Dark Benediction

“Wha-a-at?”

“That’s what I call it. A demolition man—Hardin, it was—had a blowout. With only one man standing by on the rescue gear.”

“Meteor dust?”

“Yeah.”

“Would it have made any difference if Safety and Rescue had been on the job?”

Suds glowered. “Maybe, maybe not. An inspector might have spotted the bulge in his suit before it blew.” He shook an angry finger toward the abandoned Safety & Rescue vehicles. “Those men are going to stand trial for negligent homicide. It’s the principle, damn it!”

“Sure, Suds. I guess you’re right. I’ll be right back” Henderson, was sleeping in his pressure suit when Novotny climbed back into his own runabout. The cab was still a vacuum. He got the hatch closed, turned on the air pumps, then woke Henderson.

“Lije, you been with ,a woman?”

“Nnnnnngg-nnnng! I hope to tell!” He shot a quick glance toward the rocket as if to reassure himself as to its reality. “And man, was she a little—”

Joe shook him again. “Listen. Brodanovitch is in the next car. Bull mad. I’ll ask you again. You been with a woman?”

“Woman? You muss of lost yoah mine, Joe. Lass time I saw a woman was up at Atlanta.” He rolled his eyes up toward the Earth crescent in the heavens. “Sure been a long ole time. Atlanta… man!”

“That’s better.”

Lije jerked his head toward Brodanovitch’s jeep. “What’s ole wet blanket gonna do? Chase those gals out of here, I ‘spect?”

“I don’t know. That’s not what he’s frothing about, Lije. Hardin got killed while the S&R boys were shacking up over there. Suds doesn’t even know what’s in that ship. He acts like he’s got about a dozen troubles running loose at once, and he doesn’t know which way to grab.”

“He don’t even know? How we evah gonna keep him from findin’ out?” Lije shot another glance at the ship and jumped. “Uh-oh! Looka theah! Yonder they come. Clamberin’ down the ladies’ ladduh. Theah’s Joyce and Lander and Petzel—other one looks like Crump. Half the Safety team, Joe. Hoo-eee! They got that freshly bred look. You can evum tell it from heah. Uh-oh!”

Brodanovitch had climbed out of his runabout. Bellowing at his mic, he charged toward the ship. The S&R men took a few lopes toward their vehicles, saw Brodanovitch, and stopped. One man turned tail and bolted for the ladder again. Gesturing furiously, the engineer bore down on them.

“Leave the radio off, Joe. Sure glad we don’ have to listen to that bull bellow.”

They sat watching the safety men, who managed some-how to look stark naked despite their bulgey pressure suits. Suds stalked toward them like an amok runner, beating a gloved fist into his palm and working his jaw at them.

“Suds don’ know how to get along with men when he want to get along with ‘em, and he don’ know how to fuss at ‘em when he don’t want to get along. Man, look how he rave!”

“Yeah. Suds is a smart engineer, but he’s a rotten over-seer.”

The ship’s airlock opened again and another man started out. He stopped with one foot on the top rung of the ladder. He looked down at Brodanovitch and the S&R men. He pulled his leg back inside and closed the hatch. Novotny chuckled.

“That was Relke, the damn fool.”

Lije smote his forehead. “Look at Suds! They tole him! They went an tole him, Joe. We’ll nevah get back in that ship now.”

The pusher watched the four figures on the plain. They were just standing there. Brodanovitch had stopped gesticulating. For a few seconds he seemed frozen. His head turned slowly as he looked up at the rocket. He took three steps toward it, then stopped.

“He gonna have apoplexy, thass what he gonna have.” Brodanovitch turned slowly. He gave the S&R men a blank look, then broke into a run toward his tractor. “I’d better climb out,” Joe said.

He met the engineer beside the command runabout. Suds’s face was a livid mask behind the faceplate. “Get in,” he snapped at the pusher.

As soon as they were inside, he barked, “Drive us to Crater City.”

“Slow down, Suds.”

“Joe. That ship. Damn brothel. Out to fleece the camp.”

“So what’re you going to do in Crater City?”

“Tell Parkeson, what else?”

“And what’s the camp going to be doing while you’re gone?”

That one made him pause. Finally he shook his head. “Drive, Joe.”

Novotny flipped the switch and glanced at the gauges. “You haven’t got enough oxygen in this bug to last out the trip.”

“Then we’ll get another one.”

“Better take a minute to think it over, Suds. You’re all revved up. What the hell can Parkeson do?”

“What can he do? What can—migawd, Joe!” Suds choked.

“Well?”

“He can get that ship out of here, he can have those women interned.”

“How? Suppose they refuse to budge. Who appointed Parkeson king of creation? Hell, he’s only our boss, Suds. The moon’s open to any nation that wants to send a ship, or to any corporation that can get a clearance. The W.P. decided that a long time ago.”

“But it’s illegal—those women, I mean!”

“How do you know? Maybe their racket’s legal in Algiers. That’s where you told me they had clearance from, didn’t you? And if you’re thinking about the Schneider-Volkov Act, it just applies to the Integrated Projects, not wildcat teams.”

Brodanovitch sat silent for a few moments, his throat working. He passed a shaky hand over his eyes. “Joe, we’ve got to keep discipline. Why can’t I ever make the men understand that? On a moon project, it’s discipline or die. You know that, Joe.”

“Sure I know it. You know it. Parkeson knows it. The First Minister of the Space Ministry knows it. But the men don’t know it, and they never will. They don’t know what the word ‘discipline’ means, and it’s no good trying to tell them. It’s an overseer’s word. It means your outfit’s working for you like your own arms and legs. One brain and one body. When it cracks, you’ve just got a loose handful of stray men. No coordination. You can see it, but they can’t see it. ‘Discipline’ is just a dirty word in the ranks, Suds.”

“Joe, what’ll I do?”

“It’s your baby, not mine. Give it first aid. Then talk to Parkeson later, if you want to.”

Suds sat silent for half a minute, then: “Drive back to the main wagon.”

Novotny started the motors. “What are you going to do?”

“Announce Code Red, place the ship off limits, put an armed guard on it, and hope the Crater City crew gets that telephone circuit patched up quick. That’s all I can do.”

“Then let me get a safe distance away from you before you do it.”

“You think it’ll cause trouble?”

“Good Lord, Suds, use your head. You’ve got a campful of men who haven’t been close to a dame in months and years, even to talk to. They’re sick, they’re scared, they’re fed-up, they want to go home. The Party’s got them bitter, agitated. I’d hate to be the guy who puts those women off limits.”

“What would you do?”

“I’d put the screws on the shift that’s on duty. I’d work hell out of the crews that are supposed to be on the job. I’d make a horrible -example out of the first man to goof off. But first I’d tell the off-duty team-pushers they can take their crews over to that ship, one crew at a time, and in an orderly manner.”

“What? And be an accomplice? Hell, no!”

“Then do it your own way. Don’t ask me.”