"Repair One, this is Home. We've got reports of blindboys. Keep your eyes open. Over."
Stak looked across the green-yellow sky. Everything appeared normal. On Tellish, a normal day consisted of hard gusts and low visibility--the endearing results of a rapid planetary rotation and predominantly chlorine atmosphere. Still, he saw no signs of major storm activity, and certainly no signs of blindboys--tornadoes without visible funnels. One could rip apart a mile of land before anyone knew it was there.
He did see Avery's silhouette hunched over one of the malfunctioning bots. The black rubber bodysuit added to the darkness but occasional glints from the gold-plated air cylinders on Avery's back helped define his location. Looking for the glint was a habit all surface walkers learned early. It was considered bad form to lose sight of your partner--especially if he died.
Adjusting the volume in his helmet, Stak said, "Home this is Repair One. We copy. Avery's working on the bots now and I'm checking out the line for any damage. Over."
"Copy. Out."
Avery looked up from the bot. Stak raised three fingers and changed his comm-link to station three. He knew Home could listen to any comm-link transmission, but they did not often seek anything below station two-three-five. Atmospheric disturbances made such searches useless when the transmitting parties were more than a mile away.
"What's going on?" Avery asked.
"Home says we got tornadoes forming."
"They want us to go back in?"
"They want us to work faster--get the gold flowing again," Stak said, holding back a laugh. "Don't be surprised. You've had it easy since you got here. It's been unusually quiet. Normally, we get two maybe three tornadoes a week."
Avery stood and approached Stak. With only a few feet between them, they could light their helmets and see the other's face. "I'm not trying to be scared, but whatever's wrong with that bot can't be fixed out here. I've looked at everything I can without opening it up."
"That's normal. Most damage can't be fixed out here, but it's good to look anyway. A couple of times, I've gotten a bonus for getting the line running early."
"Not this time."
Stak grimaced. "Okay. Let's hook up the replacement and get this busted bot onto the rider."
"What's the matter? If I'm doing something wrong, please tell me."
For a moment, Stak stayed silent. The unwritten policy was not to tell a newcomer the full story until they had been on Tellish six months. Stupid policy, he thought.
"Listen," he said and his tone captured Avery's complete attention. "You better strive to get every bonus you possibly can. It's vital if you ever want to get off of here."
"I only signed a year contract."
"I know. So did I. At the end of the year, you'll get paid your salary. But they'll deduct rent, food, air, and any other living expenses. In the end, you'll be lucky to have a hundred. Do you know how much it costs to get off of here?"
Avery's mouth dropped. "I have to pay to leave?"
"Well, you don't pay for the pod shot up to the space station. That's written in your contract. What they neglect to tell you is that you have to spend three months in quarantine having every last microbe cleaned so you don't bring some oxygen hungry chlorinated germ with you. That costs around twelve hundred and is always rising."
"How long you been here?"
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