Grounded

DATE: Year 308-B, Sol 510

LOCATION: Io High Port (Jovian Lunar Federation)

The Red Giant made a rough landing on Io. Dr. Murray and Clara followed along with Okie and Tepp in stepping out.

-Welcome to Io, a voice boomed.

A docker in a yellow pressurized suit stood at the bottom of the ramp. He held a clipboard.

-Red Giant, docked at Bay 4. Get your bags and clear the lane. We got a sulfur hauler coming in hot.

Clara looked around.

The spaceport was a cavern carved directly into the volcanic rock. Massive steel struts reinforced the ceiling. The floor was covered in a layer of dust that stuck to everything.

It was loud.

Okie turned to them. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

-This is the end of the line for us, Doc. We’re loading sulfur blocks and heading back to the Belt.

-You’ve been very kind, Dr. Murray said. She adjusted the spectacles under her half-helmet.

Tepp handed Clara a small pouch.

-It’s not much, he grunted. Crew’s share. Might get you a cubby for a week if you don't eat.

-Thank you, Clara said. She gripped the light pouch tight.

-Don't stay here too long, Okie warned. The JLF don't like loiterers. And the radiation kills.

The two roughnecks waved and headed toward the cantina. Clara and Murray were alone in the haze.

-What now? Clara asked. She looked at the cavern ceiling. Somewhere above that rock was the vacuum.

-We wait, Murray said.

-Space is big, Clara said.

-If he’s coming to Jupiter, he’s coming to Io, it’ll be the easiest moon to get traction on a stop.

Clara sighed. It was still a gamble.

-We need chits, Murray said. And we need access to the flight boards. We can't sit on a bench for a month.

They walked into the terminal. It was crowded with miners, refinery workers, and pilots. Everyone wore patches identifying their charter or contractor.

They found the Employment Kiosk. It was a battered screen bolted to a dripping wall.

AVAILABLE CONTRACTS:

SULFUR MINE 7 (HAZARD PAY)REACTOR SCRUBBER (ONE WAY TICKET)PORT LOGISTICS: CARGO RUNNERPORT LOGISTICS: FLIGHT RECORDER

Murray tapped the screen with a gloved finger. It didn't respond at first. She tapped harder.

-Logistics, she said. It’s the only one inside the shield perimeter.

-I can run cargo, Clara said. She rolled her shoulder, trying to look tougher than a young girl in an oversized flight suit had any right to be.

-They won't hire a child, Clara.

-They will if I'm cheap, Clara countered. And I’m fast. I ran messages for the WMR archivists when the lifts broke.

Murray sighed. She selected the two positions. The machine spat out two plastic tokens.

-We stay low, Murray whispered. We work the shifts. And we watch the screens.