This Old Rock (4 page)

“No.”

“Neither did I, but I cross checked the media file and there
was an article on a mineral rights mess they’re involved in. Guess what law
firm is representing them?”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to make that guess. “Femrite,
Carson, and Lu?”

She nodded.

“Everyone knows everyone out here.” He groaned. “They’re
going to run us out and take our equity!”

Sasha shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe. Darling, the way I see
it, we have two options.”

Dolph gave her a twisted smile. “Go ahead.”

“We can always run. Or we could call Inspector McCarthy’s
bluff on the fix-log.”

Bluff? McCarthy seemed pretty sincere to Dolph.

“How so?” he asked.

“Start fixing the stuff on site. Ask her to stay until it’s
done, and play on her sympathy.”

“She could just set a deadline, leave, and kick us out if we
weren’t done by then. And what sympathy?”

“Dolph, she gave us the food. I think she’s been trying to
keep the door open a crack, in spite of everything.” Sasha sighed and brushed a
strand of hair from her eyes. “If we just look at things her way and try to
make things better wherever we can... “

Dolph shook his head. “Sash, it’s a tremendous,
heartbreaking, amount of rework. And we already did everything right! Everything!”

“I know, darling. But as far as I can tell, it’s the only
chance we’ve got left. Let’s not shoot ourselves down. If she’s going to pull
the trigger, call her bluff, and make her pull it. Until then, if she wants
things fixed, let’s fix them! Make it a war of attrition; we’re younger than
she is.”

Dolph didn’t know if he had the energy to get out of bed in
the morning anymore, let alone fight a war of attrition. But if it meant a
chance to stay with Sasha and Tina, a chance to start over... “Okay, darling,”
he finally muttered. “I’ll try again, for you. I’ll try—just don’t ask me to
hope.”

Sasha put her arms around him, and they held each other
until Tina started asking for dinner.

∞±∞

Inspector McCarthy looked at her reflection in the polished
seals, then set them down on the wardroom table. “By hand?”

Dolph inclined his head to Sasha, who answered. “I got them
out myself and did them like a telescope mirror. They fit to a quarter wave.”

McCarthy shook her head, but said “Very well. Let’s see how
they work, and if they’re okay, I’ll take them off the fix-log.”

“I’m going to re-stress the angular momentum compensator
tomorrow, Inspector,” Dolph offered, keeping his voice as neutral as possible, “And
we figured out how to get
Hopper
to pressure test the air pipes
autonomously, linking with one of the spare habitat brains.”

McCarthy raised an eyebrow, then looked at her comp. “There
are now over a hundred items on the provisional approval fix-log. And I don’t
have an infinite reserve of time.”

She seemed to think for a long time. No one said anything.

“Hmmpf. Very well. If you do the work right, at least the
next tenants can benefit. I’ll give it another week, and we’ll see where you
are then. We’ll start again tomorrow morning at oh-eight-hundred, inspect
anything you’ve done in the meantime, and advise on work in progress. Agreed?”

They nodded and she reached for her helmet. But before she
put it on, she turned.

“One more thing. I need some gravity; for the bones, and the
regularity. Modern medicine can do a lot, and I lift 500 newtons daily, but
they say one should have at least lunar gravity after ninety. Digestion more
than anything else. My ship shall replace your counterweight. My ship’s computer
can handle the slip clutches, so you won’t notice it. Good evening.”

With that, she cycled into the air lock.

Dolph found Sasha staring at him. “Ninety?” she whispered.

He gave her a grim smile. “Over. That’s over twice our
combined age; maybe we
can
outlast her. I’ll go up and do the angular
momentum compensator tonight while you bathe Tina. Then you can go up and
install your seals.” He thought a moment. She’d be outside a long time doing
that. “You should replace the external suit air lines, too. They’re your
back-up and the old ones are brittle.” A century ago they’d used some kind of
polymer that had dried and hardened in vacuum and cosmic radiation. They’d
bought new basalt fiber composite air hose that was more flexible and would
last longer. He felt better, now that his mind was back on the job. Hopeless as
it might seem, there seemed to be something he could do about their situation,
and something was a lot better than nothing.

“Darling?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Work slowly and get it right; don’t give her an out, huh?”

Dolph shrugged. “Yeah, I’ll try. Sometimes I wonder who we’re
working for, but I think you’re right; it’s our only chance. While I’m out
there on the wheel, see if you can find a bio on her. I suspect her maiden name
was Murphy.”

Sasha looked a question at him.

“As in Murphy’s law.”

Sasha smiled. “You’ve got your sense of humor back, love.”

∞±∞

Three days later, they were on the top floor of the habitat
replacing the air lock inner door seals. Tina floated in her net “cage,” and
propelled herself around like a tiny rocket by throwing stuffed animals at the
nets. Inspector McCarthy was in her usual humor, only this time, for once, her
pique was not directed at Dolph’s work.

“How can they possibly send this stuff? Look at this pipe!”

Sasha’s hands were full of Tina, so Dolph floated over to
take a look. He couldn’t see anything wrong, but knew better than to say that. Instead,
he asked:

“What do you see?”

“Not see, feel. Longitudinal cracks; feel how the fibers
bristle along this line. There’s a microscopic crack; I’m sure of it; the top
layer of broken fibers pops out of the matrix in this stuff.”

She handed the air pipe to Dolph.

About two centimeters in diameter, the basalt fiber
composite was very light and had good tensile strength—but otherwise it was
very flimsy. In use, it would be stiffened by air and be almost indestructible.
But limp? It could be cracked easily. He ran his fingers around the tube. Sure
enough, while the clean white surface looked perfectly normal, he could feel
the faintest bristling where Inspector McCarthy said it was.

“I don’t understand how this could happen in the
manufacturing process,” he said. “The robots would catch it.” Something more
was bothering him, however. Had they already used some of it? No, he hadn’t, he
was sure of that. But something was nagging him.

McCarthy shook her head. “Probably happened later. Maybe the
shipment got overstressed on deceleration. I swear some of the still loaders
pile stuff on like they’re going on milligee ion rockets instead of quarter-gee
beam riders. Tubing should go on end, not flat. Who knows what they did?” She
shrugged. “But I strongly suspect this will fail a pressure test.”

“And you just happen to have some more in your rock hopper.”

McCarthy shot him a look. “In this case, young man, I don’t.
But you might have an equivalent in your rock hopper’s spares. As long as you
aren’t flying anywhere, you can share spare stores until a new shipment gets to
you. And there might be enough good stock in this lot to do what you need if
you don’t have any more breakage. Just check it thoroughly, understand?”

Dolph swallowed his irritation. She was not the enemy. “Yes,
Inspector McCarthy.”

∞±∞

Dolph looked down at the back-up valve assembly in his hand.
It was a simple job to replace the old electrical wire connector with the fiber
optic replacement transducer, but an especially significant one. It was, after
four weeks, the last class one item on Eileen McCarthy’s fix-it list. There
were still forty-some class twos, but she’d been making sounds like she wouldn’t
hold them up for those. Getting tired of her game, Dolph thought. Damn it,
Sasha had been right—they’d worn her down. Or maybe Inspector McCarthy figured
she’d gotten what she wanted out of them—and it hadn’t, after all, been the
asteroid. Compliance? Attitude? Maybe the whole thing was just the Belt
government’s way to show him and Sasha who’s boss—to get them on their backs
with their feet flailing the air like a couple of beaten dogs. Some people got
off on power that way—the good news about that was maybe they wouldn’t be run
off the rock after all. No people, no power.

“Darling,” Sasha called. “Would you put Tina back in her
cage?”

Dolph turned around and saw Tina crawling under the netting.
He couldn’t hold back a grin. The kid had figured out how to work open the
carabiners holding the net to the stick-on cleats—she was smart. “No Tina,” he
said with some soft authority in his voice. “Go back. Inside.”

“I don’t want to. Want to see Mommy.”

Hungry, Dolph thought.

“Oh, I’ll get her, darling,” Mommy responded, anchored her
tools to the gekcro work pad and, pushed herself over toward Tina.

The bang was not particularly loud, but Dolph knew,
instantly, it meant trouble. The scene froze in his mind, then started to move
forward slowly. What to do? What to do? A sharp keening built up from somewhere
off on his left.

“We have,”
Hopper
announced, “loss of pressure in the
external suit fill line.”

That’s what he’d been trying to remember. Damn. “That faulty
pipe!” Dolph yelled.

“What faulty pipe?” Sasha said.

She hadn’t heard—she’d been busy with Tina.

“That white two-centimeter composite. It had cracks.”

“Damn!” she said, but softly. “I used it to replace the
vestibule air lines—you said...”

As if to confirm that, there was a resounding clang as the
vestibule’s external door slammed shut.

“
Hopper
,” Inspector McCarthy said, loud, but calmly, “shut
down the suit fill circuit.”

“The break is upstream of the shut-off valve,” it replied.

“At the source, then,” she added quickly.

“I show no response to the valve command.”

“Crap!” Dolph shouted. “Of course you don’t. I have it off
for testing.”

“The vestibule pressure has reached point four atmospheres,”
Hopper
reported.

That was a tenth atmosphere
above
the interior
pressure, Dolph realized. Sasha’s gaskets were holding with a vengeance, but if
it kept going on up to line pressure, the vestibule fabric would tear, and it
would explode.

“We’ll have to dump the air,” Dolph decided. “
Hopper,
vent the vestibule, and cut the general line pressure.”

“Wait,” Inspector McCarthy said. “It’s too...”

With a creak of its yielding motors, the outer airlock door,
which was not designed to withstand pressure from
outside
the air lock,
yielded, swung open a full half circle and hit the inner side of the air lock
as a strong gust of air blew
into
the room.

Then Dolph’s vent command went into effect, the vestibule
vents opened to vacuum and the air started rushing the other way—out into space.

“…late!” Inspector McCarthy finished, as Tina went flying by
her in the air stream, through the open inner and outer air lock doors and
bounced off the balloon-tight skin of the vestibule.

“Whee!” she yelled

“Tina!” Sasha cried.

“Stop venting!” Dolph screamed, then, more effectively,
said, “
Hopper
, stop venting the vestibule.”

The scream of escaping air stopped, and for a frozen moment
Dolph contemplated the bulging composite skin of the vestibule wall: the only
thing left between him and interplanetary space.

Inspector McCarthy shot by him toward the air lock in a
second, and pulled the inner door shut behind her. It immediately started
hissing, indicating that air was still escaping from the vestibule at an
alarming rate. Shocked out of his paralysis, Dolph thought quickly. By closing
the door while she went to retrieve Tina, Inspector McCarthy had insured that
at least he and Sasha would survive. He had to do something to help her and
Tina; give them more air for starters.

“
Hopper
,” he directed, “start repressurizing the air
system as needed to keep the vestibule above point three bar, understand?”

“Understood. I’ve established a feedback program to maintain
vestibule pressure at point three eight bar. This requires increasing the air
pressure, which means the leaks in the vestibule will get worse. Is that what
you want?”

“Yes, do it!” He shouldn’t get impatient, he reminded
himself. Now, more than ever, the computer software had to understand its
commands.

“Tina, can you hear me?” Sasha yelled.

“Mommy!” Tina wailed, her voice coming in clearly from the
vestibule through the open outer door to the microphones in the air lock. “Get
away from me! Mommy, the witch is chasing me!”

“Tina,” Sasha said as calmly as she could, wishing she’d
never shown the classic video to Tina. “Inspector McCarthy is not a witch. She’s
just trying to bring you to me. Please go with her.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Pretty please, Tina. Help the Inspector and I’ll give you
some ice cream.”

Seconds went by, then Tina said in a tentative little voice,
“Okay.”

“Tina, please come here,” Inspector McCarthy said. “Quickly,
child, we have to go quickly.”

“Don’t hurt!”

“I won’t hurt you, Tina. You can ride on my back where I can’t
even see you.”

Quiet. Then, in a small voice, “Okay. But
don’t
hurt.”

“I’ve got her,” Inspector McCarthy finally announced, “and
we’re heading back into the air lock.”

Tina laughed. “This is
fun
. Giddiup, horsy!”

Eons of seconds passed, McCarthy grunted and said. “Dolph, I
can’t move the outer door—the hinges must be bent.”

“The air distribution system has repressurized to normal,”
Hopper
announced.