CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The next day Mike put in his ten hours on his mining duties. He was working on one of the three main tunnels into the mountains starting at a single point and branching in three separate directions. The tunnels were to be miles long and would interconnect with all the other arteries built inside the mountain. This included escape shafts, ventilation shafts, and exit tubes for digging debris. They’d build expressways reaching from one end of the mountains to the other. More diggers were building the warren of offshoots, passageways and rooms for those to come.

Mike was still amazed at the speed with which the digging progressed. Still, it was backbreaking work and the full results wouldn’t be seen for years.

After work, he grabbed an energy ball. He wished for the millionth time for some thin crust pizza from Gruppo. It was not to be. He stopped by where Grith was creating the mural. He found watching the progress restful. Grith was on a scaffold today working near the top of one section.

Grith climbed down and stood next to Mike who said, “It’s magnificent. All the details. He peered closer to the bottom of one scene. “Are those?”

“Cockroaches, yes.” Another universal construct that Mike found less than comforting.

Mike pointed to what looked like a cross between a small tyrannosaurus and a kangaroo. “What is that?”

Grith said what sounded to Mike like, “Grgleplex.”

Mike said, “I don’t know that word.”

Grith laughed. “It’s a mythical animal said to exist on planets where magic lives.”

“So we’re safe from it?”

“Pretty much.”

After chatting for a few more minutes and feeling refreshed, Mike went in search of Joe. He strolled through the colony and up the ramps and stairs to the outdoors.

Just before he got to the communications room, he came across Eph, who was working with an assistant. The older man smiled at him. Mike admired the work. “It’s beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you,” Eph said. He and his assistant kept working.

Mike ran a hand on some of the newly carven letter. They glowed and sparkled and gave off a faint warmth.

Mike found his chief agriculturalist and husband in the agricultural science room. Joe sat at the wall of computer terminals that analyzed, recorded, and predicted every aspect affecting the irrigation system and the plants and fields.

Mike noted that Joe’s muscles had grown since their arrival. They’d both been in good physical shape when spirited away from Earth, but the work here had toned their bodies. The slim rations kept them thin.

Joe glanced at Mike and smiled, but quickly returned to the terminals in front of him. He pressed buttons rapidly for several more moments then stopped, pressed one last button, and smiled in satisfaction.

Mike always enjoyed stopping in the agricultural headquarters. It was crammed with plants on every wall, hanging from the ceiling, and even the floor was covered. The only space left clear was a path from the door to the computer console. They were all desert plants growing exclusively in colony soil. Joe had them arranged beautifully. It was the most restful room on the planet. The combinations of browns, black, gray, greens contrasted with the planet’s soil was soothing to the eye and spirit.

When Mike walked in the first thing he noticed was Joe’s hair. None of the men had worked in the Hrrrm equivalent of a barber shop or hair salon. They did have hair clippers. Over time the men had become more proficient. A few had even begun to give themselves elaborate rows and furrows arranged in patterns to make them look like flowers on their home worlds.

Mike said, “I like your hair.”

“I wanted to cut it all off, but working out in the sun all day, even with a hat, makes that impossible. And our hats are for shit, made from packing crate wrapping material like what we stuff the sand into for pillows. It just kind of flops on our heads.”

The men had begun making designs with the hats. Some were fanciful, some done in the designs of animals from worlds Mike knew nothing about.

Mike ran his hand over the half-inch long stubble on Joe’s head. “How did you get it to stand up as if the whole thing was a field of spikes?”

“One of the guys found a supply of what on Earth would be called axle grease. The problem is it washes out completely as soon as you take a shower.”

“We don’t have an infinite supply of axle grease?”

“No, but while it lasts some of the guys are getting quite inventive.”

“Good for them. How’s everything holding up out in the rain?” Mike asked as he did every day.

“So far not bad. Farming up here is almost easier than on Earth.”

“Come on.”

“It is,” Joe protested. “When I was on Earth, reading memories of humans to understand your planet, I read that one guy’s memories who’d been raised on a farm. I think it was before I met you. Trust me, this is easier. We provide all water at exactly the right moments. The soil is mixed specifically for each crop. The rainy seasons were a big part of what destroyed the colonies that have failed here previously. That and they couldn’t find any valuable minerals. But we’re building our canals deeper and stronger than any of the others. That’s what takes us so long. Plus we’re trying to plant the toughest freshwater underwater plants in the galaxy.”

Joe and a crew went out in the very early mornings and late in the afternoons when the storms were least to inspect the crops so they didn’t exclusively rely on the computer system.

As they were first building, then planting and irrigating, he’d personally inspected all the crops at least once a week, often once a day, making little changes so the machines and reality were always in sync. He’d said once, “The machines and computers are good, but I like to keep ahead of the machines. It’s a lot of guesswork with this soil. And I’ve had to make sure these things weren’t sabotaged. The implant they gave me has all the basics and more.”

Mike asked, “You got anything more on that cutting of perfillian wood?”

Mike and Bir had brought Joe to the underground forest. Joe had recognized it immediately and the machines had confirmed that it was perfillian wood. He’d said, “I think we can cultivate it in that dump. We should be able to analyze what’s there, including whatever was in that chemical they used to defoliate the planet and feed it into the garbage. The only thing I’m not sure about is the time element. I don’t know if the garbage and the chemicals have to ferment for centuries, or if we can speed the fermenting or if that’s even necessary. So far, it looks possible. Maybe five percent of the planets in the galaxy have the right soil and conditions.”

“How come no one discovered it could be grown inside on this planet?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bir said we could be rich.”

“Prisoners can’t be rich. To produce a significant quantity and keep it quiet until it is ready for market would be tough, but I think we should try.”

Mike said, “I still don’t get why any other colonist didn’t see the possibilities here.”

“It isn’t a normal test for colonists to run.” Joe sighed. “With Bir gone, I’ll find another assistant to work the forest. Maybe Rix. He’s so ‘up’ all the time, but it’s kind of nice to have somebody cheerful around. Have you found out anything more on Bir?”

“One of the guys told me today that Bir wanted to get into my pants in the worst way.”

“He’s got good taste.”

“I sort of noticed but never took it seriously.”

“He told me once it was hard for him to keep his eyes above the level of your crotch.”

“I missed all that, and you never mentioned it.”

“Teenage crushes kind of get lost in the rush of work around here.”

Mike left and checked on Brux in the communications room.

Brux said, “How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know.”

“How’s the investigation going?”

He brought Brux up to date. “What bothers me most,” Mike finished, “is that I didn’t really know Bir at all.”

Brux soothed. “Bir wanted you to see what was best in him. He wanted you to think well of him.”

“I wish he’d been honest with me.”

“About what? Being a hustler? Who really cares if he was? Do you?”

Mike shook his head. “If Joe had his implants, he’d be done in a second.”

“None of us is what we were.”

“I’m not even sure we’re asking the right questions.”

“You’ve got Joe. You’ll do fine with the investigation. Karsh and Cak sound like prime suspects to me.”

“I don’t know,” Mike said. “I don’t think Karsh would kill the kid. Why would he cut off his only connection to human warmth?”

“Because he’s the dumbest person on this side of the galaxy?”

“Seems to be a lot of competition for that.”

Brux said, “What can I do to help?”

“You can tell me about the hustling going on up here. You never told me.”

“You never asked. Frankly, I assumed you knew all about it. As you’ve told me numerous times, you’re not interested in cheap tawdry gossip. Which sentiment almost disqualifies you from being gay as far as I’m concerned.” Brux smiled. “And I promise I’ll keep you more up to date from now on.”

“Why would Bir have sex with Cak? He hated him.”

“Business is business.”

“That’s your whole answer?”

“Get it through that gorgeous head. He was a hustler, essentially a businessman with his body to sell. He’d been doing it for years. Why not Cak?”

Mike shook his head. “Okay, how about this then, was it true Krim wouldn’t do kinky sex and only Bir would?”

“That’s what they told me.”

“Told you?” Mike asked.

“Everyone talks to mother. Witness you right now. Krim was more into cuddling and warmth. Bir liked it wild, the wilder the better.”

“Were there regular customers?”

“I presume, but I don’t know who.”

“One of them might be the killer.”

“And so you’re going to find out who all his clients were and confront everyone he slept with and ask if they killed him? Is that making sense to you?”

“This is impossible.”

“Don’t give up,” Brux urged. “Keep at it. You and Joe will find who did it.”

“We have every intention of doing so.”

Brux said, “We have a colony meeting in an hour, and if you want energy in those new sections, I must steal every moment that I can.”

“How’s it going?”

“As well as can be expected. We only need a couple more miracles and we’re in.” He leaned back. “Plus I’m putting finishing touches on the organizational charts for integrating new colonists onto the planet. They’ve been coming gradually in that odd way so we’ve managed easily, but with each new set, no matter how small, I make refinements. We’ll manage. Unless they just dump them all here.” His voice trailed away. “We’ll do what we can no matter what.”

Mike said, “You I have faith in.”

He took the tunnel to the hangar and walked to the end of the protection the roof provided. He watched the rain pound down and listened to it rattle on the roof. The wind was less and the rain wasn’t as heavy as in mid-day or the middle of the night. He could see water flowing in all the acres they’d built. The water level was maybe half way up the side of the mesa. For a few moments Mike shut his eyes and listened to the continual thrumming of the rain on the roof. He felt the cool breeze with mists of rain in it. He opened his eyes and looked out at the gray world he was surrounded by. He heard thunder in the distance. He knew that at midday and in the early hours of the morning the thunder and lightning were almost continuous. Inside the mountain in their cubicle, they never heard it.

Mike left. He wanted to prepare for the meeting. He presumed there’d be questions about the murder. He had no answers.