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Russian PM not joking – extraterrestrials live among us according to MIB documentary
exopolitics.org ^ | January 2, 2013. | Dr Michael Salla on

Posted on 01/03/2013 6:36:29 PM PST by BenLurkin

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To: Silentgypsy

I just found the #12 package of Envirothon vocabulary cards. (Cash reward to myself ...)

However, the disk for the 9th grade literature course is missing now.


1,741 posted on 01/28/2013 7:32:58 AM PST by Tax-chick (Make sure you notice when I'm being subtly ironic!)
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To: ArGee

Fifteen minutes before dinner was to start Mark found Skip and told him, “Garrison committed suicide.” Skip winced. “Is that normal?” the commander wanted to know.

“Not on the evacs I’ve been part of, but deep depression is common. We’ve had to use a stretcher to move a couple who just couldn’t bring themselves to get up on the last day. Did he leave a note or anything?”

“He left a poem,” Mark handed Skip a folded piece of paper. Skip scanned it and handed it back.

“Did he have family?”

“Not really. I think he had a distant uncle, but nobody he was close to. He also didn’t seem to have any friends other than his friends here on Titan. I’m not sure he had anyone to go back to. We’ll have to have a service.”

Skip nodded. “The delays begin. We should hold it immediately after breakfast tomorrow, before loading begins. Can you find somewhere to inter him in the mines, or should I get a detail to dig a grave?”

“I think interment in the mine is an excellent idea. I have a place in mind. I’ll make the arrangements right after dinner. I think it will be good for some of the others to have something to do.”

“Our greatest enemy is time. It takes time to get all that freight up to the ship, and the more time we have, the more the depression can get to everyone. It will tax all the commander in you. But I’ll be right behind you, and I’ve been here before. Don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

“Thanks, Skip,” Mark looked genuinely grateful. “Let’s get in to dinner.”

Dinner was to have been a formal affair with speeches and toasts, but the announcement of Garrison’s death cast a pall over the assembled members of the two crews. Mark announced the preparations for the service and introduced their guests, but otherwise the dinner was just a meal. Mal would take the names of volunteers to say a few words about Garrison at the service. Someone called Jonesy would be taking a crew down to “The Devil’s Basement” to create a place to inter the body. This announcement was met with general approval. A woman named Christine, apparently one of Garrison’s best friends, offered to put together a little capsule of effects to remember Garrison by to be left at the place of interment in case anyone ever came back and wanted to know about him. Jack someone said he’d inscribe a plaque with some of Garrison’s contributions to the Titan outpost. The general buzz of activity suggested that having something to do was good, even if the event that created all the work was not. Dinner was quiet, but not overly morose. Valerio’s crew started getting to know the men and women of Titan. They’d be together for several weeks and the ship’s crew had been briefed on their role as hosts. As Skip made the rounds of the tables he was pleased to hear his crew giving their guests a chance to talk about their fallen comrade, almost naturally helping them to grieve.

After dinner Jonsey took his crew into the mine. Ensign Cartwright met with those who wanted to move to the ship as soon as possible to tell them how to prepare for the shuttle ride up on the next day. Smitty and Inhoue introduced their respective crews to each other. Smitty went over the operation of the big cranes and Inhoue’s team started establishing the order of the load. They decided against bringing down the containers – that could wait for the morning.

On first night everyone slept on Titan. Starting tomorrow the miners would move to Valerio, never to sleep again on the moon. Some of the ship’s crew would not sleep aboard again until she was underway.


Titan presented the crew of Valerio with a spectacular view of Saturn. Many of the crew were at the viewing station. The station was mostly ignored by the miners, but guests always wanted a look at the planet. The crew didn’t really have much time for standing around, so the first morning, before breakfast, was their chance. When the breakfast bell rang they moved to the dining hall. Captain Robertson’s galley crew had made breakfast and it was a delicious spread. Breakfast foods from all over Earth, as well as a few outpost favorites, were available. Miners and spacers alike dived in with a will.

As the dishes were being cleared away, everyone else began filing into the meeting room that would serve as the chapel this morning. They sang, Garrison’s friends spoke, there were plenty of tears, and plenty of chuckles as some of his funnier contributions to outpost life were remembered. Finally it was time for Commander Wilson to speak.

“This is a time to celebrate a good life, but also a time to mourn the loss of a good friend and co-worker. The mourning is all the more bitter because we are also mourning the death of Earth’s space program. We’ve been talking around it without talking about it for weeks, but we’ve all felt the pain, the sense of abandonment, the loss of a way of life, and the apparent unwillingness of the people of Earth to try to do great things. It’s weighed on us, and I felt it best if we left it under the surface.

“But that wasn’t best, apparently, for Garrison. The weight of this loss, the loss, in a sense, of who we are, was too much for him to bear. We’ve just heard testimonies to how much he loved life and loved life on Titan. When Valierio arrived, he could no longer ignore the pain, and it became too much for him to bear. It’s a pain I fully understand.

“Garrison left us this statement of his pain, and I’d like to share that statement with you now.” He took out a piece of paper and unfolded it onto the podium. He began reading:

On the edge of everything
We come to our center
At the end
We find our beginning

We crawl
We stand
We walk
We run
We fly

We break the bonds of home
And find where we belong

And do we turn away?
At the dawn of our age
Do we return to the dust?
Finally finding what it means to be men
Do turn again and become beasts?
Can we truly throw away what we can be
Content to be who we have been?

I cannot
Having touched forever
I can not return to now
I am undone

Commander Wilson folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. “Garrison was undone because he believed who he was was bound up in what he did, and he was about to face doing something else. There is pain in losing space, but we do not lose ourselves. We are not throwing away who we will become, we’re just taking a new path. We may not be able to see that path from here, but we will know it when we are walking it.

“We have suffered a tragic loss. I don’t want to suffer another. I want to stop pretending we’re not hurting as we prepare to shut down our home. I want to stop pretending that a way of life we love is not coming to a close. I want those of you who are suffering to stop suffering alone. I want us to be able to help each other through this. You are all too dear, with too much to offer, to lose like we lost Garrison.

“Man has been through many ages, agricultural, bronze, iron, technological, space. We face a new age, and there’s a place in that age for every one of us. There was a place in that age for Garrison, and we will miss him.

“And now, while we play ‘Amazing Grace’, those who would like to can come pay their last respects.”

The old familiar hymn began to waft through the makeshift chapel as people stood and walked to the casket. Each took their moment, saying goodbye in the way they knew how. When the last had passed, Jonesy and his crew of pallbearers came forward. They processed slowly out of the chapel and to the main shaft elevator. Deep below their feet, Garrison would be placed on a slab underneath a plaque next to a capsule filled with mementos of his life. For the next few days people could visit his final resting place if they wished. But soon he would be where no one could visit. The plaque and capsule would tell his story, but there would be nobody to hear it, possibly forever.

And now the business of shutting down Titan began in earnest. Valerio had four loading bays, each with a crane-shuttle that could lift several tones of cargo at a time from the surface to the ship orbiting above. There was also a passenger bay used by the shuttle to ferry their passengers. Some had agreed to move today. Others would tour the ship. Most of the work of the loading would be handled by Smitty’s crew with help from Inhoue and a few others here on Titan. The cargo could only be moved so fast, and could not be rushed.

Skip had little to do but try to calm people with his presence. He answered questions about his career as a spacer and about Valerio. He answered endless questions about the trip back. He tried to explain what had happened on Earth to shut space down, but he had a hard time because he really didn’t understand himself.


1,742 posted on 01/28/2013 8:19:54 AM PST by ArGee (Reality - what a concept.)
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To: ArGee

The cranes had their own small cargo stores. They flew down from Valerio empty, loaded cargo to their limits, then flew back up. Because each had its own loading bay on Valerio, there was no risk of collision. Smitty and Inhoue had a crew assigned to each crane moonside and shipside so the loading went smoothly, until about halfway through day one.

Smitty called Skip, “Bay one is off-line.”

“Why?”

“The crane can’t achieve lock. We’re not entirely sure whether the failure is real or just an instrument error, but the crane door won’t open while the lock indicator shows false.”

“So you’ll continue with three bays?”

“Yes, and try to use the fourth crane where possible to keep things moving. But we have to take extra time moving cargo from bay two to bay one. This will extend our loading schedule by about eight hours.”

Skip sighed. “Well, it can’t be helped. I’ll check with Commander Robertson to see if there’s anyone in his crew who might be able to diagnose that seal failure.”

Smitty signed off and Skip went to find Mark. He found Mal first.

“Captain, do you have a brig on Valerio?” Mal, apparently, was one for directness.

“We do, and we’ve had to use it a couple of times. Fortunately, it’s only been occupied about five days total from both previous evacs. We try to make it as unfun a place as we can without being actually cruel.”

“How’s that?” Mal seemed genuinely curious. “We didn’t use our brig much, but it never seemed to have the deterrent effect we expected.”

“Well, for one thing, the quarters are at one end of Valerio and the brig is at the other. There are four long cargo bays in between. The sense of isolation is acute. Then there’s the total lack of view, and a constant low rumble from the engines that can get on anyone’s nerves. Even with earplugs it can be felt. It’s not designed to be irritating, but it is. The longest anyone has lasted in there has been two days. Of course, we haven’t used it in orbit before. The engines won’t be running.”

“I’m surprised that hasn’t been challenged as cruel.”

“It might have been if the fleet had remained operational. But discipline in the fleet is actually pretty good, most ships’ brigs didn’t get used much. And, since fleet discipline doesn’t go on a crewman’s civilian record, most crewmen want to keep fleet actions quiet. Suing about the conditions in the brig would be admitting to doing a stint there. Crewman are free to talk about it, but most don’t want to. Anyway, what did your miner do , fight or property damage?”

“Why do you guess those?”

“Because, pretty much, the only other choice is insubordination, and that doesn’t typically start until it’s time to actually lock the doors.”

“This was a fight. It took three guys to restrain him. What’s worse, he attacked a woman. She’s pretty banged up.”

“Do you need any medical help? Our medical staff is first rate.”

“Our medic’s OK, but we would like help with the incarceration.”

“OK. We’ll have to hold a hearing on Valerio if you want to use our brig. It’s a formal affair, but not a trial. I’ll assign our XO, Daniel Isaacs, to represent your miner and assure his rights aren’t violated. You need to bring any witnesses and whoever is requesting the punishment, yourself or Captain Robertson.”

“I’ll take care of it. Mark usually leaves the personnel stuff to me. When should we go up?”

“There’s a shuttle right after lunch. Lt. Isaacs can meet with the accused at two, and we can convene at three. We can all be down in time for dinner. Just get the passenger manifest to operations as soon as you can so we can plan for the load.”

“Thanks, Captain,” Mal said.

“Call me Skip,” Skip replied. “On Valerio, we’re only formal on formal occasions, or when enlisted are present.”

“OK, Skip. See you at lunch.”

“Wait, Mallory. We’ve had a bay go offline due to a seal failure. Do you have anyone expert in diagnosis or repair of space dock equipment?”

Mal thought a minute. “I know just the person. I’ll make sure she’s on the shuttle with us.”

“That’s great,” Skip said. “Thanks. See you at lunch.”

“No problem,” Mal replied as she scurried away. Scurried, Skip thought, like this was the most important thing in the world. What would happen to Mal, he wondered, when she didn’t have a space mine to be Executive Officer of? Would she find a corporate position taking care of business for some senior manager? Would that be enough for someone who had practically run an outpost in the most hostile environment humanity had ever faced?

And what of the fight? Fighting was common in the evacs, but in previous missions they had been small and easy to contain. A couple of the men took a swing or two, but there was no real injury and it could be smoothed over without the need for official action. This sounded much worse. If the man was really that hard to restrain, and hurt the woman enough to need the medic, then this hearing was going to test Skip’s skill as a commander. He wanted to make the evac as smooth as he could – he knew this was hard on everyone. Invoking the Valerio’s brig would make it much less smooth. He felt uneasy as he turned and made his way to the dining hall for lunch.


With the shuttle secure in Valerio’s dock, Skip sent the seal expert aft to look at Bay One, with one of Valerio’s crew. Skip introduced Dan to Mal and then sent Dan and Evan Reynolds to hold their briefing before the hearing. Mal and Dan didn’t talk about the fight. Dan was supposed to be representing the accused, so Skip didn’t want him hearing any version but the version Evan provided.

Mal introduced Skip to Beverly Smith, the victim in the fight. Skip explained to Mal that the purpose of the hearing was to ensure that Evan really deserved the punishment, and the nature of the punishment he deserved. Evan got representation to ensure he was treated fairly according to the rules established by the Fleet. This was not a trial, so Beverly did not need a lawyer. But Mal could speak up at any time if she felt that Beverly had concerns that were not being addressed. Also, since this wasn’t solely a Fleet matter, Mal could speak up if she was concerned that the Outpost’s needs were not being addressed.

The hearing was anything but boring. Apparently Evan and Beverly were lovers on Titan. Evan didn’t have family back on Earth, but Beverly did. Evan had suggested the two room together on Valerio for the voyage back. She thought she needed the time to prepare herself to return to her husband and children. This lead to a spat. He knew this day would come. He hoped she would decide to leave her family for him. She had never done or said anything to give him that idea. The spat grew into an argument and the argument got ugly.

After Mal and Evan had described the event, Skip asked, “Is it true, Evan, that this was something you expected from the beginning?”

Evan was clearly upset. “Yes, Captain, but eight months is a long time. I thought I could handle it when we started. I guess I thought I was getting to Beverly the same way she was getting to me. It sure felt like more than a fling.”

“But, you’re never guaranteed that the other person in the relationship will feel about you the same way you feel about them. Have you never had a woman break up with you when you really wanted the relationship to last?”

“Yeah, but it hit me hard this time. I mean, I’m losing everything. This mining, it means so much to me. Now it’s going away, probably never to return, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know if I can mine ore back on Earth. I don’t know if I’ll want to work when you can’t just leap down the shaft the way we can here. To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to return Earthside at the end of my tour. Losing that, and then losing Beverly – I guess I snapped.”

“Beverly, do you have anything to say before I consider the punishment?”

Beverly just looked at the floor and shook her head.

“Mal, would you and Dan join me in my ready room for a brief discussion?”

The two officers and the exec from Titan stepped through the door into the Captain’s ready room, really an office near the Ship’s bridge. Skip motioned them to seats across from his desk and sat down. “Mal, if you hadn’t proposed the brig, I would probably not incarcerate Evan for this. He doesn’t seem to be a risk for doing it again. I can certainly understand his pain, but it also appears he’s gotten control of it.”

“I understand, Sir,” Mal replied. “But I’m afraid of the example it might make for our crew if he isn’t punished.”

“I didn’t say he wouldn’t be punished, I’m just suggesting the brig might be extreme.”

Dan jumped in. “But if you give him the brig, just for a night or two, we can get back to normal pretty quickly. Anything else you do may have to be longer.”

Skip nodded his head. “That makes sense. One night in the brig would be tolerable. But do you think the Outpost crew might sympathize with him a little?”

Mal nodded. “I do, and that’s a little bit of what I’m afraid of. I want my crew to put a lid on their emotions until we get back Earthside. A little fear won’t hurt. Hopefully he’ll hate your brig enough to discourage any future use.”

“OK, let’s go back.”

They went back into the hearing room. Evan started to stand, but Skip waved him to his seat. “This is a hearing, Evan, not a trial. The law in space is a little different than the law on Earth. I have a lot of discretion to do what I think is best for everyone. It’s my job to to assure discipline, not establish justice. Your breach of discipline is pretty serious. It’s not just that you hurt Ms. Smith, it’s that you let your loss of control hurt the discipline of the outpost, and possibly of my ship.”

Evan nodded his head. “I understand, Sir.”

Skip said, “On the other hand, I don’t see this as a recurring problem. I think from this point forward you’ll keep control.”

Skip was a little more enthusiastic. “Oh, you have my word, Sir.”

“Under normal circumstances such an infraction might deserve a more serious punishment, but these are not normal circumstances. I’m sentencing you to one night in the ship’s brig as a reminder to you and everyone else how important discipline is for the time we have remaining together. In addition, you will be moved to Valerio tonight and remain on the ship after your release. You are to keep a reasonable distance from Ms. Smith for the duration of our journey home unless she approaches you. Lieutenant Isaacs, do you have any objection?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then it will be entered in the log. Lt. Isaacs, please show Mr. Reynolds to the brig and secure him. Post a guard. He is to be released tomorrow morning in time to get ready for Breakfast.”

The room cleared quickly. Dan led Evan back to the brig. Skip walked with Mal back to see what could be done with Bay One.

“I never cease to be amazed at how much stuff we can push through space,” Mal said as they walked back through the freighter’s cargo area.

Skip nodded. “The physics is pretty basic. We toss enough stuff we don’t care about in the wrong direction, the stuff we care about goes in the right direction. Valerio was built in orbit and is not designed to withstand atmosphere, so the engineers could focus on making her withstand the forces from her engines. It makes the design much simpler than the vessels that get from the planet to orbit. The cranes can do that, but they can’t carry nearly the tonnage. The trade-offs mean we can move a lot of freight. It’s the only thing that made the mines close to profitable.”

“The mines weren’t profitable?” Mal seemed surprised.

“No, the fleet and the mines needed considerable subsidy to get started. The hope was that we would solve the remaining cost problems and wean the entire operation off the subsidies at some point. Who knows, maybe we still would have, but the timing of a technical breakthrough is tricky. The people of earth ran out of patience before anyone figured it out. But, we’re leaving everything in place out here in case that changes.”

“Why did the government subsidize space in the first place?”

“Lots of reasons. Man needed a frontier. Many wanted to accomplish something amazing, and we’d pretty much accomplished what we could on Earth. There was promise of spectacular profits from the moons of the outer planets if we could just get there and find what they had. Look, all new methods of transportation needed a little push before they could pay for themselves. If you look at the history of space travel you’ll find lots of influences arguing for that push. Personally, I think we tried to conquer space because it’s here. But, as in the late 20th century when we were split into multiple nations, the cost turned out to be too steep. People got too comfortable, and the sacrifice necessary to keep travelling to uninteresting rocks became too great.”

“These rocks aren’t uninteresting!” Mal objected.

“Not to us, Mal, but we have a different picture. To the people of earth, when they didn’t turn out to have inhabitants, they became uninteresting. What’s the point? We have rocks on Earth.”

Mal shook her head. “Sometimes it’s so frustrating I could scream. I understand Evan’s frustration. To be defeated by space would have been one thing. To have discovered that we just couldn’t make it work would have been acceptable. But to just quit trying …” she couldn’t finish the thought.

Skip approached the Chief who was overseeing the seal inspection. “What’s it look like, Chief?”

“Not good, sir. Mr. McNeely, here, says the sealing gasket itself is shot. It’s a form-fitting piece, he doesn’t have the equipment to modify anything on Titan, and there’s no door similar enough to modify. It looks like we’ll be without the bay for the rest of the trip.”

“OK, Chief. Thanks. And thanks to you, McNeely.” McNeely had just popped his head out.

“Sorry the news wasn’t better, sir.”

“It’s to be expected,” Skip sighed. “All right. I have to get back to the planet for dinner. Mal, are you coming down or would you rather eat here tonight?”

“I’d like to stay, if that’s OK. Do you think you could arrange a tour of Valerio for me?”

“Certainly. Skip went over to a panel on the wall. “Lt. Isaacs, intercom 2157.” The phrase echoed a moment later for loudspeakers throughout the deck. Dan’s voice came through the speaker, “Isaacs.”

“Is the prisoner settled with a guard?”

“Yes sir, I’m headed forward now.”

“Please meet Ms. Dawson in the lounge and give her a tour of Valerio. I’m headed back to the outpost.”

“Aye, sir. I’ll be there in about 5 minutes. Isaacs out.”

“Out,” Skip replied. He and Mal walked forward until he’d reached the crew lounge. He got her settled and headed for the dock to catch the shuttle to Titan.


1,743 posted on 01/28/2013 10:05:42 AM PST by ArGee (Reality - what a concept.)
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To: ArGee

Just grass and gravel in the main front part of the yard. In winter the grass is under snow, so I snow blow it. mrbb started that. I would have only done the pathways.

It is nice thought to have the whole front area of the house snow blowed. It is nicer when i take the dog out or unload groceries or take out trash. I don’t have to walk through 4+ feet of snow.

Not a inch of pavement in this town. The nearest is 5 miles out.


1,744 posted on 01/28/2013 10:38:05 AM PST by ColdOne (I miss my poochie... Tasha 2000~3/14/11)
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To: Monkey Face; LibreOuMort; Silentgypsy; Tax-chick; NicknamedBob; Darksheare; null and void
A local church has a sign up:
If God is your Co-Pilot, switch seats.

I have to go shovel snow. I need a two-seater snow shovel.

1,745 posted on 01/28/2013 10:56:40 AM PST by fanfan ("If Muslim kids were asked to go to church on Sunday and take Holy Communion there would be war.")
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To: ArGee

Thanks for the literary interlude.

Ever tried your hand at NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month)?

Had a college buddy tackle it a couple years ago; he didn’t produce anything worthy of the NYT Best Sellers List, but his product was in a sort of “Hitchhiker’s Guide” vein; funny, intertwined with cross-linked and unexpected elements, and the ending was a nicely structured “ta-da”; a literary pulling of the rabbit out of the hat that would have evoked thunderous applause from a live audience.

Look into it, if writing is very much in your blood.


1,746 posted on 01/28/2013 11:53:22 AM PST by HKMk23 (Cultures succumb not to ideas, but to superior cultures. Invoke the "Super Culture." Matt. 9:38)
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To: HKMk23

Right now I think I may be too ADD for a novel. This one got kind of long, and could possibly be longer. We’ll see what you all think of it when it’s finished.


1,747 posted on 01/28/2013 2:01:55 PM PST by ArGee (Reality - what a concept.)
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To: ArGee

At dinner, Skip and Mark went over the events of the day as each had seen them. They discussed how things had gone with Evan’s hearing and the broken seal on Bay One. They talked through the current schedule of the evac. They reviewed who would be moving permanently to Valerio tomorrow.

They talked a little about how things were on Earth when Valerio left. They talked about both the mining company and the fleet, what was still running, morale, how much longer until everything shut down.

“We have something pretty spectacular for tomorrow,” Mark said. “We’d like everyone who can to come to the observation room tomorrow at about 1:00 local.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow the sun rises over Saturn. We should have a perfect view about 1:13. If we gather at 1:00 we should be able to dim the lights in time. Most people really enjoy it when they see it the first time.”

Skip thought about all the “firsts” he’d seen since he started his career in the Fleet. They never became mundane. The things he saw from space always fascinated him. He imagined Mark would be surprised at how often Skip still took his opportunity to see Earth rise over Luna, or the sun rise over Earth. He thought of all the people who would never see these things, who never cared if they ever saw these things. He thought of all the things men would never see. He shook his head slightly.

“What?” Mark asked.

“Oh, sorry,” Skip answered. “I was thinking about the fact that this would be the last time anyone will see the sun rise over Saturn from Titan – from anywhere. Why do people keep throwing space away?”

“Space is big,” Mark said. “It can’t be solved in a day, or a year. People get the fever, their imagination captures them, but it takes time before anything they imagine becomes reality. They don’t have the patience to see it through, especially when we elect new administrations every few years. Sooner or later someone asks, ‘What are we getting for our investment?’ The answer is never satisfactory. We abandoned Luna in the late 20th century, we abandoned Mars in 2098, and now we abandon the moons of Jupiter and Saturn.”

“Do you suppose we’ll ever try again?”

“We might, but I doubt you or I will live to see it. The most we can do is leave Titan in as good a shape as possible, so they can reach farther if they do try.”

“How much longer before the outpost is ready?”

“Oh, we only need another day. We’re waiting until you have Valerio nearly loaded. I’ll try to time it so we can cast off as soon as the Bays are sealed, but you may have to wait a little while for us.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t rush. Maybe it would be good for your people and my crew if we do something special to mark turning off the lights.”

Mark thought for a minute. “That might be good at that,” he said. “Let me give it some thought.”

And with that, the dinner conversation turned to more practical matters.


Day three, and tempers were already becoming thin. There just wasn’t enough for the miners to do. Skip, Mark, Val, and Dan spent breakfast considering ways to break the boredom. The Fleet had a few sporting events designed for the confines of a cargo hold. One was a variant of soccer with team members a lot closer and the walls in-bounds. All sorts of bounce shots became possible and added an intensity to the game without making it truly dangerous. The games couldn’t be too long as they required a great deal of stamina. It sounded just the trick to help while away the hours before Valierio was ready to leave. The leaders decided to establish 8 teams and run a double-elimination tournament. Since Fleet crew were familiar with the game, teams would be established that evenly distributed Fleet players among the miners. The two execs were put in charge of setting up and running the tournament. The recently-freed Evan would be included. The first games would begin after sunrise. All felt that arranging the teams and establishing some practice schedules should be enough to keep everyone busy until then.

Eight teams were formed, each with 5 players, two alternates, and a coach / captain. The Titan Space Soccer League was comprised of the Panthers, Tigers, Broncos, Bulls, Cowboys, Astronauts, Diggers, and Ions. After a morning of practice, the coaches requested a set of pre-tournament games so the miners could get in some scrimmage. They agreed to four games consisting of three 15-minute periods.

The mood at lunch was far better than it had been at breakfast. The dining hall was filled with talk about the tournament and how the practices were coming along. There was one round of games scheduled for that afternoon. Between Valerio and the outpost there were four playing fields, so everyone would be playing. They’d view the sunrise, get in a little practice, then start the tournament.

At 1:00 people were done eating and had begun moving into the viewing room. The hosts were kind enough to ensure Valerio’s crew had the best view. Eight would be watching from orbit as they were on board stowing gear. The rest were on the moon. At 1:10 all the lights were dimmed. The star field outside would have been breathtaking, but the crew were used to an unhindered view of space. On earth, seeing the Milky Way as it threaded its way through the night sky was a rare experience, but not from the space between the planets. The miners were also accustomed to a very dark sky that allowed them to see the stars unhindered. It wasn’t the stars out there that made the show this afternoon, it was their own star.

Just after 1:12 Saturn’s atmosphere turned a brilliant white. Skip had nearly missed the first purple rays of light as they bent around the planet through Saturn’s atmosphere. Slowly they brightened to a brilliant blue, then the white that told them all the sun was about to crest the planet. The brilliant explosion of sun light drew an audible gasp from the crew. The miners smiled as their guests reveled in the beauty that could be seen nowhere else but Titan.

Skip could not explain why this sunrise was so different from the others he’d seen. The sun was small compared to the way it looked from the inner planets, but he’d seen the sun shrinking the entire trip out. He’d seen the small sun before Valerio went into Saturn’s shadow a few days before. But somehow the way it exploded into view, the way the rays scattered in Titan’s frigid atmosphere, maybe it was just because he’d been missing it without realizing it, something made it spectacular. Skip turned to Mark and said, “Thank you. This is absolutely breathtaking.”

But the moment didn’t last. An alarm sounded loudly through the station. Mark went to an intercom and toggled the switch. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“We’ve got a leak in Sector 3, Sir” the voice at the other end replied.

“Is anyone there?” Mark wanted to know.

“No, Sir. Everyone’s either here, in the viewing room, or in orbit. The sector is clear. I’ve sealed the sector off, but we haven’t deployed anyone yet to patch the leak.”

“Is it bad?”

“Not yet, Sir. Only a Class II leak. Unless something changes there’s no hurry. Should I send in the repair team?”

“Let me get up there before we do anything,” Mark answered. “I’m on my way.”

“Mind if I tag along?” Skip asked him.

“No, you’ll be welcome.” Mark walked briskly to the command center.

“Do these leaks happen often?”

“Rarely, but we train for them. We have good atmosphere scrubbers and a pretty good capacity for making more, but we try not to lose any more than we have to. When the outpost was new it was rare to have one a year. Of course, like everything else, the outpost has been declining and we’ve had to deal with them more and more. This is probably the third leak in the last six months.”

“I guess I’m not used to treating an air leak like anything less than an emergency. Obviously on Valerio we don’t have as much to spare.”

They went into the command center and pulled up the schematic for Sector 3. It was mostly a set of hallways and storage units, no living quarters or key facilities. “Is there anything left in these storage areas?” Mark asked.

The Officer of the Watch, an engineer named Nelson, consulted a list. “No, everything’s been pulled out of those rooms.”

“So, it doesn’t seem to me there’s any reason to keep Sector 3 open,” Mark observed. “We have a bit of a detour to get to the main entrance to the mine, and back here to the sickbay, but nothing to create a real problem for the next couple of days.”

Nelson looked at Mark for a minute. “Are you suggesting, Sir, that we not repair the leak?”

“I’m suggesting, Nelson, that it seems to be a complete waste of time to repair a station that we’re abandoning. We can note in the log that Sector 3 is not safe in case anyone ever tries to re-occupy this outpost. Otherwise, it doesn’t seem worth delaying the tournament over.”

“But, Sir,” Nelson protested, “you can’t just leave it unrepaired while we have the means to repair it.”

“We have the means, Nelson, but not the motive. Even though we’ve never lost a man repairing a leak, the outpost has only grown weaker with time. We don’t know what could happen with men in there. Why take any risk when we’re about to remove the last man for good in less than three days?”

As if to emphasize his point alarms began to ring again. One of the engineers shouted, “The break is wider, Sir. It’s now a Class V leak.”

“Class V, Nelson. That’s bigger than we’ve ever dealt with before. Can you see that it might make sense just to leave it?”

“I guess I really can’t take seriously the thought that she’ll be completely abandoned, Sir. It just won’t sink in that when we break orbit, nobody will care what happens down here. That’s just so unreal to me.”

“Is it fully sealed off? Barrier doors holding?”

Nelson nodded. “The rest of the outpost is in no danger, Sir.”

“Let the air bleed away, then. One less piece of this place we’ll have to say goodbye to. Cancel the alarms”

“Yes, Sir.” Nelson turned back to his desk. The alarms went silent.

“The fleet’s been abandoning equipment throughout the system,” Skip observed. “It’s taken some getting used to, but the cost of bringing every broken piece of gear back to Earth just isn’t worth it.”

“It’s clearly the right thing to do,” Mark agreed. “But it’s not easy to just watch your home fall apart. That’s not how we were meant to live.”

“No, it’s not,” Skip agreed. “The tournaments should be getting underway soon. Why don’t you try to enjoy the games. I’m going to go check on the loading operation. If it’s all going well I should be able to join you in about half an hour.”

“OK, Skip, see you soon.” Mark headed off in the direction of the main gym while Skip turned toward the loading dock to talk with Smitty.


1,748 posted on 01/28/2013 2:19:56 PM PST by ArGee (Reality - what a concept.)
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To: Darksheare

Misread “warp drive” as “wasp drive.” *Groan.*


1,749 posted on 01/28/2013 2:35:01 PM PST by Silentgypsy (If you love your freedom, thank a vet.)
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To: Tax-chick

Misread “Monday busies” as “Monday bruises.” Hmmm....


1,750 posted on 01/28/2013 2:42:04 PM PST by Silentgypsy (If you love your freedom, thank a vet.)
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To: Silentgypsy; ArGee; HKMk23; Tax-chick; Darksheare; fanfan

Misread posts as “toasts.” Fire me.


1,751 posted on 01/28/2013 3:01:29 PM PST by Monkey Face (There is no "Chocoholics Anonymous" because no one wants to quit. ~~ Shoe)
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To: Tax-chick

Since unable to show up to hunt for disk for ninth grade literature course, am sending positive vibes your way!


1,752 posted on 01/28/2013 3:57:09 PM PST by Silentgypsy (If you love your freedom, thank a vet.)
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To: ArGee; Tax-chick
they became uninteresting. What’s the point?

Sounds like you, T-c, when you're talking about cake frosting and ice cream....

1,753 posted on 01/28/2013 4:09:57 PM PST by Silentgypsy (If you love your freedom, thank a vet.)
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To: Monkey Face

Eek! If *you* get fired, I’ll definitely get kicked outta here. Please reconsider the imperative or think of the alternative: trying to make me feel better after screwing things up!


1,754 posted on 01/28/2013 4:21:50 PM PST by Silentgypsy (If you love your freedom, thank a vet.)
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To: Silentgypsy; All

Good night and sweet dreams, y’all!


1,755 posted on 01/28/2013 4:23:00 PM PST by Silentgypsy (If you love your freedom, thank a vet.)
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To: ArGee

“We’re on track for getting off planet tomorrow evening,” Smitty reported. “But we do have one small problem.”

“What’s that?” Skip asked him.

“Crane 3’s dead.”

“Dead?”

“It died as we were getting ready to lift off and it won’t re-start. Rogers thinks it’s the fuel transfer pump. It’s not something he can repair and we don’t have any spares.”

“How much will that impact your schedule?”

“Not by more than four hours, Sir. We’re pretty efficient with one crane per bay. The extra crane was only making a slight difference. The toughest part is going to be getting it back up to the ship when we’re done with everything else. These guys aren’t powerful enough to carry one of their own so we’re going to have to rig two to work together. Then we’ll have to maneuver the crane into the dead dock and secure it. That will take two to three of the hours.”

“That seems like such a waste of time,” Skip looked frustrated.

“It’s not something we really have a procedure for, Sir,” Smitty offered. “This has only happened once before to Armada, and they just left it until they could return with the parts to repair it.”

“Actually,” Skip said, “That’s a pretty good idea.”

“Come again, Skip?” Smitty was a little taken aback.

“Why would we waste a lot of time and energy to bring a broken crane back to Earth that will never be used again? We should leave it here until someone wants it badly enough to come get it.”

Smitty just looked at his C.O. for a minute. “You’re serious!” he exclaimed.

“Smitty, these things weren’t made to haul external cargo. That’s a serious refit. They weren’t made to fly in formation. That will take some serious piloting. Once you get the dead crane aloft, someone will have to go EVA to maneuver it into the dock. That’s some serious risk. So, yes, I’m serious. What are we going to do all that for?”

“But it isn’t ours, Skip. We can’t just leave someone else’s equipment here. It’s not our call.”

“It’s my call,” Skip said. “I’m responsible for the safety Valerio’s crew, its passengers, and its cargo. The ship has a Captain to make the decisions concerning safety when out in space. I’m not risking my crew for a crane nobody’s ever going to use again. If the Fleet isn’t happy, I’m sure someone will be willing to make a run back out here to get the crane.”

“Skip…”

“Subject’s closed, Smitty. Have Rogers pull anything off the crane he thinks might be useful . We leave the rest here.”

“OK, Captain.


The Panthers, Bulls, Astronauts, and Ions survived the first round of play. Mark came to Skip to discuss the possibility of trades.

“I don’t know,” Skip mused. “I can imagine the teams wanting to make themselves better, but it’s not as if the losing teams are trying to build something new for the future. With nothing to bargain for, the losing teams will just give up their best players. I don’t want to create too many rules, but we should do our best to keep this interesting.”

“I was hoping you had done this before and would have some good ideas. If you’re just considering options, I have an idea that I think would work. ”

“I really don’t have particular experience to help you with. This is the longest trip and the biggest outpost we’ve evaced so far. Much of this is as new to me as it is to you. If you have a good handle on this, I’ll back whatever you come up with. If you need me to, that is.”

Mark smiled. “I’m not worried about you and me always putting up a united front. But the more often we’re together, the better. There is a bigger question I need to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“One of my men has asked to be left behind on Titan.”

Mark was speechless for just a moment. When he finally found his voice he asked, “Is he serious?”

“He seems to be. He says he doesn’t want to just kill himself like Garrison, but he doesn’t have anything to look forward to back on Earth. He wants to die on Titan, but to live out as long a life here as he can. He says he wants to die ‘at home.’”

Skip drew his hand across his forehead. He was surprised it was so dry, he was sure he was sweating. “That is definitely outside my experience. I’m not going to have any easy answer for you there, Mark. Have you talked with Mal?”

“Not yet. I honestly don’t want this thing to spread. I don’t know how many people might ask for the same thing if they knew someone else had already broken the ice.”

“That makes some sense. Of course, if you do decide to leave him here, you can’t keep it to yourself. If nothing else people will wonder where he is when it’s time to go. This cat will come out of the bag. Wow. He doesn’t want to leave. Honestly, I don’t know what to say.”

“Can we leave him here?”

“I don’t think that’s the question,” Skip offered. “I think the question is, ‘Can we make him go?’ In all the time the Fleet’s been in operation, there’s never been an issue with someone returning to Earth when it was time. I really can’t understand why he wants to stay.”

“Titan is a pretty special post,” Mark said. “Because it’s so far and the ore runs are so infrequent, people have long cycles out here. They have to be senior miners to apply, and they have to be accepted. It’s a pretty rigorous acceptance process, so those who get to come think of it as a choice opportunity, accepting only the best of the best. We’ve also gone to a great deal of trouble to make this a special home away from home so we won’t have problems with people staying out here for a full cycle. People become loyal. I think we’ve only had 2 or 3 who’ve come for a cycle who haven’t asked to return. Nobody on the moon right now has been here less than 3 cycles. I can imagine why someone would stop thinking of themselves as an Earthlink and start thinking of themselves as a citizen of Titan. And this time it’s not a cycle back to Earth, it’s a full-fledged return. I’m really afraid if the idea gets out Lem will have a lot of company.”

“That’s his name, Lem?”

“Yes.”

“So, the problem is compelling him to leave against his will balanced against the fact that he is committing a slow suicide. If he just committed suicide, like Garrison, the decision would be made for us. But if he threatened suicide, you’d be compelled to intervene. I’m not sure what the call is here.”

“Isn’t he trespassing if he stays?” Mark wondered.

“Oh, at some level he is. But at another level he’s trespassing in an abandoned house on a deserted island. Nobody’s property rights are being violated if nobody cares about the property. On Earth an abandoned house would still be protected, but that’s because the neighborhood would care how the abandoned house was treated. But the nearest neighbor will be a long way away and totally uninterested in what happens here. If we ever do return to space, Lem will be long gone before this outpost is re-opened. I don’t think we have much right or reason to force him to go with us.”

“But we can’t just leave him here to die!”

“Technically, we can. It’s his call, not ours, when and where he dies. My big concern is the idea seems romantic now, but gets old in a couple of weeks. Once we’re gone, he can’t change his mind. I need to have as much confidence as I can that won’t happen.”

“I wish I could argue with you. I’d like to find some reason to lock him up in your brig for the ride home. I might have trouble living with myself if we just leave him here.”

“I hear you. But I have an idea. One of my men has a degree in counseling. He’s been pretty good when I’ve had people with issues before. Occasionally we ship out for a long haul after someone’s had a really bad fight with his or partner, or after a really tough custody hearing, and John helps them talk it through. This is a little bigger than that, but I think I want John to talk with Lem. If Lem still wants to stay after the talk, I’m afraid we’ll have no good choice but to let him.”

“I guess if that’s the best we’ve got,” Mark said, “then that’s what we’ll go with. Let me know when you’ve talked with John and I’ll put you both in touch with Lem.”

“OK. Oh, and it looks like we’ll be able to leave tomorrow after dinner. We’ll use the afternoon to make sure all the personnel are settled aboard Valerio. Whatever you had planned for a good-bye, it will happen after lunch.”

“All right,” Mark said. “I’ll make sure we’re set up. Call me when you’ve talked to John.”



1,756 posted on 01/28/2013 5:04:48 PM PST by ArGee (Reality - what a concept.)
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To: ArGee

Skip was a little more enthusiastic. “Oh, you have my word, Sir.”

Should be:

Evan was a little more enthusiastic. “Oh, you have my word, Sir.”


1,757 posted on 01/28/2013 5:15:57 PM PST by null and void (Gun confiscation enables tyranny. Don't enable Tyranny)
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To: ArGee

John licked his lips. “Let me get this straight. You want me to decide whether this Lem can stay behind when we leave or whether he has to go with us?”

“No,” Skip answered. “I wouldn’t put that burden on you. This will have to be Lem’s decision. I don’t even think I can make it, although there might be circumstances under which I’d force him to leave against his will. I want you to talk with him. I want to know that he fully understands what it might be like to be here entirely on his own. And I want you to see if you can find anything else behind this, anything that might cause him to re-consider. Maybe he’s afraid of seeing an old girlfriend or his father or something – anything other than a real desire to stay here. Just push and probe. At the end, unless you find he’s not competent, we’ll abide by Lem’s decision. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah, I think I get where you’re coming from. It’s like talking with someone who’s thinking divorce and helping him discover that he’s got a transient issue that’s easy to work through, not a major difference that means they can’t live together.”

“Right, and no more responsibility for the outcome of this than you would be for that divorce discussion. You’re helping him think, not helping him decide.”

“OK, when do we meet?”

Skip looked at his watch. “I think round two of the tournament ends at 4:00. We’ll be eating at 5:00. How about the two of you get together right after the game? We’ll bring you dinner if you’re not done by 5:00. We don’t want to create pressure to finish by a particular time. Oh, and don’t talk with anyone else about this until we’re ready to announce Lem’s decision. The outpost commander is concerned others may jump on the bandwagon.”

John nodded. “I’ve seen how people seem to respond to this place. It’s much more of a second home than the other outposts are.”

The two of them stood. John went back to the loading dock where he’d been working. Skip went to find Mark and, hopefully, catch a little of the arena soccer matches.

Mark turned out to be easy to find. He agreed to set up a room where John and Lem could talk uninterrupted. Dinner would be taken in to them if they needed. Mark looked particularly relieved that he didn’t need to make this decision alone. Skip asked him if he was doing OK.

“I’ve been working in the mines for over 30 years. I’ve worked my way up to outpost commander by being a solid worker and by taking good care of the people who’ve worked for me as soon as I was a supervisor. Helping people out this far away from home is a challenge sometimes, but within the past three days I’ve been pushed harder than I’ve ever been pushed before. My first suicide. My first real fight. A question like I NEVER thought I’d have to answer. And in-between more little nits and bits that I haven’t even bothered you with. In 30 years I have never been this exhausted.”

“Nothing really tests people the way this shutdown has tested people,” Skip agreed. “I don’t know how everyone else on Earth is taking it, but those of us in the mines and in the Fleet have a deep attachment to space. Coming up here, being ABLE to come up here, is so fantastic that we can hardly believe it. We sometimes find we’ve been taking it for granted, but then space shows us something new and wonderful that we’ve never seen before. We see something like that sunrise over Saturn, or a spectacular solar flare, or a meteor crashing through Saturn’s rings to burn up in its atmosphere. We see those things and we know we’re part of something monumental – man’s conquest of space.

“Then, pow, it’s over. We never became economically viable and the politicians decided to stop subsidizing us. When they make their flowery promises the people have a grand vision of visiting distant stars or meeting alien beings or something. They’re excited about going into space. But the excitement and adventure turn into the day-to-day. The other planets and their moons are dead. Rocks aren’t exotic. The economics become more important than the mere achievement. So those of us who have given our lives get the “it was nice, but it’s time to move on,” speech.

“Do you think anyone will ever come back out here?” Mark asked him.

“I don’t know,” Skip thought about it. “We walked away from space once before. Back when the first international consortium was trying to make the first orbital station work. They were still flying rockets with liquid oxygen and every liftoff from Earth was a major effort, but a non-event. I’m not really sure why we tried again. But if we could stop and then start once, we could do that again. The human race seems to go through phases of conquest followed by times of ease. I guess I’d try to leave it in a condition that I’d be proud of in case anyone ever returns.”

Mark smiled. “Yes, we’ll do that, at least. Maybe nobody will return, but if they do, they should feel welcome.”

“Good,” Skip said. “I’m looking forward to the ceremony after lunch tomorrow. But right now, I think I want to catch a little arena soccer.

Skip had to admit that the play was pretty good. He watched the Panthers beat the Astronauts then went in to catch the last few minutes of the Bulls – Ions game. The Ions came out on top, setting the stage for the championship in the morning.

John came around and they found Mark and Lem. The two got settled and began their conversation. Mark and Skip went to find Dan and Mal and make sure everything was ready for the next morning.

The last three days had felt slow and restful. Skip knew it was about to get crazy. Now that the deadline was set the pre-launch stress would hit everone. When the miners moved to Valerio tomorrow afternoon the departure would be undeniably real, and all their worst behaviors would come out. All the difficult stowing of the little pieces that came last would take the cargo team to the edge. Skip reminded them all that their primary job would be to embody calmness. Every problem could be solved. Everything would be ready in time. No matter how upset or frustrated everyone got, the leadership would be rocks.

Then they got through the technical details of schedules the shuttle runs, shutting down of the various parts of the outpost, and transferring the last of the cargo.

Skip was happy about the state of things when they headed out to dinner. John came up and pulled him and Mark aside.

“Lem will go home,” he said. Mark practically collapsed against the wall. Skip hadn’t really understood until then how hard this situation had been for the commander.

“What did you talk about?” Skip asked.

“I want to keep it confidential,” Lem responded. “But you were right. The primary driver wasn’t Lem’s love for Titan and his desire to be here forever. Once he let out what was really on his mind we were able to talk through it. He’s ready to face all the possibilities that come with a return to Earth.”

“OK. Thanks, John. I don’t think even I know how much this means to Mark. I really appreciate what you’ve done.”

“You know I’m always happy to help out, Captain. In fact, maybe I’ll go back to school when we get to earth and become a practicing psychologist. The mind offers almost as unexplored territory as space does.” He gave a little grin.

“Let’s go eat,” was all Skip could say in response.


1,758 posted on 01/28/2013 5:17:43 PM PST by ArGee (Reality - what a concept.)
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To: ArGee

Skip and Mark were eating dinner when Lem came up and asked if he could join them for a few minutes. Skip nodded. Mark said, “Sure,” and gestured to an empty chair.

“I just wanted to apologize if my request put any stress on you guys,” Lem started. “I thought I should explain.”

“Stress is part of command,” Skip said. “Your apology wasn’t needed, but it’s certainly accepted.”

Mark agreed. “You shouldn’t feel like you have to tell us something you would rather not.”

“No, it’s OK. I really appreciate you having me talk with John. It could have been really bad up here after the novelty wore off. Mostly, I was afraid of going back to not having any friends again. Before signing up with the mines, I was kind of a loner. I’d never made friends during school. I didn’t even know how once I got out of school. So my life had become day after day of going to work, coming home, and playing video games until it was time to get some sleep and do it again.

“When I came to Titan there really wasn’t a way to be a loner, so I got to know some people here and I got to like it. When it came time to face returning to the old grind, I was just too afraid of going there again. John convinced me that I had taken the easy way because I could, but if I just push myself a little outside of my comfort zone, I should be able to make friends on Earth just like Titan.”

“I understand how you feel,” Skip said. “That same kind of loner life lead me to the Fleet. I maybe did a little bit better than you when I was at the Academy, but I’ve always struggled to be social. I think you were pretty lucky we had John here. It sounds like he helped you get to the bottom of your feelings pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, he did. I’m not sure how it’s going to go, but with over 8 billion people, John was pretty sure I could make some friends.” Lem gave a nervous little laugh.

Mark offered, “Can I give you a piece of advice?”

Lem shrugged. “Sure.”

“Be patient. People tend to revert to their old habits under stress. That wasn’t an option for you here, but you will be tempted to go back to your old life. Push through. I agree with John. You’ll make friends. Oh, and don’t be too hard on yourself if the first attempts don’t go well. When friendships don’t form it’s usually not someone’s fault. You just have to find the right people to be with.”

Lem nodded, “It makes sense. I might also be able to keep in touch with some of the miners here. Well, I’m going to get back to my table, now. But, thanks for taking the time to help me.”

Like the Captain said, it’s part of the job.” Mark shook the hand offered to him. I’m just glad it worked out so well.”

“See you around, Lem,” Skip offered as he, too, shook Lem’s hand.

As Lem walked back to his table Mark mused, “I think space did tend to draw a certain type of person. We’ve become pretty comfortable with each other over the years. I hope we can adjust to Earthbound society again.

Skip nodded. “I’ve been in command of a ship in space. It’s a unique environment. Only a few people have ever done this. Most of the Captains who left the Fleet retired and didn’t have to work. I often wonder what it will be like to have an ordinary job. Can I adjust to the normal dirtside problems? And can my wife stand having me back again? Life will be different, that’s for sure.”

“Different, but handling different is what we’re trained for. We should be able to handle the dirtside differences.”

“We’re trained for the unusual. But I don’t want to speculate too much. With every evac I’ve kept my mind focused on the most immediate problems. That’s how I’ve kept level. It’s particularly important now that my own future is as uncertain as the one the people of the outpost face. If I walk that path too long I might become one of the problems you have to solve.”

Mark grinned, “Don’t do that to me, Skip. You’ve already picked up burdens I had no idea how to carry.”

“I’ll try to stay sane all the way back,” Skip promised. “Do you have any briefing planned tonight about how things will go tomorrow?”

“No, I think we’re ready. I’ll let everyone prepare themselves for departure as they think best. I’m going to head over to the main shaft where we’ll be sealing off the mine, then it’s back to my quarters to pack my trip bag for tomorrow.”

“Mind if I come along for the sealing?”

“If you want. It’s not much. There’s no real ceremony. I’m not sure we really need to do this. I guess the company wants to be sure that if anyone ever does return they don’t fall into the mine accidentally.”

They walked quickly to the mine entrance where four miners were waiting for Mark to arrive. “Ready, Commander?” one asked.

“Let’s get this over with, Mr. Wong,” Mark answered.

Wong turned to a panel on the wall and pressed a key. “Exit 1 is secure.” He pressed another key. “Exit 2 is secure.” He pressed another key. “Uh, Commander? Exit 3 is showing yellow.”

Mark looked over his shoulder. “Yellow? Why would it show that? We’ve never had an emergency egress from the mine. Oh, well, I guess you better go check it out.”

Wong and one other miner jumped into the main shaft. Skip looked startled. “When we’re going quickly, we often just jump down. There are handholds along the way down. Experienced miners can catch them as they fall to keep the descent at an acceptable rate. It’s one of the few advantages of mining in such low gravity.”

Skip said, “I’ve read about the technique, of course. I just wasn’t expecting it. I’m not used to seeing people just jump off of cliffs like that.”

Mr. Wong’s voice came over the intercom. “Exit 3 has been used, Commander. It looks like it was shut from the outside. And there’s a suit missing.”

“A suit? Why would anyone in their right mind take a suit?”

“I assume you’re asking why someone would want to go outside, Sir, and why from the mine? I don’t know about going outside, but if someone did want to go, this is the way to go without being caught. Any of the normal exits to the surface are monitored.”

“Good thought, Wong. Someone wanted to sneak out and hasn’t returned yet. I guess we’d better figure out who it is. Wong, secure that exit. Then, just for thoroughness sake, check out the other exits. Then come back to the Command Center. I’m going to head there to initiate a search. Want to come along, Skip?”

“Sure. I may be able to help.”

As they walked to the Command Center, Mark muttered to himself. “Why can’t anything ever be easy? This should have been a quick, painless exercise followed by a leisurely evening packing my trip bag.” Skip decided it would be best to say nothing.

Once inside the Command Center, Mark called Mal over. “I need a manifest of who is on Valerio tonight, and who is sleeping down here. Then I need a detail to visit everyone who is sleeping here. Someone went out a mine exit and didn’t come back in the same way. I need to identify who it is. See to the search. Skip, if you can have someone on Valerio make sure everyone who is supposed to be there is there, I’ll get men stationed at all the guard posts and see if we can see anyone outside.”

“OK,” Skip replied.

Mark assembled a team of four men and went out. While she was waiting for the manifest, Mal explained what was happening. “The outpost has four guard posts at the four main corners of the facility, and one high tower in the center. When the outpost was built, they had no idea how often people would have to go outside. These guard posts were for monitoring their activity in case someone got in trouble. If there’s someone out there and they haven’t gone too far, they should be able to spot him or her.”

She handed a list to Skip and went to pull together her search team. Skip called up to Valerio and got Dan to locate everyone who was supposed to be staying up there and call back when he was done. Then it was just a matter of waiting. He didn’t have to wait long.

Mark called over the intercom. “Mal, if you’re there, get someone to the Alpha entrance. There’s someone there who needs to get inside.”

“Got it, Mark,” she replied. She started toward the door. Skip followed.

Skip had seen the loading dock and the shuttle landing dock, but he hadn’t seen any doors to the outside. Mal got to a door and opened the exterior port. There was a small window in the inner port, which let Skip see someone in a suit come through and stand. Mal closed the exterior port and flipped a switch. Lights came on in the lock between. Skip heard the Titan atmosphere evacuate, then the room fill with air. Then a mist washed over the person in the suit. While that was happening, Mark came up.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s fine,” Mal said. I’m just finishing the decontamination rinse. Then we can find out who it was.

The mist stopped and Mal opened the inner port. The figure stepped through and removed the helmet. “He” was a woman, who looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sorry, Commander, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I was going to come back in through the mine. I was really shocked when I found the door locked behind me.”

“Why did you go out, Peterson?”

“I had always wanted to go and walk on Titan’s surface. I suddenly realized I would never have another chance. I was afraid if I asked, I would start something. So I just tried to slip out and not be noticed.”

Mark sighed. “You added a little more excitement to the evening than I wanted. Under normal circumstances this would cost you some pay. But I don’t see any point in going through that tonight. I’ll hold it over you instead. If you’re not a model passenger on the trip back, you’ll lose a week’s salary.”

Peterson grinned. “Thank you, Sir,” she said.

“Get out of here and get ready for tomorrow.” Peterson headed out.

As Skip and Mark began their walk back to the main shaft Skip took a call from Dan that everyone on Valerio was where they were supposed to be. Skip thanked him. Mark said, “Peterson is probably the last person I would have expected to find out there.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s practically a saint. She gets a lot of ribbing for her insistence on doing things by the rules. They also call her ‘Preacher’ because she’s our resident theologian. She tried to organize Sunday morning services when she got here but couldn’t find the support. She asked not to be assigned any shift before noon on Sunday, and we accommodated her. I’m not sure what she does besides sleep in. If you’d asked me before you came out here who might cause me trouble, she’d never have crossed my mind.”

“Is that why you decided not to punish her?”

“Well, I didn’t see a point in spoiling a perfect record, but the real reason is that I didn’t want the paperwork. I thought she was unlikely to do anything else wrong, so there was no need for disciplinary action. It just wasn’t worth the hassle.”

“Probably a good call,” Skip observed.

With the excitement behind them, sealing the main shaft was a non-event. Wong reviewed the mine’s status a second time. This time everything was green. Mark gave the command and Wong keyed in a command. A door slid smoothly into place, and the mine shaft was sealed.

“OK, I’m off to pack,” Mark said to Skip.

“See you in the morning,” was the reply.


1,759 posted on 01/28/2013 5:25:27 PM PST by ArGee (Reality - what a concept.)
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To: no one in particular

Got this via email:

In the news this week, a Southern California man was put under 72-hour psychiatric observation when it was found he owned 100 guns and had (by rough estimate) 1 million rounds of ammunition stored in his home. The house also has a secret escape tunnel.

The television reporter said: “Wow! He has about a million machine gun bullets!” and the headline referred to it as a “massive weapons cache”.

By California standards someone owning even 100,000 rounds would be called “mentally unstable”.

If he lived elsewhere, such as Arizona, he’d be called “an avid gun collector”.

In Oklahoma, he’d be called “a novice gun collector”.

In Utah, he’d be called “moderately well prepared”, but they’d probably reserve judgment until they made sure that he had a corresponding quantity of stored food.

In Montana, he’d be called “the neighborhood ‘Go-To’ guy”.

In Idaho, he’d be called “a likely gubernatorial candidate”.

In Wyoming, he’d be called “an eligible bachelor”.

and . . . .
In Texas, he’d be called “a Hunting Buddy”.


1,760 posted on 01/28/2013 5:33:02 PM PST by null and void (Gun confiscation enables tyranny. Don't enable Tyranny)
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