it in their eyes.
‘So,’ says Mic. ‘Where did they scoop you?’
Our conversation is getting weirder by the second. But there are times you stay quiet, and this is one of them. So I hold my tongue and try to look interested, but not too interested. Not like, maybe, I don’t have the faintest fuck what he’s talking about.
‘Us,’ he says, ‘they got us right outside a mine.’
I grunt something. I hope it sounds sympathetic.
‘Used to do asteroids,’ he says. ‘All that suiting up and shit, the stale air and long months in tin cans. Gave it up. I mean . . .’ The upturn of his hands says, come on . ‘Why bother, if you can get rich on the ground.’
‘Legally?’ asks Colonel Vijay.
Mic’s eyes narrow. ‘No problem, either way,’ I assure him.
‘Illegal is quicker.’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘And if you get high enough to call yourself emperor, or senator or glorious uplift, you can announce it’s not a crime anyway.’
Mic grins sourly.
We agree here. ‘So,’ I say. ‘They scooped you?’
‘Yeah, right outside our mine. All these fucks with guns are standing in a circle glaring at us. It must have been the same for you. All those warnings about not trying to escape . . .’
‘Right,’ I say. ‘I hate that.’
‘So they took us back to the camp. And then let us out in work details to dig their damn trenches and fix their pipes . . . Took me a while to work out what was happening.’
‘And then?’ I say, thinking, give me a clue here .
Something bleak enters Mic’s eyes. ‘When we struck for more food, they killed five the first hour, five the next, five the hour after . . . Chosen at random. So we killed the guards, cut the wire and this is what’s left.’
He gestures to three people, who are all that remain of his group.
They walk towards us slowly. If I were them, I wouldn’t trust us either.
His group turns out to be one woman and two men. Mic doesn’t introduce them and I don’t ask. If anything, they look worse than he does.
———
We give the ejército a water bottle and march them into the shade of an overhang. Then, while Shil and Franc keep their rifles trained, Neen walks along the line with a shovel and breaks the left ankle of every one.
‘Here,’ he says, giving Mic back his shovel.
‘My pleasure.’
The colonel’s furious. Since it’s already done, I can’t see his point. ‘It’s barbaric,’ he tells me. He is so cross he insists we have the conversation in private.
‘Your decision, sir.’
He scowls at me.
‘We’ve no cuffs, no rope, and you said I couldn’t kill them. With respect, what the fuck was I meant to do?’
Saluting smartly, I leave him with the question.
The ejército yell at us as we head out. All the usual insults. There are x million suns and x million planets, yet all you ever get is insults about your mother, your sister and your girlfriend. Well, the first two are dead, and I don’t have a third so I’m not too bothered. But I translate them anyway, just for the pleasure of watching Colonel Vijay’s lips tighten.
As the afternoon goes on, Mic trails further and further behind. Until our only choice is, leave him or make camp and wait. When he finally arrives, Shil has a fire burning, Neen has caught what looks like a dog, Franc has gutted the beast, seasoned it with bark and has a stick stuffed up one end and out the other.
We offer the prospectors meat, and give them the wine from Pavel’s flask. It does little good. One dies in the night. He’s old, with skin that looks like cheaply cured leather.
We find him at first light. Back against a rock and face towards the sun. I know, it’s reflection in a mirror . . . light enters Hekati through chevron safety glass and servomotors in the hub shift huge silvered sheets to create the illusion.
It still looks like dawn to me.
He has stripped off his shirt and lesions disfigure his chest. The skin over his gut is purple as if the corruption set in long before he
‘So,’ says Mic. ‘Where did they scoop you?’
Our conversation is getting weirder by the second. But there are times you stay quiet, and this is one of them. So I hold my tongue and try to look interested, but not too interested. Not like, maybe, I don’t have the faintest fuck what he’s talking about.
‘Us,’ he says, ‘they got us right outside a mine.’
I grunt something. I hope it sounds sympathetic.
‘Used to do asteroids,’ he says. ‘All that suiting up and shit, the stale air and long months in tin cans. Gave it up. I mean . . .’ The upturn of his hands says, come on . ‘Why bother, if you can get rich on the ground.’
‘Legally?’ asks Colonel Vijay.
Mic’s eyes narrow. ‘No problem, either way,’ I assure him.
‘Illegal is quicker.’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘And if you get high enough to call yourself emperor, or senator or glorious uplift, you can announce it’s not a crime anyway.’
Mic grins sourly.
We agree here. ‘So,’ I say. ‘They scooped you?’
‘Yeah, right outside our mine. All these fucks with guns are standing in a circle glaring at us. It must have been the same for you. All those warnings about not trying to escape . . .’
‘Right,’ I say. ‘I hate that.’
‘So they took us back to the camp. And then let us out in work details to dig their damn trenches and fix their pipes . . . Took me a while to work out what was happening.’
‘And then?’ I say, thinking, give me a clue here .
Something bleak enters Mic’s eyes. ‘When we struck for more food, they killed five the first hour, five the next, five the hour after . . . Chosen at random. So we killed the guards, cut the wire and this is what’s left.’
He gestures to three people, who are all that remain of his group.
They walk towards us slowly. If I were them, I wouldn’t trust us either.
His group turns out to be one woman and two men. Mic doesn’t introduce them and I don’t ask. If anything, they look worse than he does.
———
We give the ejército a water bottle and march them into the shade of an overhang. Then, while Shil and Franc keep their rifles trained, Neen walks along the line with a shovel and breaks the left ankle of every one.
‘Here,’ he says, giving Mic back his shovel.
‘My pleasure.’
The colonel’s furious. Since it’s already done, I can’t see his point. ‘It’s barbaric,’ he tells me. He is so cross he insists we have the conversation in private.
‘Your decision, sir.’
He scowls at me.
‘We’ve no cuffs, no rope, and you said I couldn’t kill them. With respect, what the fuck was I meant to do?’
Saluting smartly, I leave him with the question.
The ejército yell at us as we head out. All the usual insults. There are x million suns and x million planets, yet all you ever get is insults about your mother, your sister and your girlfriend. Well, the first two are dead, and I don’t have a third so I’m not too bothered. But I translate them anyway, just for the pleasure of watching Colonel Vijay’s lips tighten.
As the afternoon goes on, Mic trails further and further behind. Until our only choice is, leave him or make camp and wait. When he finally arrives, Shil has a fire burning, Neen has caught what looks like a dog, Franc has gutted the beast, seasoned it with bark and has a stick stuffed up one end and out the other.
We offer the prospectors meat, and give them the wine from Pavel’s flask. It does little good. One dies in the night. He’s old, with skin that looks like cheaply cured leather.
We find him at first light. Back against a rock and face towards the sun. I know, it’s reflection in a mirror . . . light enters Hekati through chevron safety glass and servomotors in the hub shift huge silvered sheets to create the illusion.
It still looks like dawn to me.
He has stripped off his shirt and lesions disfigure his chest. The skin over his gut is purple as if the corruption set in long before he
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