The bridge was silent as they sat, watched and waited.

Again Capt. Russell was wreathed in smoke. After about 15 minutes he emptied out the remainder of the pipe load and started refilling. He lit up a second pipe, got comfortable, and then: 'Mr.

Grant. Return the ship to a position about 500 miles directly above Copernicus. The screens are to remain up. Mr. Webb, the men may return to their normal duties. Have coffee sent up. We will wait here.'

After an hour the Captain put in a call to Mayor Love. I'm standing by. Have you any further need for our services?'

'No,' the Mayor answered. 'We seem to have weathered the storm. We're still intact and can clean up the mess ourselves. Thank you for a job well done.'

The Captain smiled. 'Thank you. I hope the next time we have a little more notice so we can do a better job. Out.'

The plate cleared. The Captain drew deeply on his pipe.

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'Mr. Webb. Return the ship to Callisto.'

CHAPTER EIGHT.

MOON PROSPECTOR.

'Storm!' the moon creeper said.

Pete Miller was buzzing along at five miles per hour, his tracked moon creeper following the low cliff wall on his right, through the Carpathians. He was on his way to Copernicus where he planned to refuel for another prospecting trip. Behind the creeper two trailers followed, one containing reserve supplies, and the other automatic mapping and prospecting equipment such as magnetometers, radar topological plotters, laser-spectroscope samplers, et cetera. The creva.s.se detector on the boom in front of him had not stopped the creeper for over half an hour.

Pete was an old-timer. He had been a boy when Gillespie diverted a couple of megabucks of public funds to buy a Surplus rocket and outfit it to go to Mars. His reverie was broken by the voice of the moon creeper.

'Copernicus reports a large meteor fell in the plain about one hundred miles west of them. They advise all vehicles to head for cover,' it said.

'This cliff might have enough height to protect us,' Pete said.

'My profile mapper indicates that that spot is the best place along the cliff,' the creeper said.

Simultaneously a marker of bright light appeared on the cliff face about five hundred yards ahead and the creeper turned toward it. As they crossed the pa.s.s to the point of relative safety, both the prospector and the moon creeper were silent. They were waiting for the secondary meteorites thrown up by the first meteor to begin to fall. Having a range of fairylike mountains between them and the meteor had protected them from immediate showers, but eventually the stuff with a ballistic trajectory high enough to clear the range between them would begin to come down. When it did, it would come down hard!

Three minutes later the creeper and its carriers were pulled up under the protecting wall of the cliff in a compact little group.

'That isn't much of an overhang,' Pete said.

'No, but it is the best within twenty minutes travel,' the moon creeper answered. 'Also the profile of the ridge above the cliff protected us about a minute extra before the first of the shower hit us.'

Even as the creeper spoke a number of small puffy clouds appeared in the pa.s.s. They rose from the surface and then seemed to evaporate. The edge of the clouds crept closer with each pa.s.sing moment. Occasionally the ground shook.

'Copernicus reports that all four western entrances are blocked!' the creeper reported.

Pete looked at the cloud and said, 'That must have been a h.e.l.l of a big one! How could the entrances be blocked? They have a fifty-foot overhang of twelve-inch reinforced concrete!'

'They were apparently directly downstream of the storm. They've had slides, and lots of stuff skipping in. Entrances Number 2 and 3 even have the air4ock door destroyed.'

'How long to dig out?'

'Three or four days if they have to dig out from the inside, four hours from the outside. They're checking prospectors for digging tools ... No luck. They're going to send a digging party out the north pa.s.s and around. They give the storm another fifteen minutes,' the creeper reported.

'Are the emergency cashes intact?'

'Yes, so far. But they may not be accessible.'

The storm had reached its peak intensity and was now visibly dying. The nearest portion was still one hundred feet distant, but small bits of splashed material made little splattering noises as they hit the sides of the moon creeper. Fortunately there was only sand in the area.

Pete was getting nervous, as he usually did during a storm. He started to get up, thought better of it, and then deliberately relaxed. 'I've been in tighter situations than this,' he told himself. Somehow that seemed rather unimportant. After an age be glanced at the clock. Ten more minutes. Impatiently he said, 'Well, while we're sitting here, let's transfer supplies.'

Transferring supplies was still a manual job. The automatic loading equipment needed was too big and expensive for a small operation like this.

It took Pete all of two minutes to get into the light-armored vacuum suit and to check it out.

Another two minutes was spent pumping the cabin air into the recycle tanks. Another minute and Pete was crawling along the creeper's treads, next to the wall of the cliff, toward the creeper's tender. A jump and he was on the tender's treads. He undogged a port in the side of the tender, swung the eight-inch thick door back, and plugged in the hoses that trailed behind him to the moon creeper; Reaching past the hose connections, Pete pulled out a suitcase of frozen food.

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'I hope they packed something in this one besides peanut b.u.t.ter sandwiches,' he said. His cynicism was lost on the moon creeper. Pete returned. The hoses would automatically decouple and follow him when the refueling was complete.

Back inside the creeper things were quiet as usual. 'So much for that month's work,' Pete said as he shoved the frost-covered suitcase into its storage place. The moon creeper didn't comment. A few minutes later they started moving.

'I gather our present plans are to continue back to Copernicus and help dig out one of the west entrances?'

'No, the work crew can handle that. Copernicus Control has directed us to delay and continue our current prospecting program until we're called back,' the moon creeper answered.

Pete sighed. He was antic.i.p.ating a week end in Copernicus. Now there is some question whether Harvey Reinfield got under cover in time,' the moon creeper continued. 'He was about one hundred miles northwest of here, at Mayer A. No one can raise his creeper.'

'Harv?'

'The satellite will check him in about three minutes.'

'd.a.m.n! Tap their picture when they get it. I want to see it,' Pete said.

'We are the closest party to him in this area, so we will probably be asked to investigate,' the moon creeper said.

Pete leaned over the control console waiting for the new satellite picture. 'Harv's probably just got communications trouble. Is his tender's emergency transmitter going?'

'No.'

'So either both he and his tender got caught in something together, or he's O.K.'

A few minutes later the strip map was replaced by a television picture from the satellite. Rapidly the camera found the trail leading into Mayer A, and then followed a particular pair of tracks.

They ended in a pile of rubble at the inside face of the crater cliff. The tender and another carrier were a couple hundred feet away. Pete snorted.

'Can the satellite pick up Harv's interphone?'

'Yes, Copernicus Control is trying to break in.'

'Break in?' Pete asked.

In answer to Pete's question the moon creeper switched in the radio system direct. A string of profanity was being transmitted. Pete was surprised, and then he smiled as he recognized Harv's voice, and settled down to wait for it to stop. He noted several new words and made a mental note to ask Harv about them later.

A couple of minutes later there was a temporary lull and Copernicus Control was so ill advised as to ask what happened. After detailing the controller's incestuous ancestory, the answer came.

'.... What do you think happened? I got caught in this ... slide!'

'I noticed something of the sort. Are you in trouble?' asked Copernicus Control innocently.

There was a long silence as Harv a.s.similated the implications of the question. He finally said, 'I'd like to tell you to take a running jump, but it happens that I'm in trouble and I do need help.' There was a long pause during which Copernicus Control kept silent. 'I was spiraling out of Mayer A when I saw a flash reflected from the north wall. I stopped figuring that the rim would give me some protection. A couple of minutes later the slide started. I tried to get out of its way, but didn't make it. It took off my antennas, treads, and my shield. I'm now lying on my side, completely buried. I have three weeks' food and air, with no apparent leaks,' Harv reported.

'Pete Miller has been listening in,' Copernicus Control said. 'What equipment will you need to dig the biggest mouth on the moon out of his rockpile, Pete?'

'What?' Harv said.

'Relax, Harv,' Pete said. 'We'll all do our best to extricate you from this trouble your stupid lack of judgement got you into.

'What do you mean big-mouth and stupid?' shouted Harv.

'It looks like I'm going to need a full range of digging equipment,' Pete continued, ignoring Harvey, 'starting with blasters, and working down to needle samplers. Some jacks, a portable spy- ray, be sure to include a shadow magnetometer, blast shields, a small tractor beam, something to haul the creeper back on, since it's too expensive to abandon ...

'Hm-m-m !' said Harv.

'Some sheets of plastic and adhesive, a couple of twenty- or thirty-foot steel wrecking bars, cable, a couple small winches, -a dozen explosive anchors, a portable creva.s.se bridge. Make that two bridges,' Pete said. 'Any idea how deep you are, Harv?'

'Nothing but rock in sight,' Harv answered.

'Have I forgotten anything?' Pete asked.

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'Yeah,' Harv answered. 'A flask of brandy for the poor victim!'

'I'll send the stuff around after our digging party. I think they've already left. Where do you want to pick it up?' asked Copernicus Control.

'If it takes only four hours to dig out the first entrance, it'll be just about as fast to send it out that way. That'll also give me time to get out to Mayer A and survey the situation. Then I can ask for anything else I may need. I can also check the trail from Mayer L on out for any new chasms or slides, which means that the man bringing the stuff out will be able to travel most of the trail at high speed. I'll need about twenty-four hours plus to get out to Harv, and the first entrance should be open at about the same time.'

'We figure twenty-eight hours from now, plus or minus an hour,' Copernicus Control said.

'It'll take about twenty-two to twenty-four hours after the entrance is open for him to get to Mayer A. By the way, Harv,' Pete asked puzzled by a sudden thought, 'what were you doing out at Mayer A? It's already been surveyed a couple of times.

'Can't tell you, Pete. Ask the Mayor,' answered Harv.

'I've got other work to do. Will check back later. Bye,' Copernicus Control broke in and cut off Pete and Harv.

'What the h.e.l.l goes on here?' Pete said. He sat in front of the television screen where the moon creeper again displayed a strip map of the area. This was a surprise! Someone, maybe the Mayor of Copernicus, had some reason for getting Harv out to Mayer A in such a hurry that no one had bothered to provide him with a cover story. Actually, a moment's reflection told Pete, there would normally be no reason for a cover story. No one except Harv, the Mayor, and Copernicus Control need know anything about the trip. It was only because of the meteorite storm and the accident that anyone else knows even now, Pete thought. At this point they can't say much over the radio, but they can send someone special out with the digging equipment. They will probably suggest a story to Harv. They would not have to say much. Harv was mighty fast on the uptake, and could spin out a yarn with the best of them. Except Harv wasn't anything else or anyone else than Harvey Reinfield. Oh well, Pete shrugged to himself, it will all come out. That a secret exists is half the secret.

The moon creeper was already on the road. They had started out when the storm quit.

'Tune me in on any conversation between Copernicus, the Control, or anyone, and Harv,' Pete ordered. 'I want to listen in, not a synopsis.'

It was a tired Mayor who turned off his visiphone. The western entrances had not been covered by the Rodebush Bergenholm field, and, in spite of the overhanging roofs of reinforced concrete, every one of them had been blocked by the storm of secondaries from the meteor. The Southernmost entrance had been completely demolished by a single, gigantic boulder that had smashed the roof, airlock, tunnel entrance, and no one knew how many feet of tunnel into a pile of rubble. One of the new blaster battery sites, just over the rim, had been severely damaged. Most of the Earthside Communications' antennas had been knocked down. That was no great concern, since 'they were horizontal arrays a few feet above ground level. Quake damage inside the city had occurred. Rog Philips' crews were at work on that. No one had been killed, though many injuries were reported.

Property damage was relatively minor, though it probably didn't seem that way to those who had sustained it.

Considering what might have happened, Mayor Love decided that all in all it had been a very successful demonstration and test.

His thoughts were interrupted by a call from Larry McQueen.

'Hi Larry. Why no image?'

'I'm using my belt communicator,' Larry answered. 'I'm on my way to Uranium Inc. at Fauth. Thought I'd pa.s.s along some news before I got outside. When I left Copernicus Control they had a prospector named Harv Reinfield buried in a slide out at Mayer A. Is that the man working for us?'

'Yes.'

'OK. Have Security run a check on another prospector named Pete Miller. Pete's going Out to survey the situation and help Harv, if he can. He needs tools but can't get them until a west entrance is opened. The Port of Entry Division has organized a work party. They're going around through the North Pa.s.s. They should have the entrance clear in about a day.'

'Why don't they use a Moorpark tractor ship to open an entrance? It could pull off the roof, debris and all.'

'Dr. Kelvin won't release one until the slots are deep enough to suit him. That quake really got to him. He estimated that he lost almost a half million credits in damaged equipment at Moorpark, to say nothing about manpower. And I can see his point. That meteor was a hundred miles away. He's balancing the loss of Copernicus against the inconvenience of a prospector who's stuck, but can 3435

survive until he's dug out.'

'Hmm, I just let the Europa leave. They could have done both jobs,' Ron commented. He shrugged.

'I'll let things proceed as they are.'