Episode 305: Blush Bismuth, Part 2
Outside, Rick discovers where the miners get their gear and suit up at shift change. When the next changeover occurs, he stashes his rifle in a safe spot on the grounds, inserts himself into the crowd going into the locker rooms and snags the coveralls and the gear he needs to blend in. He’s kept his beloved knives on him so he’s not entirely defenseless and his showmanship skills allow him to mimic the miners sufficiently so as not to stand out. He follows a couple of the miners to a stock pile of air hoses, shoulders a coil of hose like the others are doing and follows them down into the mine.
As he walks, Rick notices something about the miners: a good portion of them seem to be simple, or brain damaged. He sees they are put to breaking ore down by hand, sweeping up, shoveling, some digging via pickaxes. In short, they tackle the unskilled labor no one else wants to do.
The coveralls and the filter mask Rick’s wearing offers decent concealment and it’s not long before the pink dust of flaking bismuth coats him and makes him look like everyone else. It’s also dark down there for the most part, the dust suspended in the air fogging up the bare-bulb lights strung up along the ceiling of the access tunnel. Rick trudges on, past other workers and heavy machinery moving up and down the tunnel. Bright spots along the way formed by blazing work lights punctuate the murk, their powerful beams trained on the bismuth veins that huge boring machines are digging out of the rock.
It’s a combination of high tech and low tech. The bore machines are tracked vehicles with the standard trio of spinning toothed bits at the front that dig into and pulverized what they touch. The ore thus gained is channeled through the vehicle and shot out a chute in the back. There the workers hand shovel and hand sweep the ore into wheel barrows and mine carts.
That explains the presence of the bismuth dust in the air, at least.
The men working the machinery carry themselves and perform their duties like professional miners. Those doing the shoveling and the heavy hand work, those tasks are done by the zombie-like brain-damaged.
Rick gets hailed by one of the workers, who waves him over. The miner takes the end of Rick’s hose and then point to it, then up the way Rick came. It’s the pantomime one would use with young children and the simple, and it fits well with the evidence of the simple-minded Rick has seen on the way down. Sometimes it’s not pantomime. Sometimes it’s physical. Banging on the helmets to get their attention, roughly pushing or pulling the miners where they’re needed to go. Even kicking, in a few cases. Like those seen in the cafeteria, they are figures deserving of pity, not abuse or ridicule, but Rick gets the impression that these unfortunate individuals are barely tolerated by the professional miners and the pros aren’t backward in making their opinions felt.
Rick is glad to see there is no actual whipping or shocking done, but abuse is abuse, and should be stopped. He doesn’t argue with the miner giving him the orders but turns around with the others to fetch more air hose. While he’s down there, he spots a man eyeing him suspiciously and the man follows him all the way out of the mine. When Rick draws even with the air hose pile, Rick turns into a side passage and facing the entrance of the passage, he stops just inside and ties his bootlace.
His follower draws up short upon seeing him working at his boot laces and continues on, edging past him to a circuit box, which he opens and throws the switch of. A string of lights come to life overhead, lighting their way down into the depths of the mine. The man continues down the tunnel, adjusting a series of valve wheels attached to the runs of piping following the walls of the passage.
Rick secures his bootlace and follows him.
Ahead of him, Rick sees the man pull his mask off and hold a clamp out to him.
Miner: Put this clamp on and hold it steady while I lock this down, here?
Rick complies.
Miner: We normally don’t get new workers mid-shift. What’s your name?
Rick: Herbert.
Miner: (looking him over) I see they got you hauling hose, but you got some technical skill or something? You don’t look like the recent hires. And I can’t imagine that misfit in management actually got through with word about mistreating miners.
The man suddenly reaches out and squeezes Rick’s shoulder, gauging the musculature beneath, slowly spinning him as if checking Rick for something, even pushing back the hair at the back of the head.
Miner: (Muttering) This doesn’t make any sense.
Rick: (winking) What’s your name?
Miner: It’s McCormick.
He has the grace to look embarrassed at the physical once-over.
McCormick: I’m sorry. Most of the hires at D-grade are…ah…these’re kinda not-right people, but you seem okay. You…you wanted this job? I didn’t know they were hiring people anymore.
Rick: I needed to make some money.
McCormick: Not gonna make much here, I’ll tellya. It’s like…well, I’m sounding like Engels, but you should…uh, All right. I’m sorry I was harrassin’ ya but once you figure out the ropes, they’ll move you up fast. You’re not gonna have’ta spend much time haulin’ rocks an’ such.
Rick’s ears perk up at the name.
Rick: Who’s Engles?
McCormick: (waving it off) We just call him Engels, his real name’s, uh, Jones. But he, uh, he’s a…he was our union rep. That’s what we called him, ‘Engels’. But when they cancelled the union, he became one of the … he’s got the cleaning duty in the tanks.
Rick: Ahhh. That doesn’t sound like fun work.
McCormick: Maybe he’s a real imbecile, because that’s a horrible job. But he’s almost always there. I wouldn’t recommend that you listen too much to him about organization. It doesn’t sit too well with management.
If you do, you could get assigned a punitive detail like cleaning tanks.
Rick: So what tanks is he cleaning?
McCormick: He’s cleaning the sludge tanks.
Rick: Wow.
McCormick: They’re under the crusher.
Rick: All right. Well, hopefully I’ll move up and I won’t get in a position where I have to clean the sludge tanks.
McCormick: That’s not a…I’ll push you through. Herbert, you said your name was?
Rick: Yeah.
McCormick: I’ll see what we can do about getting you a machine. You ever, ah, drive a car?
Rick: Yup.
McCormick: Or a hovercar or somethin’? Okay, so if you can do that, you can do most of this work. We don’t need you breakin’ rocks. We let the stitches do that. That’s about the best they can do. (a beat) Yeah, and if they …they usually—they must have told you about these guys, right?
‘Stitches’? Told us about ‘these guys’? What?
Rick: No. No, I didn’t.
McCormick: That’s all right. Most of the people doin’ this kinda work, haulin’ hose, pushin’ carts…they got somethin’ wrong with ’em. And for the most part you can prod them along a little bit. But here’s the thing…
McCormick leans in.
McCormick: If they look in your eyes, you gotta back away. Do you understand?
Rick: Okay.
McCormick: I’m absolutely serious. And with the googles you can’t always tell. But if they stare in your eyes, you gotta back away. Cuz if they get aggressive at that stage, it’s not good. Especially if they got a hammer or shovel or somethin’.
Rick: Okay.
McCormick: They ain’t right and they can be dangerous.
Rick: All right. Thanks for telling me that.
McCormick: Other than that, you can do pretty much what you want with them. They’re complete idiots.
Rick: All right.
Rick retraces his steps out of the mine and strikes off to find the crusher and the tanks.
--
Back at the cafeteria, Nika, Arden and Rina leave for their guest quarters. The quarters are housed in a cabin separated from the barracks-style dormitories, but that’s not saying much: there is a solid roof and a solid floor, true enough, but the walls only go halfway up, the rest being nothing but screens and removable wooden storm shutters. The season is still warm enough to dispense with the screens and the minute the overhead light is turned on, the cabin turns into an instant fishbowl.
So much for privacy.
Arden walks right back out in search of a snack canteen or something. He remembers a company store attached to the cafeteria, selling candy bars and magazines and fruity oatey bars. When Arden goes in to look things over, he sees mining gear for sale. Apparently the workers are able to buy their gear, assuming it’s not required that they buy it. Arden chats up the proprietor behind the counter and the man, speaking in an East Indian accent is happy to chat back.
Arden mentions the gear. Doesn’t Corone supply its miners with gear already? Of course they do, the proprietor assures him, but if they are careless with their equipment they must replace it out of pocket. Arden comments that he thought Corone would just dock their pay for the cost of the item.
Proprietor: It is their choice.
Arden: Huh. Well, all right… it’s kinda boring here at night, isn’t it?
Proprietor: Ah! Can I interest you in a pornographic data pad? They are veddy popular.
Arden: (not touching that one!) Not really. But are there other things to do around the camp?
The Proprietor stops and thinks a moment.
Proprietor: Well…most of the miners are too tired by the time they are off shift. You’ll find there is not a lot of actividdies, although on off days there are calisthenics and occasional games.
Arden: Their off days?
Proprietor: Mmm-hm. Eveddy eighth day.
Arden: Oh. Okay.
Not the life of leisure here, nope.
Arden: I guess I’ll head back to the bunk then.
And he rejoins Nika and Rina. Nika passes him as he crosses the threshold—she’s got her date with Escobar to go to. We wave goodbye as she leaves. Arden’s not there for long before Jackson shows up with the Blue Sun employee paperwork he’s gathered along with some blank forms. He knocks on the screen door.
Rina: (to Arden) You expecting anybody?
Jackson: (meekly through the door) Excuse me. (knock knock) Excuse me…
Rina lets him in.
Rina: (curtly) Yes?
Jackson: I need you to fill these out.
He shoves the clipboard with a raft of papers at Rina and hands her a pen.
Rina: What are they?
Jackson: Well, they’re…they... it’s a large collection of forms but you have to document your-your-your stay here. In the cabin. I’m going to need you to make sure to go through all of them.
Rina: (growling) Fine.
He rifles through the pages as if to show her where to sign, and he is really, because scattered throughout the legitimate papers are the Blue Sun forms, neatly hidden from casual view. Rina scribbles something illegible for a signature in the appropriate spots and gets a good look at those forms.
Jackson: If you bring it back to me, you’ll need to bring it back to, you’ll need to bring it back to the office first thing in the morning please. Because if I don’t document this, then you’re going to be charged for your guest quarters. Make sure you go through them please…
And with that, Jackson exits the cabin for his quarters. Rina divides the stack in two.
Rina: (to Arden) Here. You take half.
And aware they could be watched, she and Arden go through the papers as ordered. Noting what they can of the Blue Sun papers hidden amongst them. Arden notices that the Blue Sun papers all have medical notes from the Emergency Field Hospital of Highgate with the same doctor’s signature on it—a Dr. Gordon.
Rina: Could you forge his signature?
Arden: (annoyed) Stop. (considers it) Probably.
The field hospital was set up to treat people with Prion Disease. It’s the same one, in fact, that Arden helped at, back when we were here last and this is the same hospital we’d rescued Lem from by adopting him. Arden recalls a Dr. Gordon, a surgeon, working there at the same time. Given that the people we’ve seen in the cafeteria have surgery scars….
There are also hiring codes on the Blue Sun papers, codes for these personnel that seem a little different from the others, that seem special for these guys. Possibly a taxation code but Arden and Rina can’t quite determine exactly what.
Arden: You know, I left my manual back on the shuttle. You wanna walk with me to get it?
Rina: Sure.
Thus alone and out of the cabin which might possibly be bugged, he talks to her as they walk. He tells her what he thinks. It’s not hard, she’s thinking the same thing, really.
--
As for Nika—at the time she left, Escobar was waiting off to the side to escort her from the cabin.
Escobar: So. You want me to show you around?
Nika: (cheerfully) Yeah.
They fall easily into step as they start walking.
Nika: What do you do around here?
Escobar: What’s that?
Nika: What do you do around here?
Escobar: I’m the head of security. So you don’t have to worry about anything. Any stories you heard are entirely false. All those stories about rape gangs are not true.
Nika’s raised eyebrow is eloquent: Rape gangs? How nice!
Escobar: Besides, you’re with me. (leers) Would you like to see the nerve center first?
Nika: Absolutely. That’s got to be the best thing about this area.
Escobar: I’ll show you my office.
And so he does. They cross the large spare yard to the security building where Escobar swipes his card to open the door. It’s a mine office, nothing fancy. You walk in and to one side is a break room with a large flat screen, tables and chairs. Along here are the offices, over here the bunk rooms for the security staff.
Nika: So do your men all stay here in these dorms instead’a…well, I saw some dorm buildings out there….?
Escobar: (hrumphs) Yeah, that’s not for us. My private office is that way.
And toward the back is Escobar’s office. Escobar closes the office door behind them as they walk through it. Inside is a desk and several monitors mounted to the walls showing various shots of the mine’s grounds. Nika recognizes the front and back gates in the cycling images, along with other shots of the mine on three of the monitors. They are mostly entrances to buildings like the crusher building and the furnaces, the dormitory areas, and the mine shafts. Watching them for a bit, Nika gauges the cycle through and realizes that there are more camera views than there are monitors and that there are gaps in surveillance from the change-overs in the camera feeds. None of the camera images point outward into the countryside. All of the cameras point into the compound. The image of the front gates is constant, unchanging. Can she use that to our advantage?
Nika nods toward the monitors.
Nika: Don’t you have people manning these?
Escobar: Meh. Sometimes.
Nika: Wow, that’s kinduva slack attitude, but it’s kinduva cushy deal you got here.
Escobar: We mine bismuth.
Nika: That’s a whole lotta cameras to be minin’ bismuth. That’s a pretty cushy deal in this job.
Escobar: You know what bismuth is for?
Nika: Well, they told me somthin’ about it. Not my specialty.
Escobar: It’s pink dirt.
Nika: Yeah. It’s very messy. Everybody’s covered with it around here.
Escobar: (brushing some of it off) Yeah….I think my private stash is in there. I’ll get you a drink.
While he fetches that drink, Nika’s still looking around and talking.
Nika: So tell me what you like about working for this company, besides cushy deal you got with the whole, you know, “let’s guard the business mine”. Aside from the cushy deal of not monitoring the monitors, because there’s not much going on.
Escobar: Well, honestly—
Nika: Oh and dealing with the rape gangs, because that could be a big deal.
Escobar pours a couple of fingers of a brown booze into a couple of glasses and hands Nika one. The label declares it as regular issue Blue Sun Whisky. They lift their glasses in silent toast. They sip. And talk.
Escobar: I’m actually sort of between my main employments. I’m out here just as a favor to a friend but usually I’m…more engaged.
Nika: So, whaddya do when you’re not here?
Escobar: Well….I guess you can say I …travel a lot. I do sort of private security work around the area. In fact I’m not an employee of Corone. This is a temp gig until I find somethin’ better for a little while.
Nika: Well, you said it’s a favor for friends.
Escobar: It’s something I do to …recuperate. Little tension. As you said, slack. It’s an easy way to do this kinda stuff.
Nika: A good way to make money when you’re between jobs.
Escobar: What you call I get here, money… If I was on the Corone payroll, I’d be blowin’ my brains out. This kinda crap job is nothin’, but my money comes from elsewhere. But…nobody comes out here, so it’s a good place where I…don’t have to worry about that. Sometimes in my line of work, I make…enemies of sorts. (gestures at his office) It’s all right.
Nika: You said you flew? What do you fly?
Escobar: Back in the war I sometimes piloted the…
And he names the Verse’s equivalent of the A-10 Warthog.
Escobar: That was my main work…but you had to learn a lotta skills. Besides, I was more the special ops stuff. All right…. I don’t want to take to long, so…
Escobar stands up and starts undoing his belt.
Escobar: If you’re ready, let’s go for this.
Nika: Tell you what. Why don’t you take that….(hands him her drink) ….and have a little more? And—
Escobar: So, you gonna put on a little show?
Nika: —talk to me tomorrow.
Escobar: Are you serious? I drag you all around this place for that?
Nika: Do I look like a hooker to you?
Escobar: I’m not payin’ ya.
Nika: That’s almost worse.
Escobar: All right. How much d’you want?
Owwwwch!
Nika opens the door. Or at least, she tries to. The bastard’s locked it.
Nika: (drawling) It was real nice meetin’ ya. Why’n’t cha open the door for me.
Escobar doesn’t move.
Nika: It’s the least you can do. It’ll be the only way you treat me like a lady tonight, apparently.
Escobar: We could have a good time and everyone can be happy….(starts moving)…you obviously like me, and I like you, so…you know, why do we have to go through all this hassle?
Nika: A little conversation’s not a hassle.
Escobar: All right. I’ll pour you another drink. If you change your mind in the course of that drink, you and me’ll get along more friendly-like.
Nika: I’ll think about that.
If nothing else, it will buy her time to think, to plan, to escape. He pours. She sips. They talk.
Escobar: So. How’s your family? Nice ship you got there.
Nika: (on to him) Yeah. Or not. Whyn’t ya tell me about those crazy people out there.
Escobar: Crazy people?
Nika: Yeah. You know, the weird ones that walk around like zombies?
Escobar: Is there a different kind here?
Nika: I’m startin’ to wonder.
Escobar looks at Nika narrowly and Nika’s getting the feeling that Escobar isn’t much of a conversationalist, not when he’s got something else in mind.
Escobar: Whyn’t cha have a drink?
Nika: Yep, I think we’re done now. Let’s go.
She puts her drink down and stands up. She takes a good look around the office. A couch. Decent desk and fancy chair. Databook, keyboard and fancy screen. File cabinets. Nothing odd. Just office stuff. What looks like a gun locker but she can’t see what’s inside it. It’s probably locked. And of course, she sees the liquor cabinet.
Nika: So, how often do you get down to town?
She turns around and faces Escobar. He’s busy taking off his shirt.
Ohhhhh, Nika doesn’t even want to do this….. She thinks back to what she saw coming in. The break room had what could be bathrooms off it. If there’s a bathroom, there might be a window she could shimmy out of. Possibly. She looks back at Escobar and privately admits if he’d only been a little more couth about it, she might have agreed to it.
Too late now.
She’s already got the impression that Escobar is not a man used to people saying ‘no’ to him and walking away. She also gets the impression that he has little care for matters between him and Nika being consensual or not. He could make it happen either way, however easy or hard Nika chooses to make it. It’s no matter to him, one way or the other.
Whatever works.
Now that his shirt is coming, she can see he’s kept himself in good shape. He’s no 98-pound weakling. Fighting him would be….unproductive. She’ll have to use more wily methods to get out of this.
Heavy on the ‘wile’.
She eases on over and helps him with the last few buttons.
Nika: You could’a asked a little more nicely, you know.
Escobar: Yeah, yeah. I’ll send you flowers tomorrow.
Nika: Promise? (she stops unbuttoning)
Escobar: Uh…sure.
Nika: That might be the first time I’ve gotten flowers in weeks. Maybe months.
Escobar: Well, there you go.
Nika: See now? That makes me like you a little better.
Escobar knocks back the rest of his drink.
Escobar: All right. Let’s do this thing!
Nika lets the man kiss her and allows things to progress a bit before she pulls back and whispers.
Nika: You gotta stop for a second. Or I’m gonna embarrass both of us…
Escobar: (narrowly) You’re not a dude, are’ya?
Nika: Uh, no. I’ll even let ya slide your hands down there to check, if you wanna.
Escobar: (continuing) Cuz I done that before an’ that’s not a pleasant thing.
Nika: (embarrassed) I gotta pee…
Escobar sighs heavily from exasperation….and other things.
Nika: Unless, of course, you’re into the kink factor.
Escobar: …No.
Nika: I really gotta go.
Escobar: All right.
Nika: Okay, thanks.
Escobar lets her go and unlocks the office door to escort her to what passes for a ladies room. She smiles and passes inside and sees with relief that there is indeed a window. Once inside and out of sight, she wastes no time getting herself through it. She shimmies through, hits the dirt running and sprints for Jackson’s office building. She beats a steady tattoo on the front door. Since his office is on the second floor, she’s stuck on the doorstep for at least a minute.
Escobar is going to find her any second now and the doorstep is too exposed. Nika goes around the side of the building where Jackson’s office is and picking up a handful of pebbles, resorts to the old-fashioned trick of lobbing the stones gently against the glass.
Spick! Spack! Spick!
Shadows move on the glass and Jackson’s face appears. He opens the window and addresses her.
Jackson: You realize that’s company property, right? (meaning the window)
Nika: (Dangerously stern) Come down here and open the door!
Jackson: (Yikes!) Yes, ma’am.
Nika: Use the back door.
He opens the rear door. She gets herself inside. He looks quite understandably flummoxed by her sudden and unexpected presence. It’s not long before they are both back in the relative safety of his office.
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