“I guess you win the pot,” he called over his shoulder to one of his companions farther inside. “She didn’t die.” He turned back to her. “Stay there; I don’t want you tracking your filth in here.” He stepped down onto the entryway floor, crowding her to one side. “You finished your repairs?” Morgan nodded curtly. “Right before the explosion?” Again she nodded. “Anything else?”
“The blast broke my lamp, sir,” Morgan said, opening her hand for him to see. He took it, looked it over, and then tossed it inside where his companion caught it. “Fine.”
The companion reached over his shoulder for a fresh one, then tossed it to him. He slapped it on Morgan’s helmet, clicking it on and off. “Get out of here then.”
Morgan turned to leave when he spoke up, “Oh, one more thing.” Morgan began to turn, but his backhand caught her in the side of the face before she was a quarter of the way around. She fell to the ground, her face stinging enough that she was pretty sure he’d broken the skin. “There are still penalties for being late. Don’t forget that.”
He had returned inside before she could scramble to her feet, the door sealing the dusty air of the mine out. Morgan did nothing, said nothing. She was already two hours into her off time, and if she was to be back here in the morning able to work, she needed to get home, get cleaned up, and get to bed. The guards let her into the cage, and she traveled up to the surface, alone.
At least tonight she could go straight home. For once her parents weren’t working into the night. Hopefully they still had enough of the ointment, given the number of cuts and scrapes she’d gotten that shift and how much they’d used the day before.
***
Morgan was tucked into bed, the drowsiness of exhaustion and medicine having finally won over the aches and stings of her cuts, when her parents’ voices intruded, raised in heated discussion.
“Rachel, this is crazy. It’ll never work. They’ll catch us and make examples of us. If we’re lucky.”
“Sam, we’re not going to get another chance like this. At least not before the comrades marry her off. You’re the one who convinced me we needed to get her off-world. Can you think of any other way to do that, other than bribing one of the managers?”
“No.”
“And do we have enough to bribe the manager?”
“From me? Of course not.”
“We can do this, Sam. Think on what happens when we pull it off. Think about the life she’ll be able to have.”
“But what happens to her if we get caught?”
“What happens the next time there is an accident down there? I can’t see her like that again, Sam. We were lucky this time. And all that a day after some thugs broke in here. A day.”
Footsteps sounded close to Morgan, and she shut her eyes more tightly, pretending to be asleep.
“Morgan, honey, you need to get up,” her momma’s hand gently touched Morgan’s shoulder, unwittingly putting pressure on a couple of her bruises. Morgan suppressed a wince.
Morgan thought about asking why or protesting that she’d only just gone to bed, but only for a bare moment. She knew her parents would never hurt her, but some lessons about surviving the mines were too ingrained to be ignored.
Instead she climbed out from under the scratchy blanket and began stepping into her spare coveralls and shoes. Tossing her nightgown onto the bed she pulled her clothes the rest of the way on, with some difficulty. Her spare coveralls were spare because they were simply too small for her, even more so than her main pair. Of course, after the day she’d had the spare was probably in better shape overall. Hopefully the other could be fixed – she couldn’t do up the spare all the way thanks to the too tight neck, and the sleeves and legs only reached just past her elbows and knees.
Clothes on, she ran her hands through her hair to at least get some of the tangles out and get it out of her eyes. It wasn’t very long hair, by design, but it always seemed to get in the way anyway.
“Morgan, you remember us talking about how Daddy is going to go to the station to fix something?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’re going to go with him too. Only, I need you to trust me and do exactly what I say.”
“I think there’s enough space, Rachel.” There was a crash from the main room, but Morgan couldn’t see anything with the curtain separating it from the two small sleeping rooms down. Momma gestured forwards and they walked the few paces to join him. Daddy’s big toolkit was on the table, the one with all his special tools no one else in town knew how to use. Well, officially. Morgan had been taught what almost all of them did over the last couple of years, not that she’d ever had a chance to use them.
Now most of the tools were scattered on the floor, the trays shoved on the table in a pile. He grimaced as he looked at the two of them. He heaved the mostly empty toolkit onto the floor, the wheels rattling as they struck a stay stone that had been missed the last time Morgan had swept.
He took Morgan’s hand in his massive calloused hands, squeezing hers tightly.
“Morgan, I need you to get in the toolkit. If you pull your legs up to your chest and tuck your head down you should fit.”
This was so odd a request that Morgan had to be sure she heard right. “You want me to get in there?”
“Yes Baby Girl, I want you to get in there. It’s the only way to get you up to the station with me, and that’s very important. Now,” he paused unexpectedly, with a look on his face Morgan had never seen before. It sort of looked like he was in pain, but nothing hurt her daddy, he was too strong for that. “Now, you’re going to be in there for a while, so go use the bathroom first, and then Momma will have some food for you. Take anything important to you with you, as long as it is small. You need to hurry though.”
Morgan did as he asked, grabbing the small picture of the three of them from her tiny box of things; her bracelet was still on her wrist of course. The food was cold soup momma had brought back from work, but it was almost as good cold anyway. The bowl was almost overflowing it was so full; it had to be most of what she’d brought home.
“What about you?” She asked, looking at the food.
“We already ate,” Momma said. Her voice sounded funny too, but Morgan didn’t know why.
Food eaten, Morgan went over to the kit. She wasn’t sure the best way to fit in there, so she just stood inside and went to crouch down.
“One moment, honey. Let me say goodbye.” Momma grabbed Morgan in a big hug, squeezing her tight. With the thick bottom of the box beneath her feet, she was almost as tall as Momma. It felt weird. She kissed Morgan’s cheeks, then rested her cheek against Morgan’s forehead. “Now, you need to be brave, and stay quiet. Daddy will explain what he can while you travel on the train, but you’re going away. We love you so much, but we can’t give you what you deserve here.”
“But no one leaves.” Finally Morgan realized why they were putting her in the box. She would have realized it earlier if the mere idea hadn’t been so unthinkable for her. “You’re going to sneak me out? How? Why?”
Morgan’s head began to swim. Actually get off Hillman? To get away from the mines and Tinnys and everything else? Sure, she’d just barely been talking about it with Jane. To actually do it, though? Her swimming head turned into a dizzying array of fevered imaginations, each more outlandish than the last as she tried to imagine even a glimmer of what life beyond the mines could be.
“We don’t have time, honey; Daddy needs to get over there soon for his ride. There’s a ship at the space station picking up ore right now. We’re going to get you on it before they leave. Now,” she paused for emphasis, “When they ask how old you are, you need to tell them you’re twenty-six.” Momma paused again; her fingers twitching as she mentally did some math. “Uh. . . seventeen. Tell them you’re seventeen in Earth years. If they think you’re almost grown, you can just find a job and live on your own. If they know you’re still a child they’ll want to put you in a home, and we can’t know what kind of people they’l
l be. They could be nice, or not.”
“Rachel, we’re running out of time.”
“Oh, Morgan. Be brave.” She released Morgan from the hug, then went to step back. Before she could Morgan grabbed her in a hug of her own, burying her face against Momma’s neck.
“I love you, Momma,” she said, tears in her eyes.
“I know, baby. Don’t you worry about us. We’ll be fine. Every time we get lonely we’ll think about all the amazing things you’ll be doing, and we’ll be happy too.”
Momma helped Morgan cram into the box, her back against the side with her knees all the way up against her chest with her head resting on them. Daddy put some of the trays back in, covering Morgan up. Some of the tools went in next, and then he shut the lid.
“Get over there, Sam. I’ll circle around and be ready to distract them when you get to the checkpoint. I’ll move faster without the kit to pull.”
“Be careful.”
“Only for as long as I need to be.”
With a grunt Daddy picked up the kit by the handle, tilting Morgan’s world uncomfortably. Time was hard to gauge while slanted sideways in a dark box, but Morgan guessed it was something like a quarter hour before they got to the open field just outside of town where the train’s loading station was. Having walked past it many times she knew there was a tall wire fence surrounding the field at a distance of some two hundred meters. It had a single large gate with a smaller person-sized one set inside that, guarded by at least two Tinnys with others walking the perimeter.
“Hey, think we could hurry this up? I’d like to be on the train before my wife catches up to me,” Daddy said to the guards, the toolkit shaking as he did something with his hands that made the guards laugh.
“We’ll try, but no promises.”
“Get back here you bastard! Did you think I wouldn’t find out about that two-bit whore you have stashed away across town?” Why was Momma saying this to Daddy? Morgan had never heard her sound this angry before.
“Oh like you care.”
There was a thudding sound, and the toolkit dropped flat onto its side. Morgan stayed quiet, not an easy feat. What was going on? What were her parents up to?
“Step back,” the guard said, any trace of emotion gone from his voice. “I don’t care what he did, or you did, any of it. He’s needed up top, and that’s the end of it.”
“He’s not getting away from me that easily!” Momma was shouting, but she wasn’t as close anymore.
“Buddy, just get me on board. She won’t stick around once she can’t get at me anymore.”
“Yeah, better hurry up.” The kit was picked up by the handle again, “Wow, this thing is heavier than it looks. Glad I don’t need to carry it around.”
“Thanks, I’ll head straight in. Don’t worry about the punch. She’s just mad right now. I’m sure by the time I come back she’ll be over it.”
“Like I said, do your work and I don’t care. Now get out of here.”
***
The train ride was several hours long. Long, long, long. Definitely the right word for it. Morgan could hear two or three other people moving about in the car with Daddy. Her limbs ached from sitting so still in the cramped space, but there wasn’t any way for him to get her out for a stretch. Morgan supposed he could have gone to the restroom, but taking his tools with him would have been suspicious.
“So where are you headed?” he asked them.
“We’re being rotated to the station for guard duty. Reward for fewest problems on our shift.”
“Congratulations,” Daddy said warmly. It sounded like he was sliding down in his seat, getting comfortable. “I’m headed that way myself, some repair work.”
“You’re an engineer? I thought all of them lived up there?”
“Each town needs someone to keep the equipment running, don’t they?” Morgan could practically hear him shrugging. He probably sounded just as friendly as before to the unfamiliar guards, but Morgan could tell most of his tone was an act.
“Oh. You’re that guy.” Morgan recognized that tone easily enough.
“That guy.” Daddy sighed. “We all pay for our mistakes. Or other people’s.” Morgan doubted the guards had heard the second bit, muttered as it was. “Still, without me, more of you guards would be stuck out in the towns.” There was sadness in his voice, enough that the other man noticed.
“So this is what? More punishment? Bring you up to the station to see what you’ve lost?”
Daddy didn’t respond for long enough that Morgan thought he wasn’t going to.
“No, they actually do need me to fix something. I helped design the train system down here, and they just duplicated it for the station. You see, magnetic suspension trains have been around for a long time, but we couldn’t use them here, because of the high gravity. Anti-gravity plates can’t fight a planet’s gravity enough to work on their own, especially here, but they also don’t work well near electromagnets powerful enough for something like a train system. So we needed shuttle pads pretty much everywhere.”
“With guards.”
“Exactly. What I did. . . well, me and a couple other engineers. . . was figure out a way to get the anti-gravity to work with the mag system, so the trains are light enough to actually move.”
The third person, the guard Morgan hadn’t heard speak yet, snorted.
“Whatever. I’m trying to sleep here man, just shut it.”
“Sorry. I get restless easily, and I talk to help the time pass by.”
“Well talk somewhere else then. I’m not wasting a chance to rest.”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll just move to the next car.” Morgan’s world tilted as he grabbed the tool kit by the handle. “Enjoy your nap.”
It was a bumpy trip thanks to the metal grate floor, punctuated by a couple pauses as they moved through the doors separating the cars. At last the kit was brought back upright and the lid opened, the trays moved onto the bench beside them.
“Sorry that took so long, Morgan. I had to make it look it was their idea.”
Morgan tried to unfold herself from the box, but found her muscles uncooperative. Her limbs felt like rubber where they weren’t numb entirely. Daddy scooped her out of the box, propping her against his own body to help keep her upright. Feeling returning to her extremities as pins and needles first was not fun at all, but it still beat being in the box.
Not that there was much to see in the train car. Metal walls with no windows enclosed a narrow cabin bare except for some benches and a small bathroom. The doors at each end were more featureless metal save for the handle, and the floor was grating over the machinery below, dimly lit here and there by status lights and small displays.
“I hate to say it, but we can’t risk you being out too long. I’ll let you out again when we’re almost to the launch pad so you can use the restroom and eat something, but there’s no telling when the guards in the other room – or anyone else – might wander by.” He looked down at Morgan and smiled. “I think we can risk it for at least a few minutes though.”
“So why do we live in Pari?”
Daddy sighed, helping Morgan sit down. She rubbed her arms, trying to get feeling back a little quicker, and gestured for him to answer.
“It’s not something I wanted to tell you about.”
“There won’t be another time.”
“I’m afraid.”
Morgan made an incredulous sound.
He laughed, though there was no mirth in it. “I know. Dads shouldn’t be afraid of anything. At least not where the kids can see. The truth is I’m afraid of lots of things. The biggest one is losing your mother or you.”
“Isn’t that what is happening now?”
“Yes?” He drew out the sounds, turning the answer into a question. “We’re sending you away so you can have a better life, but you’re still our girl. This? I’m afraid that when you find out you’ll never be able to forgive me. That is far worse than merely never seeing you again.”<
br />
“Nothing could ever make me hate you, Daddy.” She hugged him about the knees as tightly as she could with her still-tingling arms.
He laughed again, much more naturally. He put one calloused hand on her head, messing up her short hair.
“The faith of a little girl is a wonderful thing.”
“I don’t know that word,” Morgan said, looking up at him with one raised eyebrow.
“No, you wouldn’t. It’s one of the forbidden words. So many things were hidden or destroyed to keep people from questioning the comrades.”
“But we all question them.”
“Yes, well, all too often the success or failure of a plan is not taken into account, especially by people like the comrades.”
“And the word?”
“It’s a religious word. It means. . . it means that you know something, but don’t really have any solid evidence to back it up. You can’t know the future, can’t know what I’ll do or have done, but you have faith that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
Morgan thought about asking what religious meant, but that question was just another distraction from what she wanted to know.
“So, what happened?”
He sighed and moved over to sit next to her.
“You know I didn’t grow up in Pari Passu, that I never worked the mines as a child? Instead I went to school.”
“To become an engineer?”
“Eventually, yes. My parents were both party members, but not like the Tinny brutes you know. They honestly believed in building a fair society, where everyone had what they needed and worked as they were able.
“It’s a great feeling, Morgan. To be doing work that will help everyone. I thought the train project would be the start of improving everyone’s life, a way to start making mining less labor intensive. Mag-lev married to anti-gravity could be used for so much more than the trains. They could have built drones and robots to take over much of the mining, and especially transporting the ore. The technology is quite old; we just needed better ways to adapt it to the high gravity of Hillman.”
“Then why didn’t they?”
“Control. Greed. I don’t know, Morgan. Why do men do anything to each other? It’s easy to keep the majority of the people from demanding too much if they’re ignorant and exhausted. With drones and robots the workers wouldn’t even need to be on the mountain. The workers could even live on the station and work from there. But of course there isn’t room up there for everyone. The resources that the party members use to keep themselves as comfortable as anyone can be on this planet wouldn’t stretch very far if it had to be distributed to everyone.”
The Long Black (The Black Chronicles Book 1) Page 4