Lunar Equitable mining station six. The distant future.
The kid watched his mentor carefully as he took a small wad of the plastex and molded it into a long rope that he shoved under the ledge of rock. He set the tiny detonator into the plastex and told the kid to reel out the wire to the next tunnel junction. Once there, he connected the set up while the kid watched his every move. To the kid's surprise, the man handed him the small black box.
"Here ya go, kid. Blow the sucker." Deke Branson told the kid.
They were deep under the surface of the moon, mining for minerals that were coming hard to get on a depleted earth. The kid had signed up to learn hard rock mining, and had drawn Deke Branson as a teacher and mentor. The kid, as all brand new apprentices were called, was deeply grateful, for if even a half of what he'd heard on the shuttle coming up was true, then Deke Branson was a genius and wizard with the compact plastex developed for the military and used by off world mining. This was his very first real job, and the old timers on the shuttle were talkative about Branson when the kid told them he was on his way to apprentice under the man. They told tales of Deke's exploits when he fought against the Black Shirts in the Second American Revolution. How when Deke was with the Constitutionalist rebels, he'd blown up the Denver headquarters of the Black Shirts right next to a children's hospital without damaging any of the children's hospital at all, and no child was harmed. It was said over 400 Black Shirts died that night. Now, after working with him for a week, he saw just what a genius he was. Deke never seemed to take measurements or make calculations. He eye balled it, and pinched off some material, and the job was done. Now he handed the kid the tiny box that was the detonator control box. Like everything they used, it had been miniaturized to be as compact and light weight as possible for easy transport up from earth.
"Thanks' Deke." the kid said as he took the box from his mentor. He put his finger on the button.
"Now, are you sure it's ready to go?" Deke asked the kid.
The kid looked down the tunnel, and saw the work personnel had cleared out, the connections were good, and the green light was on.
"I think so. Yes, It's ready."
"Well then, do it, kid. We ain't got all night." Deke said.
The kid hit the button and a muffled thump sounded from the branch tunnel, and some dust blew out of the opening. They looked around the corner, and the whole ledge of rock had just collapsed down. The work crew went in with shovels to clear the rock debris and Deke looked at his watch.
"Just about quitting time, kid. Let's grab a cold one at the club."
Jus then, from another branch tunnel down the line came an unexpected rumble.
"Let's go, Kid, that didn't sound good." Deke said as he broke into a run.
Men were running into the branch tunnel, and a foreman was giving directions. He stopped Deke and the kid.
"Hold up Deke. Some roof came down, and we're waiting for some shoring personnel to get here. But there's some men trapped on the other side that may need help. We could use some help with shoveling." he said.
"No, that will take too long, let me look it over and see what I can do." Deke said. He ran down to the wall of ruble that blocked off the tunnel, and looked it over carefully. He studied one big boulder intently.
"Kid, pinch off a couple small pieces of the stuff and hand them to me." he told the apprentice.
"Are you out of your mind, Deke? The roof is ready to come down and you want to blow? You're mad!" yelled the foreman.
"No, by the time you shovel it out, you'll have men dead in there. I can make one opening near the top, Look at the one boulder" Deke told him.
The foreman thought for a moment. He looked at the wall of ruble, and thought of the men trapped on the other side.
"Anyone else but you, I'd call nuts, but if you think you can do it without bringing down the rest of it, give it a try."
"If I thought I was going to bring down the ceiling, I wouldn't do it." Deke said with a grin, "I've got a reputation to protect."
The kid had pinched off some small pieces of the plastex, and handed them to Deke. He watched as Deke molded them into cone shaped charges by pressing his thumb down into the putty, and shoved them under the one large rock at four and seven o'clock positions. He told the kid to stick the detonators in, and then ran the wire down the tunnel. The kid and foreman joined him at the corner, and the kid watched as Deke stripped off the tip of the insulation off the wire with a strange looking pocket knife that was unlike any the kid had ever seen before. Instead of the alloy folding knife that all the other miners used, Deke carried a knife with not one, but three blades, and handle material that the kid was unfamiliar with. The handle scales were a rough dark chocolate brown in parts, with deep ridges and spots that stood up with no pattern he could see. The blades themselves were a flat gray color instead of the silver titanium alloy.
Deke had finished connecting the wires, and yelled "Fire in the hole!" and blew the charges. They all walked down the tunnel.
At first, nothing happened. Then a few small rocks tumbled down, and then in slow motion, the large boulder slid down. A small opening at the top of the wall of ruble had opened, about the size of a badger hole. The foreman climbed up and yelled in. A voice came out in answer.
"We're all here, nobody killed but there's some men hurt bad."
The medic was there by this time, and he took off his medical pack and handed it to Deke to hold while he crawled in.
"You sure you want to, Doc? That roof can come down any minute. The shoring equipment will be here in a minute."
"There's men hurt in there, Deke. It's my job." The medic said, and with no more comment he crawled and wriggled out of sight through the badger hole in the rubble. Then his hand came out and Deke put the pack strap in his hand and watched as it was pulled into the hole out of sight.
Deke and the kid stepped back as more rescue personal arrived.
"Come on, kid. We're done here. "Said Deke as he started walking away towards the living quarters. "You did good today, let's have a drink."
The kid followed Deke back to the living quarters, and Deke went into his room. The kid followed, and Deke pointed to a metal chair, telling the kid to take a seat. He pulled a bottle of brown liquid out of a drawer in the aluminum desk and poured a measure into a couple of cups, and sat down on his bunk.
"Here kid, put some hair on your chest. This is the real stuff, so enjoy it."
The kid swallowed, and then coughed, drawing his breath in sharply.
"What the heck was that?" he asked a grinning Deke.
"Just good Kentucky Bourbon. None of that synthahol junk they try to get ya to drink. This is the real stuff, kid."
The kid took another cautious swallow, and felt the warm glow explode in his stomach. Deke had taken out a couple of long brown objects from the desk drawer, and sticking one in his mouth, handed the other to the kid. It was the kid's first cigar, and he was unsure of what to do. He watched Deke take out his odd pocket knife, and pulling out one of the blades, neatly slice off the butt end of the cigar. He held out the knife to the kid, who took it uncertainly. He looked over the strange knife.
"Ya gotta cut the end, kid, or it won't breathe." Deke said.
The kid went to slice off the cigar end, and the thin sharp blade went right through the cigar, cutting his thumb. He let out a yelp and stared at the blood trickling down his thumb. Handing the knife back to Deke, he wrapped a bandana around his thumb.
"Jeez kid, you're supposed to cut the cigar, not amputate your thumb." Deke said laughing.
"Deke, I gotta ask you, just what kind of weird knife do you carry? I've never seen a knife with three blades, or any kind of knife that looked like that. What the heck is that?"
Deke Branson looked down at the knife he'd taken back from the kid, and he smiled a bit.
"Oh, it's just a bit of home my old man gave me when I set out on this job. Kind of a family custom, when a guy leaves home, his old man loans him something. The idea is, you have to survive to get home so you can give it back to the old man. It's a stockman pocket knife."
"What's a stockman?" the kid asked.
Deke smiled a bit sadly, and explained to the kid.
"My family are ranchers back earth side, in Colorado. Got a real working spread running a goodly herd of cattle. In the old days, the workers, the cowboys, carried this kind of knife very often. The different blades had different uses, and it was a working tool for a man on horseback. Family story has it, way back when the first Branson founded the ranch, he had a cowboy working for him that carried that kind of knife. That cowboy, old timer named Slim, taught my great great granddaddy how to shoot and ride. In fact, that's an exact replica of the knife that my granddad had made. My old man loaned it to me, and I have to give it back when I get home. Kind of like keeping a promise to come home."
Deke handed the kid back the knife, now that the thumb was taken care of, and the kid pulled open the blades one by one, studying the shapes, but he seemed most interested in the handles.
"What is this stuff? It's molded awfully poor, all those ridges and bumps."
Deke shook his head sadly now, studying the kid.
"That's stag, kid. It's prime knife handle material."
The kid looked puzzled.
"Stag? You mean like from an animal? You mean it's…it's…" the kid groped for the right word. "Organic?"
Deke was still shaking his head.
"Yeah kid. Organic. Like from an animal's antlers."
The kid puffed on the cigar, and took another drink from the plastic cup of whiskey.
"Well, I have to hand it to you, ya know how to live well in a hell hole, even if you carry a weird knife." the kid said. Then he asked, "Why do we do it? why do we risk our lives under ground up here for months on end?"
"Because if we survive a six month work tour, we live like kings for three years back earth side. Because if we survive a couple tours, we may even retire in comfort, if we keep all our limbs attached and don't get killed. Because maybe the spirit of adventure hasn't died out, and some of us always want to see what's over the next hill."
The kid reflected on Deke's words, and then swallowed the rest of the bourbon, took a last puff on the cigar.
"Come on, let's go down to the club and get a few cold ones. I heard there's two new girls came in on the shuttle last night."
"Yeah," Deke replied, "Cindy and Patty. Nice girls. We met last night."
The kid stopped, perplexed.
"They only got here last night! How the heck did you meet them already?"
"There's an old saying back on the ranch. 'If you want your flapjacks hot off the griddle, best make friends with the cook'." Deke said with that grin.
The kid again thanked whatever God there was in the heavens that he'd gotten such a wise mentor. Even if he did carry a strange knife with organic handles.
The kid watched his mentor carefully as he took a small wad of the plastex and molded it into a long rope that he shoved under the ledge of rock. He set the tiny detonator into the plastex and told the kid to reel out the wire to the next tunnel junction. Once there, he connected the set up while the kid watched his every move. To the kid's surprise, the man handed him the small black box.
"Here ya go, kid. Blow the sucker." Deke Branson told the kid.
They were deep under the surface of the moon, mining for minerals that were coming hard to get on a depleted earth. The kid had signed up to learn hard rock mining, and had drawn Deke Branson as a teacher and mentor. The kid, as all brand new apprentices were called, was deeply grateful, for if even a half of what he'd heard on the shuttle coming up was true, then Deke Branson was a genius and wizard with the compact plastex developed for the military and used by off world mining. This was his very first real job, and the old timers on the shuttle were talkative about Branson when the kid told them he was on his way to apprentice under the man. They told tales of Deke's exploits when he fought against the Black Shirts in the Second American Revolution. How when Deke was with the Constitutionalist rebels, he'd blown up the Denver headquarters of the Black Shirts right next to a children's hospital without damaging any of the children's hospital at all, and no child was harmed. It was said over 400 Black Shirts died that night. Now, after working with him for a week, he saw just what a genius he was. Deke never seemed to take measurements or make calculations. He eye balled it, and pinched off some material, and the job was done. Now he handed the kid the tiny box that was the detonator control box. Like everything they used, it had been miniaturized to be as compact and light weight as possible for easy transport up from earth.
"Thanks' Deke." the kid said as he took the box from his mentor. He put his finger on the button.
"Now, are you sure it's ready to go?" Deke asked the kid.
The kid looked down the tunnel, and saw the work personnel had cleared out, the connections were good, and the green light was on.
"I think so. Yes, It's ready."
"Well then, do it, kid. We ain't got all night." Deke said.
The kid hit the button and a muffled thump sounded from the branch tunnel, and some dust blew out of the opening. They looked around the corner, and the whole ledge of rock had just collapsed down. The work crew went in with shovels to clear the rock debris and Deke looked at his watch.
"Just about quitting time, kid. Let's grab a cold one at the club."
Jus then, from another branch tunnel down the line came an unexpected rumble.
"Let's go, Kid, that didn't sound good." Deke said as he broke into a run.
Men were running into the branch tunnel, and a foreman was giving directions. He stopped Deke and the kid.
"Hold up Deke. Some roof came down, and we're waiting for some shoring personnel to get here. But there's some men trapped on the other side that may need help. We could use some help with shoveling." he said.
"No, that will take too long, let me look it over and see what I can do." Deke said. He ran down to the wall of ruble that blocked off the tunnel, and looked it over carefully. He studied one big boulder intently.
"Kid, pinch off a couple small pieces of the stuff and hand them to me." he told the apprentice.
"Are you out of your mind, Deke? The roof is ready to come down and you want to blow? You're mad!" yelled the foreman.
"No, by the time you shovel it out, you'll have men dead in there. I can make one opening near the top, Look at the one boulder" Deke told him.
The foreman thought for a moment. He looked at the wall of ruble, and thought of the men trapped on the other side.
"Anyone else but you, I'd call nuts, but if you think you can do it without bringing down the rest of it, give it a try."
"If I thought I was going to bring down the ceiling, I wouldn't do it." Deke said with a grin, "I've got a reputation to protect."
The kid had pinched off some small pieces of the plastex, and handed them to Deke. He watched as Deke molded them into cone shaped charges by pressing his thumb down into the putty, and shoved them under the one large rock at four and seven o'clock positions. He told the kid to stick the detonators in, and then ran the wire down the tunnel. The kid and foreman joined him at the corner, and the kid watched as Deke stripped off the tip of the insulation off the wire with a strange looking pocket knife that was unlike any the kid had ever seen before. Instead of the alloy folding knife that all the other miners used, Deke carried a knife with not one, but three blades, and handle material that the kid was unfamiliar with. The handle scales were a rough dark chocolate brown in parts, with deep ridges and spots that stood up with no pattern he could see. The blades themselves were a flat gray color instead of the silver titanium alloy.
Deke had finished connecting the wires, and yelled "Fire in the hole!" and blew the charges. They all walked down the tunnel.
At first, nothing happened. Then a few small rocks tumbled down, and then in slow motion, the large boulder slid down. A small opening at the top of the wall of ruble had opened, about the size of a badger hole. The foreman climbed up and yelled in. A voice came out in answer.
"We're all here, nobody killed but there's some men hurt bad."
The medic was there by this time, and he took off his medical pack and handed it to Deke to hold while he crawled in.
"You sure you want to, Doc? That roof can come down any minute. The shoring equipment will be here in a minute."
"There's men hurt in there, Deke. It's my job." The medic said, and with no more comment he crawled and wriggled out of sight through the badger hole in the rubble. Then his hand came out and Deke put the pack strap in his hand and watched as it was pulled into the hole out of sight.
Deke and the kid stepped back as more rescue personal arrived.
"Come on, kid. We're done here. "Said Deke as he started walking away towards the living quarters. "You did good today, let's have a drink."
The kid followed Deke back to the living quarters, and Deke went into his room. The kid followed, and Deke pointed to a metal chair, telling the kid to take a seat. He pulled a bottle of brown liquid out of a drawer in the aluminum desk and poured a measure into a couple of cups, and sat down on his bunk.
"Here kid, put some hair on your chest. This is the real stuff, so enjoy it."
The kid swallowed, and then coughed, drawing his breath in sharply.
"What the heck was that?" he asked a grinning Deke.
"Just good Kentucky Bourbon. None of that synthahol junk they try to get ya to drink. This is the real stuff, kid."
The kid took another cautious swallow, and felt the warm glow explode in his stomach. Deke had taken out a couple of long brown objects from the desk drawer, and sticking one in his mouth, handed the other to the kid. It was the kid's first cigar, and he was unsure of what to do. He watched Deke take out his odd pocket knife, and pulling out one of the blades, neatly slice off the butt end of the cigar. He held out the knife to the kid, who took it uncertainly. He looked over the strange knife.
"Ya gotta cut the end, kid, or it won't breathe." Deke said.
The kid went to slice off the cigar end, and the thin sharp blade went right through the cigar, cutting his thumb. He let out a yelp and stared at the blood trickling down his thumb. Handing the knife back to Deke, he wrapped a bandana around his thumb.
"Jeez kid, you're supposed to cut the cigar, not amputate your thumb." Deke said laughing.
"Deke, I gotta ask you, just what kind of weird knife do you carry? I've never seen a knife with three blades, or any kind of knife that looked like that. What the heck is that?"
Deke Branson looked down at the knife he'd taken back from the kid, and he smiled a bit.
"Oh, it's just a bit of home my old man gave me when I set out on this job. Kind of a family custom, when a guy leaves home, his old man loans him something. The idea is, you have to survive to get home so you can give it back to the old man. It's a stockman pocket knife."
"What's a stockman?" the kid asked.
Deke smiled a bit sadly, and explained to the kid.
"My family are ranchers back earth side, in Colorado. Got a real working spread running a goodly herd of cattle. In the old days, the workers, the cowboys, carried this kind of knife very often. The different blades had different uses, and it was a working tool for a man on horseback. Family story has it, way back when the first Branson founded the ranch, he had a cowboy working for him that carried that kind of knife. That cowboy, old timer named Slim, taught my great great granddaddy how to shoot and ride. In fact, that's an exact replica of the knife that my granddad had made. My old man loaned it to me, and I have to give it back when I get home. Kind of like keeping a promise to come home."
Deke handed the kid back the knife, now that the thumb was taken care of, and the kid pulled open the blades one by one, studying the shapes, but he seemed most interested in the handles.
"What is this stuff? It's molded awfully poor, all those ridges and bumps."
Deke shook his head sadly now, studying the kid.
"That's stag, kid. It's prime knife handle material."
The kid looked puzzled.
"Stag? You mean like from an animal? You mean it's…it's…" the kid groped for the right word. "Organic?"
Deke was still shaking his head.
"Yeah kid. Organic. Like from an animal's antlers."
The kid puffed on the cigar, and took another drink from the plastic cup of whiskey.
"Well, I have to hand it to you, ya know how to live well in a hell hole, even if you carry a weird knife." the kid said. Then he asked, "Why do we do it? why do we risk our lives under ground up here for months on end?"
"Because if we survive a six month work tour, we live like kings for three years back earth side. Because if we survive a couple tours, we may even retire in comfort, if we keep all our limbs attached and don't get killed. Because maybe the spirit of adventure hasn't died out, and some of us always want to see what's over the next hill."
The kid reflected on Deke's words, and then swallowed the rest of the bourbon, took a last puff on the cigar.
"Come on, let's go down to the club and get a few cold ones. I heard there's two new girls came in on the shuttle last night."
"Yeah," Deke replied, "Cindy and Patty. Nice girls. We met last night."
The kid stopped, perplexed.
"They only got here last night! How the heck did you meet them already?"
"There's an old saying back on the ranch. 'If you want your flapjacks hot off the griddle, best make friends with the cook'." Deke said with that grin.
The kid again thanked whatever God there was in the heavens that he'd gotten such a wise mentor. Even if he did carry a strange knife with organic handles.
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