leaned forward.
5
Connie said, “A ghost.”
Now she’d lost Justin’s attention.
He leaned back, smiled, and gratified himself with a quick glance around the room for Shannon again. Still nothing. “You’re a character, Connie. I think we’ll get along just fine.”
“I’m serious.” Her voice lowered an octave. If she hadn’t totally sounded like a guy before, she did now. “Sector’s haunted, plain and simple. They won’t let anyone inside it. Company won’t talk about it, neither. Official word is that it was a cave-in, but I think that’s a steaming load.”
“It’s a mine. Cave-ins happen sometimes.” Keontae said between bites.
“They sure do, but that doesn’t explain the security they got in there. Think about it,” Connie said. “They got little gun-bots patrolling the mine at night to keep people out. Why go to such extremes unless there’s something terribly wrong?”
“Maybe they’re just being cautious,” Justin said.
Connie huffed. “Cautious, my bloated ass. I’ve heard talk about people seeing strange lights here and there that they can’t explain. And I heard someone’s already gone missing, too.”
Justin squinted at her. He didn’t know if he could or should believe her. “Someone went missing? It’s only been a few hours. I find that hard to believe, given how safety-focused this mine seems to be.”
Connie raised her hands. “I’m just tellin’ you what I heard. Some guy by the name of Dave Frankfurt. Had a big mustache and a lazy eye. Now no one can find ‘im. Besides, you saw that cyborg dame too, right? In the science office? She weren’t born that way.”
“What?” Justin asked. “What cyborg?”
“Haven’t seen anything like that,” Keontae said.
“You will.” Connie gave them a crooked smile. Her teeth were more brown than white. “Don’t know for sure what happened to ‘er, but I’ve heard plenty of rumors about it. They say she nearly got killed in an accident in Sector 6.”
“So this is all based on hearsay? People jawin’?” Keontae raised his left eyebrow.
“And putting some pieces together that otherwise might not seem related, yes.”
Keontae shook his head. “Sorry, Connie. Not buyin’ it. Mines are dangerous. Almost everything’s an occupational hazard.”
“This whole mine’s been closed for near three years. I know, ‘cause I applied ‘round the time they closed, and they rejected my application. Me. All those certs, and I couldn’t get a job at a growing mine like this one,” Connie said. “Then I got a ping on my account a few months back with an interview offer. Lucky for Andridge, my last job was shit, so I left.”
Justin’s eyes met Candy’s. She blinked at him once and then resumed her carnivore-feast.
“Mines this size don’t close just because of a cave-in. Somethin’ bad happened in Sector 6—somethin’ bad enough to shut down the whole damned mine,” Connie continued. “Plus, I asked around. Got lots of friends throughout the quadrant. I’ve worked for damn near every copalion mining company you ever heard of, big and small, so I know people. They didn’t know much, but they knew it weren’t nothing good.”
“Okay,” Justin said. “But even if something else did happen, it’s handled now. Otherwise the mine wouldn’t be open again.”
Connie hacked another laugh. “Throwin’ money at something don’t mean it’s fixed. Only idiots and politicians believe that. No offense, cutie.”
Justin bit back his initial response. “Thanks.”
“Aw, c’mon. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” Connie extended her hand to him. “We still friends?”
Justin stared at her meaty hand for a moment, then he took it and gave it a squeeze. “Sure.”
She squeezed back. “Good. Otherwise, Candy here’d have to break your legs.” Connie ground out another laugh and slapped her knee. “And she could do it, too.”
Keontae nodded and looked at Candy. “I believe you. She’s got some big arms. You bench?”
“Hell yes, she benches. 220, last time I seen ‘er do it.” Connie squeezed Candy’s shoulder, and Candy forced a furtive smile. “Her highest was 235, I think.”
“Day-um. That ain’t nothin’.” Keontae beamed. “I know dudes who can’t lift that much.”
“You lift?” Connie asked.
“You know it. Been slackin’ a bit since travelin’ here, but I’m gonna get back into it as soon as I can.”
“There’s a fitness center on the lower level of the admin offices, you know.” Connie pointed her thumb over her shoulder.
As the others continued to discuss workout regimens and the like, Justin’s mind and gaze wandered in search of Shannon again. By this point, the workers who’d reached the cafeteria early had begun to clear out. It made it easier for him to see that she wasn’t there.
He’d probably missed her. She seemed like the punctual type.
His eyes did manage to find Dirk, of course. He resisted the urge to look away and watched Dirk unwrap an ice cream sandwich. At least he’s human like everyone else.
Well, almost everyone else. If there was a true cyborg at the mine and not just someone who had gotten a prosthetic limb, maybe she only half-counted now.
He’d never seen anyone with extensive robotic augmentations. A limb here and there, sure. That was common, especially among miners.
But something that classified her as a cyborg? Probably a big difference.
“Damn right, I got abs.” Keontae stood up from his spot on the bench, straddling it between his legs, and pulled up his shirt. The cafeteria’s blue lights highlighted the tight ridges separating his perfect abdominal muscles.
“Work it, chocolate thunder!” Connie hooted.
Justin face-palmed himself. “Not again, Key.”
“You’re just jealous. All it takes is fifteen minutes a day, bro. I keep sayin’ you can look—”
“I can look like that, too. I know.” Justin rolled his eyes. “Would you put your shirt down already?”
“Ladies’ choice.” Keontae looked to Connie and Candy with his hand out.
Candy’s scowl had turned into a faint smile, and Connie waved him down.
“Alright.” Keontae let his shirt drop.
“I almost want to get on that.” Connie nudged Candy. “Don’t you?”
Candy blushed, and she shook her head and scarfed down another piece of beef.
Back in their room, Keontae and Justin watched the required training videos. Most of it amounted to a review of mining best practices that they already knew, but some of the planetary information proved important to know.
“Ketarus-4 has 27-hour days, so you’ll adapt to a ten-hour workday, including an unpaid hour-and-a-half lunch plus two paid fifteen-minute breaks,” said the girl hosting the training module. She was a cute girl of Asian descent—but also probably half a galaxy away.
They’d figured out a way to port the training presentations onto the big screen in their room and now watched them there. One module included mentions of the weight room in the admin offices, use of the cafeteria as a common space in between meals, and logistical info on how to file complaints with security and HR.
“For additional recreational opportunities, please explore the
Ketarus-4 Spaceport for its fun, energetic nightlife and expansive marketplace. If you’re in the mood to see some green, visit the neighboring Embivold Gewächshaus, the planet’s first and only operational greenhouse, which is directly funded by revenues from ACM-1134.”
“A greenhouse?” Justin asked.
“Yeah, man. You gotta grow those vegetables we had at dinner somewhere.”
“Embivold provides greenery and edible vegetation for all nearby settlements on Ketarus-4, including dozens of restaurants in the Ketarus-4 Spaceport.”
“Told you.” Keontae pointed at the screen, which showed an image of the greenhouse. “That’s where the ladies are.”
Justin tilted his head and paused the video. “What?”
“We came to this planet to work in a mine. Most of us are men, and the women here are like Connie and Candy from dinner.”
“Not all of the women are like that.”
“Okay, your girlfriend doesn’t seem like that, but she might swing the other way too. Anyway, all the good-lookin’ women are gonna be at that greenhouse. That’s where they’re workin’ instead of this mine, so that’s where I’m gonna be, come the weekend.”
“You’re serious?”
“Hell yeah, I’m serious. And when I roll up with one of these Nebrandts, fully blossomed, they’ll be all over me.”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that.”
“Anyway, would you shut her off? We gotta be up in about six hours, and I’m beat.” Keontae stripped off his shirt and pants, down to just his boxer shorts, and he lay on the floor and started banging out his nightly routine of situps, crunches, and other ab workouts.
The black outline of a tattooed cross spanned from the base of his neck down to an inch above his tailbone. Justin had asked Keontae about it once, and he’d said it was an homage to his grandfather, a Christian missionary who’d been killed on a mission to some planet in the Xardona System.
As Keontae switched to sit-ups, Justin had to admit—Keontae was in fantastic shape. If he did manage to find some girls at that greenhouse, it wouldn’t be his Nebrandt plants that grabbed their attention.
“You know, you could join me down here…” Keontae said between situps. “…and cut your abs too.”
“I know. I still have training modules to finish watching. So do you, actually.”
“Nah, bro. I’m more dangerous… if I don’t get a good night’s sleep. You can… fill me in on what I missed… in the morning.”
“If you say so.”
As the presentation droned on, Keontae finished his routine and climbed into bed. “I’m showering at 4am to beat the rush.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there.” Justin gave him a wink.
Keontae shook his head. “Why you always gotta take it to a queer place? Good night.”
Justin chuckled. “G’night.”
Justin successfully navigated his first day of community showers by avoiding them altogether, thanks to not setting an alarm. He showed up at breakfast at 5:40am wearing the same clothes he’d worn the day before.
His first day, and he was already late. Had Keontae not woken him, he could’ve slept for another twenty-seven-hour day.
He grabbed some protein bars and shoved what he could into the pockets of his denim pants, then he grabbed a crisp red apple and bolted out of the cafeteria while gnawing on it. He wove through the passageways to the first of a series of buffer zones that preceded entry to the mine, located his assigned locker amid the last-minute flurry of several other workers, and kicked off his boots.
His access code refused to let him open the locker at first, and he cursed. When he tried a second time, though, it opened, though he swore he’d typed it correctly the first time.
Justin threw on his protective gear—his helmet, his gloves, and his blaze-orange, radiation-shielded coveralls. Once he secured everything according to industry standards, he slipped on his company-issued radiation-shielded boots, hardhat, and jacket and shut his locker with his stuff inside of it.
That included the food he’d grabbed. He couldn’t take it any further into the buffer zones, but maybe he could come back for it during one of his breaks.
Justin tapped in his access code on the locker door once, messed up, and retyped it to lock it. The screen flashed green, then red, signifying he’d done it correctly, and he caught a glance of the clock. 0555.
He followed a few other orange-clad workers into the radiation screening room and then into the passageway. Justin noticed a sign hanging from the ceiling. It read, “Mine Access Ahead: Access Code and Proper Safety Attire Required Past this Point.”
The passageway was carved out of the same blue rock the entire planet seemed to be made of, and metal crossbeams reinforced the ceiling and walls every ten feet or so. The same blue domes as everywhere else illuminated the space from above.
The mine’s massive entrance resembled a bank vault, complete with a heavy door that now hung open, beckoning him and the other straggling workers inside. He hurried through it and into the mine corridor.
Like the passageways before this one, blue rock made up the corridor’s floor and ceiling, but the ceiling loomed overhead by at least fifty feet and was about double the width of the previous passageways. The other key difference was that the wall to their right, which also curved to the right, was solid metal.
Every few hundred feet or so, a set of metal doors sat closed, embedded in the metal wall. They looked to be made of the same alloy. Above each door hung a sign with the orange ACM logo, the word “Sector,” and a number, starting with Sector 24 and moving down.
Justin had seen mine setups like it before. The metal walls were probably anti-purdonic so errant lasers wouldn’t damage anything beyond the sector’s confines.
A hurried moment later, Justin arrived at Sector 13 and entered through the open door for his first day of work. The time on the terminal read 0558. He’d made it, but as soon as he stepped inside, he caught a glare from Keontae and a few of the other workers who’d made it on time. The man speaking at the front of the room didn’t seem to have noticed.
Connie spotted him, smiled, and waved at him. Candy noticed him too, but her disinterested scowl didn’t change. She just returned her attention to the man speaking.
He spotted a huge figure off to the right, standing with his back to Justin. Dirk? Justin couldn’t tell for sure because of all the protective equipment everyone wore, but who else could it be?
He cursed under his breath. It had to be Dirk. They would be working in the same sector. He’d already expected that would be the case, but the confirmation dashed the last of his hopes.
Keontae approached him and pointed to a trio of lines forming near the sector door. “You gotta sign in, bro. Network’s acting up, the guy said, so just enter your access code onto the screen, and they’ll upload your info to the system for payroll later. Hurry.”
Justin spun around and darted for lines. He needed to sign in quickly, or he’d be late for his first day.
As he waited, Justin took in the sector. He’d been in plenty of caverns before, but he never grew tired of the rush they gave his heart. Enclosed spaces, no matter how big or small, invigorated him. This cavern was no exception.
The uneven ceiling reached nearly 300 feet high, and a trio of massive turbines embedded in the ceiling swirled above. The cavern floor spread easily twice as far, a sizable start for a copalion mine. At previous jobs, Justin and Keontae had begun with spaces less than 300 square feet and expanded them to six or seven times the size in a matter of weeks.
A box-shaped glass office, illuminated with blue light, extended into the cavern by about thirty feet. To get up to it, he’d need a lift at least fifty feet tall, and even then, he couldn’t access it from within the mine. Perhaps there was an opening from the passageway, maybe one level higher up.
A lone form, a distinctly female silhouette, stood at the front of the office, watching them from above. Justin wondered what she looke
d like, but he couldn’t see her face from so far down in the mine. Maybe it was Shannon.
Against the wall to the right stood a few dozen unoccupied mech suits hooked to charging stations. They all looked brand new, devoid of the granulated rock dust that typically clung to their joints after extended use.
Banks of safety lockers lined the walls adjacent to the sector doors. A rack of powered hand tools, plus some old-fashioned picks, shovels, and other implements, ran perpendicular to the line of mech suits.
By the time Justin got up to the portable screens they were passing around, the clock in the lower right corner read 0600. He tapped in his access code and pressed enter, but as with his locker, it didn’t take the first time.
Damned glitchy tech in this place.
“Hurry up,” muttered someone behind him.
He swore, re-typed it, then hit enter again. The images on the screen turned from green to orange, and the clock in the corner expanded to fill the screen.
0601.
Late for his first day. Damn it.
“Hand it over, man,” the guy behind him said.
The screen reverted back to green. Justin mumbled more profanity and stepped aside.
“Oh, phew. Made the grace period.” The guy typed in his access code, and the screen turned orange for him as well.
“Grace period?” Justin asked. The guy turned toward him, and Justin recognized him as one of Dirk’s goons.
“Yeah. Five minutes after 6am.” The goon’s blue eyes narrowed. “Hey, aren’t you the pussy who threw up on the MetaFlight ship yesterday?”
Justin’s jaw hardened, and he gave the goon a once-over. He was shorter and stockier, and probably a ginger by the look of his complexion, but Justin couldn’t tell because of his protective garb. The goon’s nose turned up slightly like a pig’s, and his sneer reminded Justin of his alcoholic uncle, Vince.
“What’s wrong, pussy?” Pig Nose stepped closer, into Justin’s space.
Justin had always hated Uncle Vince.