Pariah

by W. Michael Gear

  “We’ll work with what we’ve got, my friend.” Kalico mollified herself by patting the gleaming copper at the outside of the deposit where it surrendered to greenish rock.

  “Supervisor?” O’Hanley’s voice asked through her com.

  “Here.”

  “We’ve got an aircar coming from the south. Weak signal. Talina Perez is asking for permission to land. Says that she’s about out of battery.”

  “Roger that. Put her over by the fence. I’ll be up in about ten minutes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You heard?” she asked Ghosh.

  “Yes. Go.”

  “Yeah, let me guess. You’re just happy to have me out of the suit and somebody productive back in it.”

  Ghosh was grinning at her through his face mask. “The thought never crossed my mind. But do remember the protocol. Follow Desh’s instructions while they decontaminate you.”

  She raised a gloved hand and saluted, seeing a flash of Ghosh’s teeth in return.

  Making her way back up the tunnel, it surprised her that she no longer reacted to the gleaming threads of gold that ran through the rock. In one day her smelter turned out more than the combined mines on Earth, Luna, Mars, and in the asteroids. And they were doing it out of two holes, with a makeshift aerial tram, and a smelter that only ran part time because she had a cobbled-together reactor.

  At the plastic, she passed through into an ad hoc washroom where her suit was sprayed down, the water collected, and a blower finished the job of drying and removing droplets.

  Next she stepped out into a lantern-lit dressing room. Yes, lantern-lit. The light came from an old-fashioned lantern made in PA that burned kerosene distilled from crude oil that came from west of the Wind Mountains. She didn’t have enough electric lights to illuminate the entire mine.

  “Did you see it?” Desh Ituri asked as she removed the hood. “What did you think?”

  “I was thinking we could buy Transluna if we had that whole deposit back in Solar System. How’d you like that? Your own high-rise overlooking the business district?”

  Ituri’s dark face lit with a smile. “What are we gonna do with all those pesky Boardmembers? They might not sell.”

  “Maybe sic some Wild Ones on them. That’d send fear through their soft bones, wouldn’t it?”

  Ituri helped her out of the suit, handed it to Talovich.

  “What do you think it’s going to take to stope that out?” she asked.

  Ituri glanced at Talovich, who was wasting no time putting the suit on. “We’re working on that. The trick is to get it out without breaking it up too much. Every surface we create exposes more of it to oxidation. And we can’t be contaminating the rest of the mine with beryllium dust in the process.”

  “We might want to ferry the pure stuff up to orbit,” Talovich said. “Storing it in vacuum would solve a lot of problems.”

  “Just got to fabricate the containers,” Ituri agreed. “We’ve got credit for that carbon-fiber cable we made for PA, right? Maybe I can get with Lawson to make us custom containers. We could peel the beryllium right out of the rock, box it, and ship it.”

  “Whatever you need,” she told them as she took her pistol and utility belt down from a peg driven into the rock.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Talovich gave a smile and a salute before slipping through the plastic.

  “How’s ventilation?” she asked.

  “Got a hose running up to the surface.” Ituri rubbed the back of his head. “Not the best of solutions since it’s venting out on the other side of the fence, but as long as people stay away, it’s going to oxidize relatively quickly.”

  “There might be something we haven’t inventoried in the Freelander cargo that would help. I’ll see.”

  She turned, rode the skip back to the main shaft, and took the lift to the surface.

  When she stepped out from under the head frame, it was to see Talina Perez, her butt braced against the side of her battered old aircar. The woman grinned, ran fingers through windblown black hair, and propped her hand on her pistol.

  Beside her, a skinny ragamuffin of a blond girl had her arms crossed, tangles of hair falling over her shoulders and down her back. The kid was in rags. Almost to the point of indecency given the location of the rents and holes. Kalico had seen more prosperous-looking urchins in the streets of Mumbai.

  “Talina, what brings you to my little corner of Donovan?”

  “Had to flee Mundo this morning.” She indicated the little girl. “You remember Kylee Simonov?”

  Kalico allowed herself a surprised smile. “Hello, Kylee.”

  If chaos and death could be concentrated, it was in the girl’s hard glare. She seemed to be smoldering.

  “We’re about out of charge in the aircar,” Talina said. “We had to make a hasty exit from Mundo this morning. Not only did the quetzal situation fall apart, but a huge flock of mobbers appeared this morning. Look at the gouges those little bastards cut into the sialon on my air crate.”

  “That close, huh?”

  Talina grinned. “Yeah. Had to do a bit of dicey flying. But, for the record, mobbers top out a hundred and ten, and can only maintain it for about four minutes before they start to flag.”

  Kalico couldn’t help it; she absently fingered one of the scars running along her cheek, her eyes turning to the south. “Any way they could have followed you?”

  “I don’t think so. We ran north at one hundred and thirty, and they turned back toward Mundo a couple of kilometers this side of the base. Better pickings. They had two quetzals to hunt and the better part of a corpse to scavenge.”

  Kalico really got a close look at Kylee. The kid looked like she hadn’t had a real bath in forever. Hostility and frustration glittered behind those peculiar eyes. Something about them wasn’t quite . . . human?

  To her com, Kalico said, “Have Stryski wheel Security Officer Perez’s aircar over and give it a charge and a check over.”

  “Roger that,” O’Hanley replied.

  To Talina she said, “You eaten?”

  “We shared a couple of cups of stew on the way up.”

  Kalico fixed on Kylee. “You got a change of clothes?”

  The girl’s jaws bunched, eyes narrowing.

  “She talk?” Kalico asked Talina.

  “Yeah. But give her a break. She’s taken a couple of hard hits. One after another. And I’m not doing so well, either.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Too many damn quetzals in my head. Hard to concentrate. Half the time I’m on the verge of tears, the other half I’m wanting to shoot something.”

  “I heard that you were responsible for the negligent discharge of a firearm up in PA.”

  “Thought I was shooting a hole in Sian Hmong.”

  “Schoolteacher, isn’t she?”

  “You have to be careful about schoolteachers; they’re more dangerous than you’d think. And you never know what they’re pouring into the heads of these impressionable young kids.” Talina winced. “What’s Raya saying about me?”

  “I wouldn’t go asking her for an emergency appendectomy for a while. And Trish is on a holy tear.”

  Talina avoided her eyes. “Yeah, I’m figuring Kylee and I better stick to the bush for a while.”

  “Where are you going to go?”

  “Haven’t a clue. Mundo’s out of the question. Maybe Rork Springs. Two Falls Gap is another possibility. Someplace where I can’t hurt anyone if I go nuts again. I’d consider dropping Kylee with her mom at PA, but trust me, that would be a recipe for disaster.”

  “I could put you up here. Dya’s due tomorrow for her rotation in the clinic. Hard to picture Corporate Mine as a halfway house, but we could think up something.”

  Kalico caught the panicked flash as Kylee shot a horrified look at Tali
na.

  “Thanks, Kalico. I appreciate that. But really, Kylee and I need a little more time out and away from people. We’re both what you’d call brittle around the edges.”

  “You heard about the ship?”

  “What ship?”

  “Vixen showed up out of the blue. You know, the one that was lost over fifty years ago. Survey ship sent here after Tempest. Crew hasn’t aged. They claim it was an instantaneous transition from Solar System to here. Well, but for the small problem that we perceive it as fifty years. Puts a whole new wrinkle on symmetry inversions. I’m still trying to get my head around what it means for us.”

  “No shit? Just popped in and thought it was like, yesterday.”

  “That’s about the size of it.” Kalico arched an eyebrow. “You have any inclination to shoot me?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I haven’t eaten. Want chicken-fried steak? Maybe a falafel? A Shanghai stir fry? Maybe finish it all off with a cup of coffee?”

  “You shitting me?”

  “Nope. Requisitioned Vixen’s rations. Torgussen’s Corporate. He didn’t even protest, just shipped it all down. In return I told him he was getting fresh vegetables.”

  “Yes, feed me. I’ll give you my soul in return.”

  “And you think that will entice me? Talk about the bottom of the barrel.”

  Kalico glanced at the girl. “And I’m betting we can find some decent clothes for Kylee, too.”

  The little girl looked daggers at Kalico.

  “What did I do?”

  “Deb Spiro worked for you,” Talina said softly.

  Kalico bent down, eyes level with the little girl’s. Unflinching. “I liked Rocket. I thought he was remarkable. Spiro disobeyed my orders when she shot Rocket. After she did, she knew enough to never return here. If she had, I would have shot her myself. We clear on that?”

  The little girl’s gaze softened. Not much. But a little, and she gave Kalico a faint nod of acceptance.

  So, Talina and the kid were headed back out into the bush? That was about as crazy as things went on Donovan. But, Talina wasn’t one of hers. With that, Kalico turned and headed for the dome, Talina pressing close behind. Must have been the offer of coffee.

  39

  It’s just a toilet-sucking school! Dan Wirth stomped his way down the avenue in time with the grinding of his teeth. Beside him, the normally taciturn Hofer kept pace. The builder had an odd expression on his face, like he was choking on something amusing.

  “Interesting morning, huh?” Hofer finally said.

  Dan gave him an expansive gesture. “What’s so damn hard about it? Build the fricking building, put the little rat chasers inside, and stuff it with a couple of teachers to educate the screaming imps on how to generate wealth from Donovan’s vast resources. What am I missing?”

  Which, of course, was the long-term plan. The more wealth Donovan generated, the more successful the colony, the more Dan could rake out for his own gain. It wasn’t exactly like computing inverse symmetry probability. Hardly a mentally challenging feat of comprehension.

  “But no!” he cried out, gesturing with knotted fists. “Way too fucking early this morning, who gets a call? I do. Amal Oshanti and Friga Dushku. ‘Mr. Wirth, we need to see you at the school.’

  “And what do I do? I drag my chapped butt out of a nice comfy bed, where I’m snuggled up around Allison’s soft warm ass. I miss my morning tea and go confront those two sorry slits. And what do I hear? ‘We need a science lab. Not enough common space. Gotta change this. Gotta change that.’

  “Can I tell them to go screw themselves with broomsticks? No. They’re the ‘good people.’ Solid members of the community.” He almost bellowed the words, “Looked up to!”

  Dan shook his head. “As if, by virtue of being successful breeders, teachers, and home builders, that makes them pillars of the community? So what if they’re the only benighted souls in PA who’ve got the patience to work with the yelling little vermin?”

  “It’s just a few changes, Dan,” Hofer said easily.

  “A few changes? We’re moving two fucking walls!” Again he mimicked their voices, ‘Oh, no, Mr. Wirth, this just won’t do. We need a larger community area. But, Mr. Wirth, the visual projection and VR space won’t accommodate the number of students we anticipate in the future.’”

  “I’ll give a call to O’Hanley. See if Corporate can’t shuttle up another load of logs on its next trip north. Lee Halston can run them through his mill, won’t take but another week.”

  “Who the fuck knows what Aguila’s going to charge me? And then you’ve got to get the damn stone. It’s another five hundred square feet. And I’ve got to pay to have Vanveer’s shed and dome moved.”

  “So, what? Aguila’s people are going to be having kids soon. I heard four of the women down there are pregnant. They gotta go to school somewhere. I got kids, I know.”

  “You got kids? Yeah. Thirty light-years away where some other asshole is educating them.” Dan shot the grumpy builder a sidelong look. “So, what was it? Back in the beginning, you were one of the loudest bastards, hollering to be shipped back to Solar System and your wife and family.”

  Hofer’s brows lowered, gaze distant. “Freelander. Spooked the shit out of me. Now with Vixen? I’m even gladder I stayed. Maybe I don’t miss Agnes so much. Fact is the woman’s a pain in my ass. But I wonder about the kids. Pete and Mary. They’re mostly grown now.” He grinned. “Since I’m out of system, and way beyond contract, their benefits are outstanding. Me being on this miserable rock is probably the best thing I ever could have done for them.”

  As they came even with The Jewel, Wirth said, “All right, do it. Make the fucking school however those witches want it. Just get it done and get them the fuck out of my life.”

  Hofer, failing to hide his amusement, said, “Well, it’s not like you can’t raise the take on the tables for a couple of weeks to cover the expense.”

  “Hey, married man, maybe I’ll just raise the cost of tail over at Betty Able’s. Charge an extra fifty SDRs for a fuck. For everybody except you. I hear you’re dropping in about three times a week to bang Flossey. For you it could be an extra hundred just on account of.”

  Hofer shrugged, nonplussed. “Yeah, that’s fine. I think, however, I see an unforeseen increase in expenses on the school coming, Dan. About an extra three hundred a week.”

  “Ya gotta love a free-market economy. I begin to see the lure of inflation and why those Corporate bastards back in Solar System outlawed it.”

  Giving Hofer a salute with flicked fingers, Dan stepped into The Jewel to find Shin Wong, his best faro dealer, wiping down the tables. Allison was at a back table, leaning forward on her elbows, laughing at something Tamarland Benteen was saying.

  Stepping over to the bar, Dan asked, “Art, how long’s the soft meat been in?”

  “Since just after opening, boss.” Maniken shot a disapproving glance toward Benteen. “Seems like every time you’re out, he’s hitting on Ali. The guy’s a slug. Buys a beer, nurses it until some of the locals come in. Then he gets to telling stories about shit he’s done with that Boardmember, and they buy him another drink that he nurses. He sits in, but doesn’t gamble much, tells more stories. Slows the games. House take is down about fifteen percent when he’s at a table.”

  “Pour me two whiskeys.”

  Art took down the house bottle and poured a finger into each tumbler before handing them over.

  Taking the glasses, Dan ambled over to Allison’s table, smiled, and said, “Ali, my love, I’d call you an angel if you’d wander over to the cafeteria and bring me a plate of breakfast. The charming Mr. Benteen and I are going to toast the morning and have a little chat.”

  “Anything special you want?” Allison asked as she rose, the faintest trace of worry behind her blue eyes.

  “W
hatever Millie’s serving up. Good to give her a little business given what Inga has carved out of her traffic.”

  He watched her walk away, admiring the curves and swing of her hips. As he dropped into the chair, he said, “Ah, the wonder of that woman. Still leaves me breathless.”

  Dan slid the whiskey in Benteen’s direction. “On the house.”

  Benteen took it, a sliver of smile on his lips. The man lifted the glass, inhaled through his mouth—as only real whiskey drinkers did—and savored the aroma. “Must be difficult to make a palatable whiskey without oak to age it in. Still, there’s something about it, a sweet almost spice rather than fruitiness. Like no whiskey I’ve ever tasted, and believe me, I’ve had opportunity to taste the best. Ship this back as a limited batch reserve and you could sell it for a fortune in the finer establishments.”

  “Inga makes do. That chickenshit sawyer, Lee Halston, cuts the staves, makes her barrels from aquajade, then chars them. That’s the unusual aroma and taste. Here’s to balls, buttocks, and bitches.”

  Dan raised his glass in toast and took a sip as Benteen did the same.

  “My thanks for the morning libation.” Benteen leaned back in his chair, wary eyes on Dan’s. “I’ve come to develop an appreciation for what you’ve built here. My compliments.”

  “You should try building a school.”

  “That’s for menials.”

  Dan felt that cold calming of his heart and the slowing of his pulse. His vision took on that old familiar clarity of focus as he studied Benteen. The man seemed oddly oblivious, totally at ease. Either the fool didn’t get it, or he was so damned confident of himself he knew just what he was doing.

  “I’ve come to consider The Jewel as refuge,” Benteen continued.

  “Yeah, well, that seems to be something of a problem. I don’t run a refuge. Might not be a bad idea, Donovan being what it is, but I don’t see any money in it. And that’s a key word. Money. SDRs, sidders, coin, plunder, whatever you want to call it. You’re not adding significantly to the take. It seems that the few drinks you cadge along the side don’t make up for what your loquacious proclivities detract from real drinking and gambling. Tell me if I’m outpacing your comprehension here.”