The Ghost Mine

by Ben Wolf

  Justin plucked another tissue from the sheaf and blew his nose again. He was done crying. Gerhardt’s behavior had seen to that.

  Cry or don’t cry. It doesn’t change what happened to Keontae.

  Justin scowled. He wanted to silence his inner turmoil, but he didn’t know how.

  “If you want to know more about the path to salvation, I encourage you to speak with me later on. My office is at the spaceport, and my door is open any time.” The priest gave a sad smile. “With that, our service is concluded. May the peace of the Lord rest upon you all.”

  “And also with you,” Connie, Shannon, Stecker, and Oafy replied in unison. Must’ve been a church thing.

  The priest gave a slight bow and stepped to the side. Shannon and Harry stood up and headed over to Keontae’s picture on the handscreen. They stood there, looking at it for a moment. Harry stole a glance at his watch, and he nudged Shannon’s arm with his elbow. She nodded, and they turned toward the exit.

  But as they left, she gave Justin a wave and a half-smile.

  Tara and Misty stood up next. Justin hadn’t noticed until then, but tears had streaked down their cheeks and through their makeup. They clutched each others’ arms and stared down at Keontae’s picture, sobbing and shuddering quietly.

  Justin’s eyebrows raised, and he cracked a small smile. Only Keontae could make that big of an impression on two girls he’d met that same week.

  They turned back and approached Justin, and he stood. One of them—Misty, Justin thought—leaned close to him and whispered, “If you ever get lonely or need to talk, please give us a call. We’re hurting too, and we wouldn’t mind some company.”

  She slid a thin, Plastrex card into his hand. Justin looked down. It had contact information for both of them, plus the imprint of a pair of red lips.

  He looked at her and Tara. They had long legs, fit forms with great curves in all the right places, and gorgeous faces. They embodied everything a straight, red-blooded male would want. Justin might’ve been crazy, but he knew he’d never take them up on the offer.

  “Thanks. I’ll keep this in mind.”

  Misty cupped the back of his head with her hand, and kissed him right on his lips. When she let go, Justin stared up at her, wide-eyed. Then she and Tara left, arm-in-arm, the heels of their boots clacking on the hard floors.

  Stecker went up next, gave Keontae’s picture a nod, and turned toward Justin. Stecker patted him on the back and said, “Take it easy, kid.”

  Then Connie and Candy walked up, arm-in-arm like Tara and Misty. Connie mumbled something, crossed herself, and blew Keontae a kiss. Candy stood by her side, motionless. When they faced Justin, Connie had tears streaming down her face, and moisture clung to Candy’s eyes as well.

  Justin stood and met them in the middle.

  “He was a good kid.” Connie pulled Justin into another hug. She kissed his cheek and muttered, “And so are you. Don’t forget that, okay?”

  Fresh guilt stabbed his gut. “I’ll try.”

  Connie let him go, and Candy hugged him next, but far shorter than last time. She gave him a nod and then headed out of the cafeteria with Connie.

  Only Oafy and Gerhardt remained. Oafy assured the priest he’d be compensated for his time and services, but the priest shook his head.

  “I’ve made a personal decision not to accept payment for funerals and weddings. I’m here to help, and I’m here to serve.”

  “Have it your way, Father.” Gerhardt motioned toward Justin with his head but kept looking at the priest. “You mind if we take a minute alone with the bereaved? Last will and testament stuff.”

  “By all means.” The priest put his hand on Justin’s shoulder. “Remember, you can find me in the spaceport if you need me.”

  Justin nodded. “Thanks.”

  The priest collected his handscreen, switched it off, and headed for the cafeteria doors. The wreath of bright orange flowers lay there, limp like a dead body yet alive with color.

  “We’re very sorry for the loss of your friend,” Oafy said. “I can assure you, the whole ACM-1134 family is grieving right along with you.”

  I doubt it. Dirk and his goons came to mind. They probably didn’t care. They might’ve even been happy to see him go. And them aside, only eleven people had shown up to the memorial service, three of whom weren’t even from the mine.

  “Thanks,” Justin forced himself to say.

  “As Mr. Gerhardt said, the matter of Mr. Olu—Oluwe—”

  “Oh-loo-way-loo,” Justin enunciated. “Oluwelu.”

  “Yes. The matter of Mr. Oluwelu’s personal effects is what I’d like to discuss with you first.” Oafy took a Plastrex chair and motioned for Justin to sit as well.

  Justin sat, but Gerhardt kept standing. “Go ahead.”

  Over the next three minutes, Oafy established that according to Keontae’s employment contract, he’d specified Justin as his beneficiary for all of his possessions in the event of an accident. As such, Justin could keep any of Keontae’s personal property still in the dormitory that he wished. The rest, he could donate to any charity of his choosing, or he could simply throw it away.

  Justin wouldn’t get a new roommate until they hired a replacement for Keontae, and Oafy didn’t know how long it would be until they did.

  Keontae had also specified that he wanted his final paycheck to be sent to his mother in the Bortundi System. Per Galactic Coalition law, his accounts would revert to her name as she was his only next-of-kin.

  “Please ensure that any company-issued property comes back to ACM. If it started as company property, it ends as company property,” Oafy said.

  Justin rubbed his forehead. “Sure. Fine. Can you give me a list of what types of things that might encompass? I’m not really in the right frame of mind to scrutinize every little detail of what he left behind.”

  Was this even real? He was talking about Keontae in the past tense. Talking about dividing his stuff, sending his mother the remainder of his paychecks. It felt like he was dreaming.

  But he wasn’t.

  “I’ll send one to your ACM message account.”

  “Thank you. Are we done?”

  Oafy glanced at Gerhardt. “There is one other matter we need to discuss with you.”

  Justin’s heart beat faster. What now?

  “Anything you want to tell us about what happened?” Gerhardt folded his arms and stared down at Justin.

  Justin shook his head. “You guys got my statement the other day when I woke up.”

  “And you’re sure you didn’t leave anything out?” Gerhardt asked.

  Profanity rolled through Justin’s mind. He’s asking about the adrenalite pill. He knows, somehow. “I’m sure.”

  “Dr. Handabi’s medical report suggested you were substantially low on adrenaline.”

  “You’re looking at my medical records now?” Justin turned to Oafy. “Isn’t that supposed to be confidential?”

  “According to the employment contract you signed, ACM can access the medical records of any employee if the company feels it is necessary to do so for the employee’s wellbeing.”

  “So in other words, whenever you want to.”

  Oafy didn’t respond.

  “Great.” Justin just wanted to leave. To go back to his room and sleep, or do nothing. He wanted time to mourn.

  “Back to your adrenaline levels. They were low. Far lower than normal,” Gerhardt said.

  “So?”

  “So how do you account for that?”

  “The phichaloride gas from Sector 6—”

  “Mr. Barclay.” Oafy held up her hand. “I’ve asked you not to discuss that topic. And please keep your voice down. We’re in a common area.”

  How am I supposed to explain it if I can’t talk about it? Justin released his breath. “Anyway, I was worn out. Working a lot harder since my muscles were fatigued from—that. I’m not an expert on human biology, but I assume I burned a lot of adrenaline trying not to die.”<
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  “That’s your response?” Gerhard squinted at him.

  “Yes.”

  “Really? You’re going to roll with that?”

  Justin paused. Did Gerhardt have more, or not? “It’s the best explanation I have.”

  At least that part wasn’t a lie.

  Gerhardt nodded and grinned. “Because there’s a particular drug called adrenalite that gives a person a temporary boost of adrenaline production, only to be followed by a severe crash. The adrenal gland gets sapped to critically low levels…”

  Shit. Gerhardt knows. Justin clenched his jaw tight.

  “…and it leaves the person who took it feeling drained.” Gerhardt grinned at Justin. “You sure you’re not leaving something out?”

  “I’m appreciating the science lesson. I’m sure of that.” Justin mimicked Gerhardt’s false grin.

  Gerhardt frowned. “You want to play games? Fine. Dr. Handabi also recovered the packaging of a pill from your pocket while you were out. He had the droids analyze it, and they found trace residue of the elements that make up a standard adrenalite capsule.”

  Justin swallowed. Damn.

  “When I found that out, I checked the security footage from Sector 13 before your friend died. You know what I found?”

  Justin said nothing.

  Gerhardt pulled a handscreen from his back pocket and activated it. He held it up so Justin could watch. A video of the cavern began to play, and he recognized himself in it. The video zoomed in on him a little, and the picture was mostly clear, but there was still plenty of space around him in the frame, and he looked small by comparison.

  He stood, profile to the camera, wearing the hand-laser apparatus, and wobbling as he tried to work. Then he turned so his back faced the camera view, pulled something from his pocket, looked at it, and eventually opened his face shield and popped it into his mouth.

  But from that camera angle, it didn’t show him doing that. He could fill in the blanks because he’d done it, not because the video actually showed it. He hadn’t done it intentionally at the time, but because he’d turned away from the camera, they hadn’t caught him opening his face shield and popping the adrenalite in his mouth.

  That is, as long as they didn’t have another camera angle of him doing it.

  Gerhardt lowered the handscreen. “Why don’t you just tell us the truth, and we can move on from here?”

  Justin fought off a grin. Gerhardt thought he was slick, but if he’d had another angle of Justin actually taking the pill, he would’ve shown it. “Scroll a little farther ahead in the video.”

  “What?” Gerhardt eyed him.

  “You stopped it too soon. Let it play longer.”

  Gerhardt glanced at Oafy, and she nodded. He complied and held up the screen again. The video continued, and it showed Justin putting the pill packaging back in his pocket.

  “You can stop it now.”

  Gerhardt did. “So?”

  “So, congratulations. You caught me.”

  Gerhardt grinned. “I knew it. Your ass is fired, Barclay.”

  “I wasn’t finished,” Justin said.

  “What?” Gerhardt’s smile faded.

  “I was saying, you caught me with an empty pill package. I found it like that in my pocket when you first saw me take it out. I didn’t know what it was or where it came from, so I opened my face shield and sniffed it. That didn’t tell me anything, so I tucked it back into my pocket.” Justin looked at Oafy, then he turned to Gerhardt again. “I didn’t take any adrenalite pill because there wasn’t a pill to take.”

  A fresh pang of guilt for lying—and for Keontae’s death—gouged Justin’s gut, but were Keontae there, he would’ve done the exact same thing. Keontae would’ve understood that Justin was fighting for literally everything he had left.

  “Bullshit.” Gerhardt pointed at him. “You’re a terrible liar. You know that? You opened your face shield and took it. It’s obvious what you did.”

  Justin shook his head. “First of all, I’ll reiterate that I did not take an adrenalite pill. I never have, and I never will. My back is turned. How can you know for sure what I did or didn’t do? You can’t see if there’s anything in that packaging when I first pulled it out or when I put it back.”

  Gerhardt shook his head and started pacing. He pointed at Justin. “We’ve got more than enough to terminate your ass.”

  “Fire me, and ACM will have to answer for why they went against their own staff doctor’s orders to authorize an unwell employee to go back to heavy manual labor—only to have someone die as a result,” Justin fired back. “And that’s after ACM’s security system went down multiple times, another employee died because of a glitch in his medical records, and another has gone missing. Oh, and I almost got killed as well.”

  Gerhardt glowered at him. “How in the world could you possibly know about—”

  “Laithe.” Oafy’s stern voice silenced him.

  Justin stared directly at Oafy. “My head won’t be the only one that rolls once all of that gets out.”

  She sat there, her eyes slightly widened and her mouth open. She held up her hand. “Mr. Barclay, Mr. Gerhardt, please. We really should—”

  “You know, you’ve got a real problem with authority, Barclay.” Gerhardt stepped in close and pointed down at him.

  Justin stood and stared at him eye-to-eye. “Only when that authority blows hot air from its ass and tries to pass it off as brilliance.”

  Gerhardt grabbed Justin by his shirt with both hands and pulled him in closer. His rank breath heated Justin’s face.

  Justin spread his arms out wide. “Go ahead, Gerhardt. Hit me. Throw me to the ground. Then your cameras will catch the head of security abusing an employee without cause. Keep giving me ammunition for the lawsuit. Please.”

  “Gentlemen!” Oafy was on her feet by now, trying to separate them with her hands. She didn’t stand a chance. “That’s enough!”

  “One of these days, Barclay. You’re a shit employee, and one of these days, you’ll slip up. Then you’re gone, and I’ll personally throw you out.”

  “Good luck. I’ve got the incidents in Sector 6, Sector 13, and now you physically threatening me on my side. You’ve got a blurry video of nothing and me not actually looking at some secret files. And by the way, I now know that Dr. Stielbard’s injuries came from the last Sector 6 incident.”

  “Mr. Barclay!” Oafy snapped.

  Forget her. Justin continued, “It was from an explosion, but ACM told us it was a cave-in. I was in there, Gerhardt. You’ve got all sorts of bad things happening in this mine. What are you trying to cover up?”

  “Justin Barclay!” Oafy hissed. “Do not say another word about this!”

  Gerhardt shook him, and Justin laughed. Gerhardt jerked him to the side again and snarled. “You think this is funny? I had friends die in that incident. You’re a sick bastard.”

  Oafy stood there, her mouth totally agape. “Mr. Gerhardt, you absolutely cannot say anything else about this topic. We are done here. Mr. Barclay will report back to work only when Dr. Handabi has fully cleared him to do so, and not a moment before. This conversation is over.”

  Gerhardt didn’t release his grip on Justin.

  “I said this is over, Laithe,” Oafy growled.

  “Yeah, Gerhardt. It’s over.” Justin grinned. He’d have time to mourn later. Right now, he wanted to drive his point home.

  Gerhardt’s eyes ignited with fresh fire, but he released his grip on Justin and stepped back. Without a word, he stormed out of the cafeteria, leaving Justin and Oafy in his wake.

  Oafy shot a stern glare at Justin, then she, too, walked out of the cafeteria. He waved to them both from behind.

  Justin ran his hands over his shirt to straighten it out, collected the wreath of flowers, and headed back toward the dorm hall. On his way to his room, a bloodshot-eyed, wobbly Pinch tried to stop him, but Justin pushed past him. Pinch muttered a few curses but did nothing else.

&
nbsp; Dirk and his goons stood beyond Justin’s room, near Pig-Nose’s room. They were chatting, but when they noticed him approaching, they stopped and glared at him.

  Justin groaned to himself. He’d forgotten all about Dirk. Shannon hadn’t gotten him fired, and now, without Keontae, Justin was virtually alone. Connie and Candy would back him, of course, but it wasn’t the same as having Keontae around. Nothing ever would be.

  He glowered back at them and opened his door, still bent and contorted from the medical android who had jammed it open after the Sector 6 incident. It whooshed shut behind Justin, and he tossed the wreath of orange flowers onto the desk and collapsed on the lower of the two bunks.

  He’d re-secured his job by threatening to out ACM with whatever was happening, but in doing so, he’d further galvanized Gerhardt and, he had to assume, Oafy, against him. His suggestion that she’d be the first to get fired had ended the conversation, but he’d undoubtedly made a true enemy of her as well. He’d be looking for a new job soon, one way or another.

  Justin closed his eyes. Keontae was dead. Gone. And it was his fault. He’d saved Justin, and he’d given his life to do it.

  But Justin hadn’t deserved to be saved.

  He heard a faint rustling sound, and he opened his eyes. He looked at the Nebrandt plants on the table. One of them was moving.

  He stood up and hurried over to them. Instead of the little blue sprouts he’d noticed days earlier, they’d grown into short stems with buds on their ends, and now one of them had begun to open up.

  It unfurled before his eyes into a purple-and-blue flower speckled with bright green and black dots. Its shape resembled that of an orchid, but the colors were unlike anything Justin had ever seen in nature. Three red stems extended from the flower’s concave center, which was also a deep red color. It opened fully, and then it stopped, basking in its newborn glory.

  Keontae had been right. It was one of the most beautiful things Justin had ever seen.

  And Keontae had missed it.

  Justin sank to his hands and knees, laid his face on the floor, and let the emotions flow.