“Probably not,” Ensign Yosef agreed. “But it was impressive.”
“You have the Conn, Ensign. I’m going to have a little chat with that hot-shot about proper landing procedures.” Without waiting for a response, Cameron turned and headed out of the bridge.
The harvester rolled into the hangar bay, turning sharply to port before stopping. As it came to a complete stop, one of the ground crew ran underneath and opened up a control panel along the harvester’s undercarriage. After manipulating the controls, several locking mechanisms disengaged and the entire collection pod dropped smoothly off the bottom of the harvester and onto the deck. Moments later, two more workers were rolling the massive pod away to be unloaded. Meanwhile, others were connecting a refueling line that came from one of their nearby cargo shuttles.
Cameron came charging into the bay, marching up to Ensign Mendez, who was overseeing the security of the operation.
“Ensign Mendez,” she snapped. “I want to have a word with that pilot,” she ordered, pointing toward the cockpit of the harvester.
“Uh, yes, sir. But I think you’ll have to talk to their crew foreman, sir.” Mendez answered.
“And who would that be?”
“That would be me, lady.” The old man that had challenged Mendez back on Tobin’s shuttle stepped over from where he had been overseeing the manual off-load of the harvester’s collection pod.
“Commander,” Mendez started. “This is the foreman.”
“Marcus Wallace, at your service, ma’am.”
“Mister Wallace, I’d like a word with one of your pilots,” Cameron insisted in no uncertain terms.
“I’m assuming you mean Josh?”
“If he’s the reckless jerk flying that harvester, then yes.” Cameron looked over at the cockpit windows of the harvester. She could see the helmeted pilot as he checked his systems in preparation for departure. His face was obscured by the reflection on his faceplate, but he saw Cameron looking his way, and gave her a little mock salute. For a moment, she could’ve sworn she saw a smirk on his face.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, ma’am. You see, he’s in the middle of a hot refuel, so he can’t leave the cockpit. Besides, he’ll be taking off again shortly.”
“Well you tell that little hot-shot that he needs to call in for approach and follow the controller’s guidelines. Because the next time he comes in to my flight deck like a bat-out-of-hell, he’s going to find himself slamming headlong into the outer bay door. Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Marcus chuckled.
Ensign Mendez started to smile, then stopped when his eyes met his commander’s as she turned and charged out of the bay.
Marcus lowered his headset mic. “Joshua? I trust you copied all of that?”
“I gotta ask nicely next time?” Josh joked over the comm.
“If you don’t mind? And maybe you can ease up on the throttle as well?”
“Okay, but that’s gonna take all the fun out of it.”
“All right!” Marcus hollered. “Let’s get that pod unloaded, strapped back on, and get him the hell outta here! MOVE IT, PEOPLE!”
Workers scrambled to remove the last of the rubble from the collection pod before rolling it back under the harvester. With the touch of the controls, the pod raised up until it mated with the underside of the harvester, its latches grasping tightly and its wheels retracting up into her undersides. A warning klaxon sounded once from the harvester, and its motion warning lights began to flash, warning everyone on the deck that it was about to start moving. A few seconds later, the harvester backed up slightly, pivoted its nose aft, and started rolling out of the hangar bay and back into the transfer airlock.
“Volander, Harvester. Requesting permission for departure,” Josh’s voice crackled over the comms.
Marcus smiled. “Good boy.”
As they got farther away from the city, the farms became more spread out, with greater amounts of undeveloped space between them. Eventually, they turned off on a small side road that led into a canyon of sorts. It was about a hundred meters long and forty meters across, and it looked like a large trench.
“What is this place?” Nathan asked.
“Home,” Tug laughed.
“No, I mean how did it get this way?”
“As best I can tell, it’s a large sinkhole.”
“You’re kidding?”
“There are quite a few of them scattered all over this moon,” Tug told him. “Most people think it has something to do with the way this moon was reformed. In order to thicken the atmosphere, they pulled a lot of moisture out of subsurface aquifers, many of which were originally frozen. A few people have even put a roof over the smaller ones and created their own little habitats inside. But mine is a bit large for that.”
They drove down into the sinkhole along a road cut into one side. There were long greenhouses built along each side, with small storage buildings in between each one. As they made their way through the middle of the compound, they could see stacks of molo, all cut and bailed, ready to be sold at market.
“Is that all molo?” Nathan asked.
“Yes. Fate smiled on us both this day. This was all due to be delivered to another buyer. But they backed out at the last moment. Had you not come along, I would’ve had to prep and dehydrate all of this in order to preserve it. To avoid all of that extra work, I am willing to give you an excellent deal on this batch.”
“Where did you grow all of this?”
“Here, before the harvest, the molo covered the ground from wall to wall. The bottom of this sinkhole has a higher moisture content than the ground above. The molo grows denser and more quickly here than in most places.”
“How long does it take to grow?”
“Only a few weeks.”
“Damn,” Jessica exclaimed. “It’s a fungus factory.”
The vehicle pulled to the far end of the sinkhole, coming to a stop in front of a large building situated in the middle of the back wall. The building, which Nathan assumed was the main residence, was connected to another building directly behind it, which in turn was connected via tunnels on either side to the rows of greenhouses wrapping around the compound. From the looks of the layout, Nathan figured the residents could probably go the entire dark season without ever going outside.
“This is it,” Tug announced as the vehicle stopped.
As they climbed down off the vehicle, a young girl and a woman several years younger than Tug came out of the main house to greet them. The woman looked wary of the strangers, the young girl only curious. The woman squinted, trying to see the faces of the strangers that had come home with her husband.
“It’s okay, Ranni. These people have come to buy our molo.”
Jessica’s hand immediately moved inside her cloak to grab her sidearm, as light reflected off something along side of the woman.
Nathan noticed Jessica’s reaction. “What is it?” he whispered.
“She’s armed.”
“Wait,” Nathan warned. “Maybe she’s just being cautious.”
Nathan watched as Tug approached his wife, followed by Jalea. After a few steps, both of them came out of the amber glare of the low afternoon sun and into the cleaner illumination cast by the house lights, making her better able to see their faces. The woman suddenly began to relax, laying a large energy weapon against the wall behind her as her daughter left her side and ran to her approaching father. Jessica’s hand eased off her hidden sidearm, withdrawing her empty hand from her cloak.
“Papa!” the girl squealed as she jumped into his outstretched arms. He scooped her up and hugged her, kissing her cheek repeatedly. “What did you bring me, Papa?”
He set her back down and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of candy. “Your favorite,” he said, handing her the candy.
“Thank you, Papa,” the little girl said as she took the candy.
“Now go back inside, sweetie. Papa still has work to do.” Tug turned back to Nathan and the others. “If you would like to inspect the molo, to determine if it is to your liking, I will rejoin you shortly.” Tug bowed slightly as he turned to follow his wife inside.