by Milo Douglas
Inspired by Of Mice and Men--by John Steinbeck
A lonely 1.4 AUs from Sol, the Salinas Asteroid Field wound a long arc around the sun, describing a path between the orbits of Earth and Mars. A daisy chain of cargo ship engine blasts threaded the Earth to an icy body within the field: Crooks Comet.
George and Lenny stood in the airlock of the Crooks Comet mining rig with their BiNDLs on their backs.
George’s Bio-Neuro Demolition Limb was a space-worthy mining suit, light and angular with four articulated ice-chipping limbs folded behind his back, each calibrated to respond to his thoughts.
Lenny’s BiNDL was a huge, shapeless hunk of servos and tools. Chisels, grippers, a hammer, a mattock.
George took his helmet off and Lenny, watching carefully, did the same.
The airlock door opened and they stepped into a chamber called The Rabbit Hole: a circular room only about twelve feet across with a giant glass dome ceiling looking out into the solar system.
“George!” Lenny said. “Where are we?
“You forgot again?” George asked searching Lenny’s pale eyes.
Lenny nodded several times.
George stepped forward and the servos in his BiNDL hissed.
“Probably for the best you forgot so’s we can start fresh again.” He looked aimlessly to the stars beyond the dome. “Earn back all the scratch we lost on account of you.”
Lenny asked in a cottony whisper, “But where are we, George?”
“Damnit, Lenny! It don’t matter where we are! We’re late! Just work hard and keep quiet. If anything happens on this rig, meet me right here.”
“Okay.”
Lenny’s eyes wandered to the corners of the room.
“What is it, Lenny?”
“I…,” he started. “If I ask, you’ll holler at me, George.”
“I promise I won’t get mad. Just get it over with.”
“What are we doing here, George?”
The ice-chipping limbs on the back of George’s suit rose like scorpion tails. He took a deep breath and the limbs relaxed. “We’re here to earn some scratch harvesting ice, okay?”
Lenny smiled. “I can harvest lots of ice, George!”
The Rabbit Hole opened to a shuttle bay. Ice shuckers clanked about in their BiNDLs. Along the outer perimeter of the bay wearing blue and gray jumpsuits, ice skinners and ice bosses examined their work orders.
Curley—an ice boss—confronted them. Small, elbows out, moon-face scowling. He wore a black jumpsuit and had a powered glove on his left hand.
“Where you two been?” His eyes narrowed.
Lenny burbled, “We wanna earn our scratch and plant trees.”
George groaned.
“Can’t plan trees on a comet, dummy!" Curley jeered. "Ain’t no soil!”
“He ain’t smart,” George conceded, “but he can shuck a quarter-million cubic yards in a shift.”
“Big boy better shuck half-a-million cubes!”
Curley strutted to the crew shuttle.
“Lenny,” George said. “You stay away from Curly, there. He’s bad news.”
Lenny chuckled. “George. I can shuck way more than a little half-million cubic yards.” He squeezed his eyes shut and guffawed. His BiNDLe limbs went slack.
George smiled. “I know.”
George and Lenny boarded the crew shuttle with a team of ice shuckers.
To Be Continued in "Airtight" Part 2....
Illustration by Ben Bittner