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  She spent the day getting the normal work done, pushing them a little bit faster all day, until they were operating at twice the speed of that morning. Once she started hearing some grumbles, she backed off. It was amazing, this difference. Libby knew she was one of the best crew leaders S&V had, and she had tried to get the best team possible, but it hadn't occurred to her that they were slowed down to an average speed because of her leadership.

  When Bronson showed up at the end of the day, it didn't surprise her. She nodded at him, and he raised one hand in a halfhearted wave. He watched the men working for a while, standing next to her on one of the equipment platforms.

  After a moment, he got on the local radio station, "They're having a really good day."

  Libby knew that, given their distance from the rest of the workers, the local station was as good as a private chat. Still, she nodded and said, "Yeah, we hit a juicy spot on our second location."

  He nodded slowly, "I suppose that could be it."

  They stood there for a while, looking out at the work, "Of course, seeing them keep their minds on the work, I think you must have helped a bit."

  She shrugged as though disinterested. "I wouldn't know about that. Didn't do anything different today."

  He nodded and said, "Well, let's hope you don't do anything different tomorrow." Then turned and left.

  She watched him go, wishing she could glare at him. The problem was, she knew he was right. When she had her mind on her work, the whole crew worked better. She took a deep breath and wondered, could she keep the work going like this, and still work her claim? Both were taxing, and something clearly had to give.

  She bounced down to the dig, and let them all go. It wasn't quite quitting time, but they'd done good work and she let them know it. Then she started on her daily ritual of going home, tethering the runabout, grabbing the shovel-pick, and going back to her lonely dig. She knew she wouldn't have the kind of time that she'd had before, so she knew she had to work even harder that night.

  ***

  A couple hours later, eyes bleary and music pounding in her head, Libby had a misstep. It was a basic, amateur-hour mistake, lunging too hard into a brittle shelf. The rock cracked easily, with momentum carrying her forward and flipping her. She fell against the narrow wall of her excavated column, knocking her shoulder into the wall, and jamming the handle of the pick into her stomach. The impact knocked her breath out, and she crumpled to the ground. She lay against the wall for a moment, getting her wind back, as her sharp breaths turned from gasps to sobs. Her head had hit the side of her helmet, pausing the music. The only sound left was her labored breathing, coming in quick, painful bursts. The pain was still ringing in her hands, her chest, and her shoulder. She was aching from the impact, but that wasn't what got her.

  The sobbing deepened as she sat there and looked what she'd done. For several months she'd worked at this, chipping away a few feet of rock every night. It was so hard, and she'd worked so long, and for what? Even if she got this little rock pulled out in the next year, she'd still have to find a way to refine it, melt down the different parts, and sell it. And after that, how much would it be worth? Enough to pay for a new tool, so the next huge block will only take half a year? What was the point, really? She was on the list for using the community tools, but that list was a mile long, and it would be months before she could use them. Besides, even when she got the tools, she didn't have anybody to help her with them.

  Libby sat in the tiny corridor she had tunneled out, and just stared at the end of it, her headlamp glinting dully off the green and gray metals. There was just too much. This world almost broke her once, and she wondered if she made the right move fighting it.

  Libby brought her hands up to her helmet, elbows on her knees, holding her head up as she closed her eyes and tried to find that last reserve. No more questions. Just find enough strength to keep going another hour or so, then she could sack out and try it again.

  Her eyes popped open at the feel of a hand on her shoulder. She blinked wildly at the strange brilliance before her eyes. Her whole cavern was glistening as bright light flooded the tunnel. It was a treasure trove of greens and gold, vivid and beautiful. She gasped as she stumbled to her feet.

  As she turned, she saw Bronson standing behind her. He tapped the side of his helmet, the universal sign for "radio", and she quickly switched to the local station. He looked around the tunnel, "So, you call this a hole?"

  She blinked at him, uncomprehending. Far behind him, bright light was pouring in. "Wha- What are you doing here?"

  He beckoned with one hand toward the entrance, as he pulled himself down the tunnel with the other, "Come on. This simply will not do."

  Bronson turned to her as they neared the entrance, "Now listen, I told you that if you didn't do something about this, I would. Well, here I am, and this is what I'm going to do." She followed him dumbly out of the tunnel, and into a circle of powerful worklights. Standing just outside the circle was her whole crew, grinning. Some of them were still sitting at the equipment from work.

  He continued, "I won't have you busting your ass every night, trying to get one lousy block out of this rock you've chosen. So, these fellas are going to help you."

  She just stared at the huge machinery landed on her rock. One day with this group could get more done than she could hope to do all month. She started to walk over to them. She could still hear Bronson in her ear, "Now, not so fast, missy. There's a catch."

  She turned slowly to face him, still marveling at the tools. He continued, "Now, you can't keep the new toys. These men are here on loan. Once you've got the claim working, you're going to pay every one of these men, and that goes for the equipment too."

  The talk of money shook her out of the reverie slightly, "Okay, understood. That's fine -"

  "There's more," he continued, starting to walk circles around her, "This equipment is for exploratory cuts. You're going to use it to get a foothold, and get started. These men are not here to do all the work for you."

  She nodded, smiling to herself. That foothold would pull months off of her schedule. "Anything else?"

  "Yes, you have to get back to work. For real. I want you on the site, with your mind on the job, and no more distractions." She looked at him, and saw him smiling, "After all, that's the only reason I'm here, right? To get you back to work?"

  She grinned at him, "Fine by me, boss. Thank y-"

  "Don't thank me. I just can't abide to see one of my best workers out here excavating with a damn hoe. And don't tell anybody about this." He muttered under his breath, "Last thing I need is a reputation for just giving labor away." He took a deep breath and said, "Now, I'm paying those men," he gestured at the circle around them, "so don't let them just sit there."

  "Yes sir!" She took a deep breath and bounced over to the group, "You heard the man, and those of you that didn't need to wake up! For this one night, I have decided to let you monkeys have the supreme honor of setting foot on my hallowed ground. Out of the goodness of my heart, and despite my better judgment, I'm going to let you dig on my sweet, sweet land. If you're very good, I may let you come back some day. Cavendish, I want you to go look at that rock, and tell me how you would do it better. Jimmy, I want you right behind him, getting the tools ready to do it. The rest of you start powering up, because I've got another spot two clicks from here that I want you to check." She jumped from one tool to the other, singing out instructions. It was gonna be a long night, and she was loving it.

  Chapter 18

  A few hours later, Libby lay on the hood of the huge, yellow carbon extractor. The giant machine was built to travel around behind the digger, sucking in dust, tiny rocks, and pebbles, then spit out condensed carbon blocks which were used for an energy source for other tools. She stretched out on the hood, feeling the heat of the engine soak into her suit. Machines built for work in space had to be overhauled extensively to ensure that they didn't radiate heat, because there was no air to distribu
te the heat, and coolant systems were expensive. Still, you can't have moving parts without some heat.

  Jimmy sat at the steering wheel, with his feet up on the dashboard, head lolling out the window. They both stared out at the sky around them. It had been a hard night. As he rested against the door, Jimmy snorted, "Now that's cliche'."

  Libby didn't open her eyes, "What is?"

  He waved listlessly at the sky, "All that. I can see hundreds of rocks for us to mine, and I know there's billions I can't see. Then there's the actual planets, and more than that, the stars. You just think about it all, and it makes you feel insignificant."

  She huffed a short laugh, "I didn't need stars for that. I've felt insignificant my whole life."

  They both laughed wearily at that, then relaxed quietly for a bit. Jimmy said, "See, I've got a plan. I'm out here, working my ass off, yeah. But I've got a plan for when I get back. That's the only reason I don't worry about it."

  She nodded, "I had a plan."

  He said, "I figure, if you keep busy, you can't be worrying about stars or insignificant stuff, or any of that. You're too busy moving from place to place, meeting new and exciting people, doing dangerous work for amazing money." They paused again for a while, then Jimmy asked, "What was it?"

  "What?"

  "What was it?"

  "What was what?"

  He puffed out a sigh, "What was your plan? It's gotta be a good one, for you to hold on to it. I mean, you're not like us. We're all short timers, just here to get the job experience and move on. But not you. You actually bought real estate here. You're putting down roots. What's that all about?"

  She shrugged, feeling the suit slide against the hood, "I dunno. When I first got here, I was going to find my fortune. . . " she stared out at the stars, "What a stupid phrase, 'find my fortune'. Like there was just some pot of gold, and I had to look under enough four-leaf clovers to find it."

  She shook her head and continued, "So, I figured I would come out here, get some free land, and become a mining magnate or something. I dunno. Instead, I had to scrap that plan when I got out here and found out how long it takes to actually make any money. So I worked for my freedom, like Jacob worked for his wife." There was a pause, then as Jimmy was about to ask, she said, "It's a bible thing. Never mind. Suffice it to say that I worked my ass off, and the only plan was for me to get enough money to get home. Then, once I had the money, it wasn't enough. I mean, all that work, all that time, and all I got for it was a trip home? What's the point if I still haven't found the fortune?"

  "Still looking for your pot of gold?" He smiled.

  "I just want something more than going home. When I go home, it's going to be in my own solid gold ship, with diamonds and pearls adorning it. There's no point in going back until I can go back in style."

  He grinned at that, "So, it's not about building up your retirement or anything silly like that. This is all about extravagance."

  "What do you mean?"

  He put one hand behind his head, "Well, you aren't talking about socking it away for a rainy day. You're talking about showing off for everybody. It's not enough to have money unless you can have too much money."

  She held still suddenly, "Not too much. Just enough to prove the point."

  "What point?"

  "I want everybody to know that I did it. I want them to know they were wrong, that I was somebody. I want them to know that I was the one they . . . that I was worth . . . I don't know."

  Jimmy frowned, "What are you saying?"

  "I told you I felt insignificant." She sat up, "Okay, enough rest. Time to get back to it." She bounced away before he could respond.

  ***

  Libby sat in the Hail Mary, playing poker with Woody. She folded a pair of sixes and craned her neck to look out the doorway. Woody swept up the toothpicks, and frowned at her, "You waitin' for a bus, Tumbler?"

  She tapped a toothpick against the bar as her foot bounced on the chair, "Nah, it's just. It's my turn."

  Woody tossed out two neat stacks of cards, "What turn?"

  She looked back out the door again, "It's my turn, my turn with the machinery. I've been on that list forever, and today's my day! The company representative should be opening up the office soon."

  He grinned, "You've been out here for hours, just waiting for some bureaucrat to show up and give you permission to start working with the company tools?"

  She bounced in the seat unconsciously, "Yup, and don't give me any of that crap about the proletariat and working for your own tools, and all that. I've got a chance at getting tools that will make my job easier, with no extra expense to me, and that sounds like a good deal by any standards."

  He picked up his cards, eyes still locked on her, "No, don' worry about me. No lectures here. You do a good day's work, Tumbler, and you don't owe anybody an explanation for it."

  She picked up her cards and tried to concentrate on the hand, "So what about you? Don't you have a claim to work? Whenever I come to town, you always seem to be here in the Mary. What do you do around here?"

  His brow furrowed, "I've got a claim, same as everybody else. And I work it to stay alive, same as anybody else."

  "There he is!" Libby threw down her cards as she watched the pudgy man pass by the door. "Later, buddy. I've got a long day ahead of me." She bounced out the door, and fell into step behind the short man.

  They walked wordlessly to his office, a small enclosed alcove off the tunnel wall of Blessed's infrastructure. As the man unlocked the door and headed inside, Libby held her place outside and feigned disinterest. He shut the door behind him, and she counted to a hundred slowly. Then she rushed the door.

  "Okay, Burroughs. I waited, you've had time to put your case down, grab a coffee. Now, gimmie my equipment!"

  The bespectacled man blinked at her owlishly, then started shifting through paperwork, "Is it that time already? Oh, let me see. Are you even on the list, Tumbler?"

  "Of course I am, and it's my turn. Just show me what to sign, and I'll go pick up the stuff."

  He patted the air, attempting to restrain her, "Now, now, just a moment. First off, I've got an -" he read off the list, "E. Carter as the next lease-holder. Is that your name, Tumbler?" He peeked over his glasses at her, "Are you E. Carter?"

  "Yeah. Elizabeth Carter. Now, do you have something for me, or not?"

  Mr Burroughs sifted through some more paperwork, and pulled out a bound multi-page form, "Of course, of course. You just sign this, everywhere there's an X. It's the standard indemnity clauses. Says you will only be working land owned by you, holds you responsible for any equipment fuel or damage, says the company isn't responsible for any damage done to your person or anyone employed by you on this."

  She nodded excitedly, finding X's and signing next to them, "Yeah, I know. I did my homework."

  He continued as though he hadn't heard her, "Also, understand that this is not a gift. This equipment is on loan to you from the company. The repayment will be no more than the cost of equipment fuel, as well as equipment wear and tear. That debt will be held against you until such time as you are able to pay it, including interest which accrues at three percent per annum."

  "Right, right. Just give me the keys, and I'm good."

  He took the pages back and checked the signatures. As he flipped through the list, he muttered with a distracted air, "No, miss. It doesn't work like that."

  Her smile turned chilly as she asked him, "What exactly is it like?"

  He finished going through the paperwork, and nodded to himself. Looking at her, he said flatly, "You get the tools you need from the previous loaner. During the month that you have these tools, you will not need to use all of them at the same time. For instance, you don't need to process ore before you're done extracting it, right?" He didn't slow down for her to answer, "So, given that you will only be using certain tools at certain times, you go to the person who was previously loaned these tools, and request the ones that you need at the moment."r />
  He walked around to his side of the desk, "Then, during the month, as you need different tools, you can request them from the previous party. At the end of the month, you will likely have used all the tools needed, and then the next loaning party will be able to request tools from you." He started sorting some papers, not bothering to look at her, "In this way, everyone gets a little extra time to use the tools, even after their limit is up."

  He reached for the contract, and she brought one hand down quickly, covering it, "No."

  The small man looked up at her, blinking, "I beg your pardon?"

  Her voice was quiet and even, "No. That's not the deal. That's not what I agreed to. It's certainly not what I expected when I signed up."

  He smiled, "It's just a little tradition we have with the miners. Everybody gets a little extra time at the end of their turn. There's nothing to get upset about."

  "I'm paying for wear and tear on those machines during this time, right?"

  "Well, yes."

  "Then why am I paying for someone else's wear and tear?"

  He puffed up at this, "Ms. Carter, you don't need all the tools at once. For you to take them all at once and just sit on them is just selfish."

  "Personal comments aside, Mr. Burroughs, can you tell me where in this contract it says that I have to pay for fuel that someone else uses?" She made as if to pick up the contract, half tempted to tear it up.

  He snatched it back, "This is not about contracts, miss. This is about tradition, a simple gentlemen's agreement between the miners and the company. This way, you only use the things you'll need."

  "How do you know what I need? Do you know how much ore I've already extracted? What if I need the processors first?"

  "Well then, I'd say you're a very poor businesswoman, putting the cart before the horse like that."