Page 9 of Escape from Nova Nine
Julke caught Lantham’s eye and tilted her head toward the temporary airlock.Are the guards there?she signed.
Yes, but different ones, he replied. He made the signs for two guards who usually worked in the prison block area.They don’t know the equipment. And Dajoya’s second shot flatlined the scanner.
Julke stood, testing her balance. The usual aching in her joints and ringing in her ears would soon pass. She wondered how many more stunner hits she could take before they did irreversible damage.
Sutrio and Lantham climbed to their feet. After a moment, Lunaso did, too. He got up gracefully — not easy in an exosuit — and his expression seemed alert and watchful. If he was hurting, he hid it well.
According to the clock display in her helmet, it was only twenty minutes to shift end.
Julke spoke out loud. “Are we on schedule or on overtime?”
“On schedule,” said Lantham.
Thank the universe for small favors. They could have been forced to work extra hours immediately to make their daily quota.
She nodded. “That’s enough time to show Lunaso what he needs to know.”
They each took turns demonstrating the equipment, starting with the cutter and ending with the hopper.
Sutrio caught Julke’s eye and pointed to the jig’s tool box, then to the front seam of her own exosuit and made the sign for griffin.
Julke hesitated, not wanting to get her friend in trouble, but gave in and accepted the offered help. Sutrio’s animal affinity talent made it much easier for her to keep the little injured creature quiet while she smuggled it back into the habitation area.
Drawing Lunaso toward the enviro unit, she told him to call her Julke so he wouldn’t mangle her family name, then gave him a detailed briefing on the humidifier, oximeter, and dust particulate counter. She also pointed out the air quality meter that had been added to his exosuit’s upper left arm and identified the separate displays for external and internal readings. The suit’s heads-up display in their helmets, she told him, only showed the date and time, internal supplies levels, and whether or not the suit was sealed.
Because she was watching, she noticed that he noticed Sutrio was doing something at the jig. She also noticed he didn’t ask. Grudgingly, and despite her initial instincts, she had to respect a man who knew how to keep his eyes and ears open and his mouth shut.
* * *
The guards opened the mine-side airlock and motioned Julke’s workgroup and one other inside the decontamination transition zone. They’d had to wait while Julke handed over the scanner for repair, so they were the last group through for the shift change. The long, rectangular chamber could hold twenty in a pinch, but doing so created traffic jams. She motioned for Lunaso to hold on to one of the holdfasts, then pointed to a wall display showing a countdown.
“Air blasters run for one minute when that hits zero. The timer resets twice more, once for a thirty-second chem spray, once for water jets.” She pointed to the air nozzles. “Keep your helmet away from these if you ever want to see through it again.”
It has been too long since she’d had to train a new prisoner. “Hey, Lantham, what am I forgetting?”
“Suit scrub.” Lantham pointed to Zade’s hips. “After the chem spray, open your waste pockets so the pressurized water cleans them out. Otherwise, you’ll have to do it by hand when you pull your pads.”
Sutrio tilted her chin toward the airlock at the far end of the exit zone. “Suits come off in the locker room. Did they give you clothes?”
“Yes.” Lunaso watched Lantham, then mimicked the man’s feet-apart, bent-knee stance.
The display turned bright blue.
Julke braced herself. “Here it comes.”
The decontamination procedure was like being in a live-experience simulation of a multi-scenario disaster. Dust rose into a maelstrom, then got sucked down through the grate beneath their gravity boots. Orange chem spray coated everything and dripped slowly. The second the flood waters came, she opened her suit’s pockets and angled them toward the outlets. Most Nova Nine equipment was antique, but thank the gods of Chaos, the mine’s sophisticated environmental systems were new and state-of-the-art. They’d recapture all the air, water, dust, and waste, then filter and recycle it.
She belatedly glanced at Zade to check that he was okay, but he seemed to have figured it out.
When the water stopped, the wider, heavier airlock at the other end of the tunnel irised open, revealing the habitation side’s cavernous locker room. A hundred or more stationary hooks hung from the ceiling, about half holding clothes or exosuits. The mine had been steadily losing workers. Lunaso was the first noob mine worker they’d had in a quarter-year. Were there more?
She unsealed her helmet as she helped him find the numbered hook where he’d left his clothes. She stayed long enough to make sure he knew how to get out of an exosuit. The fact that he triggered all the releases and opened his helmet before pulling off his gloves made her think he’d logged a lot of hours in a suit.
“The orientation vid said I’m supposed to give my suit to a guard for inspection and recharge.” His voice sounded as tired as he looked.
She shook her head. “Not enough staff to do that.” She pointed to the hook with his clothes. “Pull the pads and just hang it. The guards will scan them later and bring them to the cells after dinner. Pads go in the blue bins along the walls for recycling. We’ll get fresh pads, water, and an oxy charge in the morning before the shift starts.” Pointing to the door to the hallway, she added, “Meet me there when you’re dressed.”
Weaving her way through a forest of clothes and ducking the people getting into them, she found her own clothes and changed quickly. Her exosuit had more patches than original material, but the internal systems were good. Still, she was glad to be out of it for a while. The constant pressure to precisely choose every single word she said made her shoulders tight as a drum.
