Part 8 (1/2)

The bridge was silent as they sat, watched and waited.

Again Capt. Russell was wreathed in smoke. After about 15 minutes he emptied out the remainder of the pipe load and started refilling. He lit up a second pipe, got comfortable, and then: 'Mr.

Grant. Return the s.h.i.+p to a position about 500 miles directly above Copernicus. The screens are to remain up. Mr. Webb, the men may return to their normal duties. Have coffee sent up. We will wait here.'

After an hour the Captain put in a call to Mayor Love. I'm standing by. Have you any further need for our services?'

'No,' the Mayor answered. 'We seem to have weathered the storm. We're still intact and can clean up the mess ourselves. Thank you for a job well done.'

The Captain smiled. 'Thank you. I hope the next time we have a little more notice so we can do a better job. Out.'

The plate cleared. The Captain drew deeply on his pipe.

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'Mr. Webb. Return the s.h.i.+p to Callisto.'

CHAPTER EIGHT.

MOON PROSPECTOR.

'Storm!' the moon creeper said.

Pete Miller was buzzing along at five miles per hour, his tracked moon creeper following the low cliff wall on his right, through the Carpathians. He was on his way to Copernicus where he planned to refuel for another prospecting trip. Behind the creeper two trailers followed, one containing reserve supplies, and the other automatic mapping and prospecting equipment such as magnetometers, radar topological plotters, laser-spectroscope samplers, et cetera. The creva.s.se detector on the boom in front of him had not stopped the creeper for over half an hour.

Pete was an old-timer. He had been a boy when Gillespie diverted a couple of megabucks of public funds to buy a Surplus rocket and outfit it to go to Mars. His reverie was broken by the voice of the moon creeper.

'Copernicus reports a large meteor fell in the plain about one hundred miles west of them. They advise all vehicles to head for cover,' it said.

'This cliff might have enough height to protect us,' Pete said.

'My profile mapper indicates that that spot is the best place along the cliff,' the creeper said.

Simultaneously a marker of bright light appeared on the cliff face about five hundred yards ahead and the creeper turned toward it. As they crossed the pa.s.s to the point of relative safety, both the prospector and the moon creeper were silent. They were waiting for the secondary meteorites thrown up by the first meteor to begin to fall. Having a range of fairylike mountains between them and the meteor had protected them from immediate showers, but eventually the stuff with a ballistic trajectory high enough to clear the range between them would begin to come down. When it did, it would come down hard!

Three minutes later the creeper and its carriers were pulled up under the protecting wall of the cliff in a compact little group.

'That isn't much of an overhang,' Pete said.

'No, but it is the best within twenty minutes travel,' the moon creeper answered. 'Also the profile of the ridge above the cliff protected us about a minute extra before the first of the shower hit us.'

Even as the creeper spoke a number of small puffy clouds appeared in the pa.s.s. They rose from the surface and then seemed to evaporate. The edge of the clouds crept closer with each pa.s.sing moment. Occasionally the ground shook.

'Copernicus reports that all four western entrances are blocked!' the creeper reported.

Pete looked at the cloud and said, 'That must have been a h.e.l.l of a big one! How could the entrances be blocked? They have a fifty-foot overhang of twelve-inch reinforced concrete!'

'They were apparently directly downstream of the storm. They've had slides, and lots of stuff skipping in. Entrances Number 2 and 3 even have the air4ock door destroyed.'

'How long to dig out?'

'Three or four days if they have to dig out from the inside, four hours from the outside. They're checking prospectors for digging tools ... No luck. They're going to send a digging party out the north pa.s.s and around. They give the storm another fifteen minutes,' the creeper reported.

'Are the emergency cashes intact?'

'Yes, so far. But they may not be accessible.'

The storm had reached its peak intensity and was now visibly dying. The nearest portion was still one hundred feet distant, but small bits of splashed material made little splattering noises as they hit the sides of the moon creeper. Fortunately there was only sand in the area.

Pete was getting nervous, as he usually did during a storm. He started to get up, thought better of it, and then deliberately relaxed. 'I've been in tighter situations than this,' he told himself. Somehow that seemed rather unimportant. After an age be glanced at the clock. Ten more minutes. Impatiently he said, 'Well, while we're sitting here, let's transfer supplies.'

Transferring supplies was still a manual job. The automatic loading equipment needed was too big and expensive for a small operation like this.

It took Pete all of two minutes to get into the light-armored vacuum suit and to check it out.

Another two minutes was spent pumping the cabin air into the recycle tanks. Another minute and Pete was crawling along the creeper's treads, next to the wall of the cliff, toward the creeper's tender. A jump and he was on the tender's treads. He undogged a port in the side of the tender, swung the eight-inch thick door back, and plugged in the hoses that trailed behind him to the moon creeper; Reaching past the hose connections, Pete pulled out a suitcase of frozen food.

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'I hope they packed something in this one besides peanut b.u.t.ter sandwiches,' he said. His cynicism was lost on the moon creeper. Pete returned. The hoses would automatically decouple and follow him when the refueling was complete.

Back inside the creeper things were quiet as usual. 'So much for that month's work,' Pete said as he shoved the frost-covered suitcase into its storage place. The moon creeper didn't comment. A few minutes later they started moving.

'I gather our present plans are to continue back to Copernicus and help dig out one of the west entrances?'

'No, the work crew can handle that. Copernicus Control has directed us to delay and continue our current prospecting program until we're called back,' the moon creeper answered.

Pete sighed. He was antic.i.p.ating a week end in Copernicus. Now there is some question whether Harvey Reinfield got under cover in time,' the moon creeper continued. 'He was about one hundred miles northwest of here, at Mayer A. No one can raise his creeper.'

'Harv?'

'The satellite will check him in about three minutes.'

'd.a.m.n! Tap their picture when they get it. I want to see it,' Pete said.

'We are the closest party to him in this area, so we will probably be asked to investigate,' the moon creeper said.

Pete leaned over the control console waiting for the new satellite picture. 'Harv's probably just got communications trouble. Is his tender's emergency transmitter going?'

'No.'