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= NEBULA EXPRESS =

a DarkSF novel

by John Argo

Page 13.

Chapter Seven

The seven surviving techs and engineers of WorkPod01 formed up on the ledge outside the work area where Mughali lay dead, stored with minimal dignity, posthaste, in a food locker. "Keep an eye on each other's backs," Ridge repeated. "Those of us with guns, don't fire unless you have to because we're running low and we won't be able to recharge until we're in WorkPod01 with the door locked."

They started for home. Single-file, they walked on the high catwalk above seemingly bottomless darkness. The light around them was darkly brassy, muted but hard, a sheen of copper like at the bottom of a deadly well. Ridge took the lead, with Tomson trailing. In the middle, Yu carried a gun, while Brenna, Lantz, Mahaffey, and Jerez carried improvised tools like hammers and crowbars.

The swaying, rocking metal grid was in many places a ribbon so narrow one had to put one foot carefully before the other while holding to the railing on one side, and not look down into the abyss on the other. Tomson joked: "At least they can't fly, so far anyway, so we're safe as long as we have the bottomless pit beside us." A few chuckles rose up in the flat air.

At first the going was slow and quiet. Ridge could hear everyone's breathing. Then there was a sudden creak, a screech of metal, a clatter of dropping steel, and Brenna screamed loudly enough to waken the dead. Or the mudmen. Ridge whirled, full of concern at losing her. "Grab her!" But someone already had grabbed her, even as the section of catwalk under her feet broke off and fell twirling down into the darkness in a long curve. A minute later, they heard a faint crash. "That's a long way down," Mahaffey whispered.

"You got that right," Jerez said softly behind Ridge. "At least this artificial gravity still works."

Yu walked behind Jerez, and he helped Brenna onto safe territory. Brenna reached behind her to tow Lantz along.

"Keep going," Tomson urged as he clambered after Lantz. "Must have been old. Or else it was a trap set up by the mudmen."

"They aren't bright enough," Jerez said.

"Don't be too sure," Tomson said. "Never underestimate the enemy."

"Probably just old and rusty," Mahaffey said. "How can that be?"

"Let's talk about ourselves," Ridge said. "Everyone has at least one good story to tell about home. Let's think about home, okay? I'll go first. Back in San Diego, I like to get up early in the morning and take my coffee and stand on the back patio. It's still foggy because the marine layer hasn't burned off, but it's not really cold. I can see dew drops on the oranges that are clustered on several little trees on the back lawn. A neighbor's big fat orange cat slinks by, stalking a mouse. It's the only time of day I really have any peace because my wife and kids are asleep and the family dog is in the kitchen eating the kibble I just poured for him."

"What kind of story is that?" Jerez said behind him. "What's the punch line?"

"There isn't a punch line," Ridge said. "That's the beauty of it. Unlike this paradise in which we find ourselves walking, it's safe and quiet and uneventful at home. About all that ever happens is that a check bounces and I have to call the bank to straighten things out."

"There are no checks anymore," Mahaffey said. "Nobody uses checks anymore."

"Just keep talking and we'll be home soon," Ridge said with a wary grin, glancing over his shoulder. His strategy seemed to be working. Keep them talking, and it would take their minds off their fears. He had to remember to keep his hand on his gun and keep an eye out for mudmen, since he was walking point.

Jerez said: "I spent my childhood in Singapore but married a Norwegian man whom I met in Belgium while I was studying engineering at Louvain. I have cute little blond children and a husband who looks like one of those college students who does puppet shows at kindergartens for spending money." Several people laughed-a nervous, low laugh that told they were relieved to dump some of their anxiety, even for a few seconds. "We have a low spot in the backyard of our home in Ostende. We call it the Low Country. When it rains, which is often, the low spot fills with water and becomes a little pond. It has slimy black salamanders in it, some of them with orange zigzags on their backs. They are harmless, and the children like to put them in a glass aquarium to watch them eat insects. We always make the kids put them back because we tell them the salamander mommies are looking for their kids."

"What are your kids' names?" Mahaffey asked, and Jerez looked at him uncomprehendingly.

Yu told his little story. "I grew up in a small apartment where the older men all smoked and played board games. They didn't like a little boy around, so I spent a lot of time on the fire escape. My mother was afraid I would fall off, but I was agile as a mountain goat. As I got older, I started climbing on the rooftops and pretty soon I could see the city around for miles."

"What city?" Mahaffey asked.

"Shanghai. Pudong," Yu said. He was silent a few moments. "It was gray and smoggy a lot because the city is so huge. There are parks, but they sit under gray rain clouds. Sometimes the sun breaks through. I saw a really lovely rainbow once, a perfect semicircle with red and blue and green like neon lighting in it. I met a girl on the rooftop too, when I was 18."

"Did you screw her?" Mahaffey asked.

"Mahaffey," Brenna said in a warning tone.

"Must you be so crude?" Jerez said.

"I never did," Yu said. "However, there was an older woman. Well, she must have been about 25 and she was a little bit stocky. Her family owned a skin theater over in Fengjiang, and she sold tickets there. She used to come home for lunch every day and sit in the sun on the roof, with her top off. She had these heavy breasts, and one day she caught me staring at them. So she looked left and right and smiled at me. I was 18 and what did I know? I went over and for one dollar she let me feel them both."

"That's a crock of crap," Mahaffey said.

Ridge turned and said to Mahaffey: "Are you trying to make trouble?"

Mahaffey's dark skin looked darker, and his eyes were wild and angry. "You know what I'm getting at, Ridge. Quit dicking around with us."

"I'm not dicking around," Ridge said softly. "I'm as confused as you are, but I'm keeping my mouth shut. In a second or two, I'm going to slap your mouth shut for you if you don't zip a lip."

"I'm ready for you," Mahaffey said. He rose in a threatening pose and pursed his lips as he walked. His eyes blazed. Ridge noticed a tear in each outer corner of Mahaffey's eyes.

Tomson growled from the rear: "I want to hear some more stories, man. Keep your tongue in your head and your eyes on the road before we all drop down the drain."

"Did you squeeze her tits?" Jerez asked.

Lantz giggled. "He probably gave her another dollar and sucked one."

"Maybe," Ridge said, "we can come back to this story later. Mahaffey, since you are such a pain in the ass, has anything ever happened to you?"

"Yeah. I'm here. Isn't that enough?"

Yu turned and smashed Mahaffey across the mouth. Yu's face was contorted with rage, and his head trembled so that his black hair shook. "You bastard. You needle me again and I'll throw you down into that shit below. I'll throw you so hard you go splat. I hope those little gray men eat you alive."

Mahaffey stopped and felt his chin, then his jaw. "Ouch." Blood ran between his fingers. Ridge was afraid the two men were going to go at it, but Mahaffey grinned sheepishly. "Okay, I had that coming. Try it again, Yu, and next time my foot is going through your head. Understand, geeko?"

Yu's eyes still blazed, and his lips quivered with revulsion. "You damned lowlife. Let's make a deal, worm. You don't talk to me and I won't talk to you. Better yet, let's not even look at each other."

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