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Authors: Tom Parkinson
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you.”
Athena
brightened “Really? Is that safe?” The probes were hopeless at carrying
material, they could only manage two kilos and even that was a strain on their
tiny A/Gs
“Safe-ish.
Strictly only for in times of emergency. But it can be done. Each package gets
its own unit, you tie them all together, get one end of the rope onto the back
of the canoe and off you go. Easy to get going, easy in flight, an absolute pig
when it comes to stopping. And totally not to be attempted in any kind of wind.
But it would be one way we could get a decent service going again.”
“Lana,
would the first trip be out to where Grad is? Because he’s back in a couple of
days anyway.”
“Well,
it would take that long to make the canoe anyway. The thing is, what if
something goes wrong with the plans to make a new shuttle? Hopefully nothing
will but if there were a delay they would be stranded out there even longer.
This way they would definitely get some sort of help on Friday whatever
happens. And after all, it’s not like I’m doing anything in the meantime. I
haven’t got a shuttle anymore.”
Athena
thought for a moment, looking as she did so at the pilot’s hopeful face. She
looked so young, so bright and eager. Athena remembered a few hours before when
Lana had looked so haggard and careworn, and she couldn’t help the grin which
pulled at the corners of her lips.
“O.K.
Lana, get two A/G’s out of stores and whatever else you need. If you have
to scrounge around for materials you can do so in my name, if anyone challenges
you. But the mining effort and the new shuttle take precedence. All right?”
Lana
could barely contain her eagerness to get away and begin. “Thanks Athena, you
won’t regret it.”
<><><>
Gerard
Pitot was getting really pissed off, and he wasn’t the only one. They had all
signed up for this in good faith. Most had paid good money to show they were
serious, and they had put themselves into the hands of the colony agency on the
understanding that they would be going to a life which if not better in terms
of material comforts, would at least better suit the pioneering aspects of
their personalities. He wasn’t afraid of hardship, that wasn’t the problem.
What was getting his blood up was the way things were being handled, or rather,
mishandled. It was about time they were told what steps were being taken.
Since
the loss of the quarry the supply of sheet metal had dried up, and his house
was only part built. At least he had the roof on which was more than some
people. But now he was left with nothing to do, like all the other townspeople.
Nothing to do but wait, and that wasn’t pioneering.
Unlike
all the people milling around on the town’s green, though, Gerard had read
every page of his colony charter. Clause 52 was an interesting one, and he had
looked at it very carefully before he had set his signature down. In effect it
was a fail-safe clause in case the administration proved incompetent for any
reason or, in the deliberately vague wording of the document, “…unable to rise
to the challenges of the programme…”. Gerard had a strong feeling that it was
nearly time to invoke Clause 52, but he knew that he would require substantial
backing for such a step. He decided to wander down into the crowd and see if he
could gauge the swell of opinion in Heart Lake. The early afternoon air was
still and heavy with moisture. It carried the low murmur of voices clearly to
him. He passed a quartet of farmbots which were improving the main thoroughfare
of the town. In the past few days since they had been set up they had cleared a
hundred acres of stones from the surrounding fields, working tirelessly night
and day. Now they were using the piles of graded stones to form the base of a
road. The final part of the process would come when they lined up to cross and
recross the pebbly surface, coating it with carbon drawn straight from the
atmosphere which they would lay down in
Athena
brightened “Really? Is that safe?” The probes were hopeless at carrying
material, they could only manage two kilos and even that was a strain on their
tiny A/Gs
“Safe-ish.
Strictly only for in times of emergency. But it can be done. Each package gets
its own unit, you tie them all together, get one end of the rope onto the back
of the canoe and off you go. Easy to get going, easy in flight, an absolute pig
when it comes to stopping. And totally not to be attempted in any kind of wind.
But it would be one way we could get a decent service going again.”
“Lana,
would the first trip be out to where Grad is? Because he’s back in a couple of
days anyway.”
“Well,
it would take that long to make the canoe anyway. The thing is, what if
something goes wrong with the plans to make a new shuttle? Hopefully nothing
will but if there were a delay they would be stranded out there even longer.
This way they would definitely get some sort of help on Friday whatever
happens. And after all, it’s not like I’m doing anything in the meantime. I
haven’t got a shuttle anymore.”
Athena
thought for a moment, looking as she did so at the pilot’s hopeful face. She
looked so young, so bright and eager. Athena remembered a few hours before when
Lana had looked so haggard and careworn, and she couldn’t help the grin which
pulled at the corners of her lips.
“O.K.
Lana, get two A/G’s out of stores and whatever else you need. If you have
to scrounge around for materials you can do so in my name, if anyone challenges
you. But the mining effort and the new shuttle take precedence. All right?”
Lana
could barely contain her eagerness to get away and begin. “Thanks Athena, you
won’t regret it.”
<><><>
Gerard
Pitot was getting really pissed off, and he wasn’t the only one. They had all
signed up for this in good faith. Most had paid good money to show they were
serious, and they had put themselves into the hands of the colony agency on the
understanding that they would be going to a life which if not better in terms
of material comforts, would at least better suit the pioneering aspects of
their personalities. He wasn’t afraid of hardship, that wasn’t the problem.
What was getting his blood up was the way things were being handled, or rather,
mishandled. It was about time they were told what steps were being taken.
Since
the loss of the quarry the supply of sheet metal had dried up, and his house
was only part built. At least he had the roof on which was more than some
people. But now he was left with nothing to do, like all the other townspeople.
Nothing to do but wait, and that wasn’t pioneering.
Unlike
all the people milling around on the town’s green, though, Gerard had read
every page of his colony charter. Clause 52 was an interesting one, and he had
looked at it very carefully before he had set his signature down. In effect it
was a fail-safe clause in case the administration proved incompetent for any
reason or, in the deliberately vague wording of the document, “…unable to rise
to the challenges of the programme…”. Gerard had a strong feeling that it was
nearly time to invoke Clause 52, but he knew that he would require substantial
backing for such a step. He decided to wander down into the crowd and see if he
could gauge the swell of opinion in Heart Lake. The early afternoon air was
still and heavy with moisture. It carried the low murmur of voices clearly to
him. He passed a quartet of farmbots which were improving the main thoroughfare
of the town. In the past few days since they had been set up they had cleared a
hundred acres of stones from the surrounding fields, working tirelessly night
and day. Now they were using the piles of graded stones to form the base of a
road. The final part of the process would come when they lined up to cross and
recross the pebbly surface, coating it with carbon drawn straight from the
atmosphere which they would lay down in
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