CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Mother’s too tired to care,” came a high-pitched voice.

“I need you here,” Mike said.

“The only emergency these tired old bones will respond to if the sun is going to explode in the next five minutes. I am available for that, but not for anything less.”

“Now, please, Brux,” Mike said and switched the communicator off. While Mike waited, he worked on the stack of supply orders that he was a week behind on. Joe went over plans for the next seeds the supply ship was supposed to bring.

Brux barged into the room. “Well dear, what is it?” Without giving Mike a chance to reply Brux continued, “This had best be vital beyond my wildest dreams.” He plunked himself onto the stone slab that was Mike and Joe’s bed. Brux pulled at a corner of his moon uniform. “Look at this dreadful thing, so gray, so drab, so filthy. How’s a girl to keep her spirits up? I haven’t had it off in weeks I’m sure.”

For doing laundry most of the men opted for the unpleasant but somewhat effective chemo-rinse every day. Like on Mike’s ship to Hrrrm, this consisted of standing fully clothed under a spray of chemicals for fifteen seconds. You and your clothes dried almost instantly since the chemicals evaporated so rapidly. Mike seldom felt clean from this treatment. Eventually everyone began to have the same faint chemical odor about them. Mike longed for a real shower.

Brux bitched on, “And I know you didn’t call me up here to offer me all the hot sex I’ve been desperately longing to have. So let’s keep it brief. Mother needs her beauty sleep. Really, dear, you and Joe may be the hunkiest things in this colony, but there are limits to what I’d do for you. Cute covers a multitude of sins, and gorgeous beyond words is nigh on to sainthood, but there are limits.”

Joe smiled.

Brux worked harder than any of the other men in the colony except Mike and Joe. Brux had worked miracles with a minimum of men and materials. He had a personality similar to Mike’s dearest friend on Earth, Meganvilia, a man of extraordinary proportions and talents. Brux, thin as Ichabod Crane, older by far than most of the other colonists, wrinkled and sarcastic, had been a great help through the training and here on the planet.

Mike smiled for a moment at the outburst then announced, “I got a message from the central government. A guy named Fash arrives tomorrow. He’s leading an inspection tour with a committee composed of members of the Senate which includes a large number from the Religionist faction.”

“Do I have to learn to pray for the visit?” Brux snapped his fingers. “I’ve got an idea. As soon as I see them, I could run up to them and drop to my knees. I do some of my best work on my knees.”

Mike said, “I’m not sure how many would be interested in such generosity.”

“More than they’d care to admit.”

Joe said, “Prayer from any of us is the last thing they’ll expect.”

Brux asked, “And what’s the first?”

Mike said, “I don’t know. All I have is a message that they’ll be here tomorrow.”

Brux smirked. “I can show them some places they’ve never inspected before.”

Mike ignored the comment and continued, “They didn’t give any reason for showing up at this time. We’re not due for an official inspection until the end of another month.”

Brux said, “I’m sure they’ll make their reasons painfully obvious before they’re through. They wouldn’t want to shut us down, do you think?”

“I can’t see that. It’s taken them too long to get this far. They wanted us exiled. Now they’ve got a plan, unbelievable resources, and support from the Senate.”

“Maybe they’ve decided on extermination.”

“How would that be different from this?” Mike asked.

Brux looked at him quizzically. “That’s more bitter than I’ve ever heard you be before.”

“I’ve never felt this bitter. I thought here was a chance to be away from all the shit we had to go through. I thought that I would be free at last.”

“We all did.”

Mike looked around their cubicle and sneered. “This is the freedom we’re supposed to build on? Constant brutal work, trying to grow a few stupid crops, with men who are angry, resentful, and who don’t begin to have the skills necessary to make this place work. Their biggest skill I’ve seen is the ability to have endless meetings.”

“Those were your idea.”

Mike gave him an exasperated look. “I know that.”

Joe said, “Mike, you know the meetings are long because everyone is allowed to speak for as long as they want. It’s one of our basic rules. It was yours, and I think it’s a good one.”

Brux harrumphed and turned efficient. “I think an occasional wallow in self-pity is food for the soul.”

Mike smiled.

Brux continued, “That’s better. You’ve had your wallow, now listen, my dear, I’ve busted my butt to make a go of this place. I am the best VEQ you ever hope to meet. When these fools show up tomorrow, you and all the rest of us will have our glad rags on. Our party smiles will be fixed upon our faces until it hurts. And they will be hideously impressed with what we’ve done. If they aren’t, I’ll find a way to bury them under a million tons of granite.”

Mike chuckled, “All right, Brux. There’s nothing we can do about it anyway.”

“Far too true.” Brux rose and moved to go but stopped and posed in the doorway. “Well, Mary, enough of this. Mother has to get this place presentable. A flock of devoted, presumably non-gay, people is arriving, and we must be ready. I knew what I wanted to do tonight was more work.” And he was gone.

Mike and Joe crawled into bed and huddled together for warmth.