"Badger Ten... Badger Ten, come in." The comlink crackled in my ear. Reaching up with one hand I slapped the side of the speaker. The static disappeared as the message repeated.

"Yeah, I hear you." I nudged the switch with my chin. "Look, I'm almost done out here and you'll have your quota for the week, so..."

"Badger Ten, we're redirecting you to another operation." The small screen to my left burped a stream of programming commands. "Just follow the blue dots and you'll be there within ten minutes."

"What the..." We lose privileges for swearing, so instead I just gave a generic finger to everyone and everything inside and outside my machine. "I better get credit for this work, or..."

The static returned as I turned around, the thick metal treads digging into the lunar dust. "It's a rescue mission, Badger Ten. Shut the hell up and get it in gear."

When they offered me the spot I told them to stick it where the sun don't shine; most of the boys did. Who in their right mind is going to give up their legs for the chance to get slapped into a steel coffin to work mining details?

Lifers, that's who. You spend enough time staring at the four walls of your cell and eventually you'll trade anything to get a breath of fresh air. Figuratively, of course. Sure, you have to let them hack off your legs to get you fitted for the digger, but where the hell are you going to run to on the moon?

I could see the rescue sliders whipping back and forth in the distance, kicking up enough dust to choke anything that could live without air. The automated system kept me rolling along, the engine kicking up to trundle me the last half-mile at a decent speed.

"Good to see you, Digger." Obviously no one had told the leader of this crew that I was a con. He waved a gloved hand at me where he stood atop the crest of a small crater. "Going to need you to do some work. Command said you were closest, so..."

Dragging the digger to the edge of the crater I looked down.

The tourist hummer had flipped over - the damned driver had probably tried to be cool and ride the edge for the photo op. Probably hit a loose patch of something and had rolled right down into a crevasse; wedging himself in good. The treads spun once, twice as I watched, trying to grab some sort of grip on the dust and stones that surrounded them.

"Tell them to stop trying!" The roar came over the radio from the crew chief, waving his hands over his head.

"Damned fools are going to fall down to the bottom and then some." I growled, forgetting my comms was open. The chief looked at me again then nodded, his helmet bobbing up and down like one of those toys I had back in my cell.

"Who's in there?" I asked as my digger crawled towards the imbedded vehicle, the fat metal feet now picking each step with caution.

"Driver's unconscious, head injury. Father and one son; old man's not talking. We think he's got internals from what the kid's saying, but we need to get them out fast." Waving off the other suits standing around the Chief pointed down into the crevasse. "Kid's the one who hit the gas pedal right now - seven years old and scared out of his wits." The line went dead for a second as he switched to another frequency, then it crackled live again. "What we need you to do is wedge yourself down there and brace up the vehicle so we can get straps under it and pull her free."

I looked at the space hummer. "You're nuts. As soon as I get down there it's going to break free and they'll end up halfway to the core." My lungs ached for a cigarette, even though I'd quit a decade earlier. "And if they get down there, ain't no one going to be pulling them out."

"Command says that if you start over there." He tapped his armcomp and another set of numbers belched out from my screen. "You can dig a tunnel at an angle and come out right under them. They say there's a good chance; better than if we start lugging in equipment and put more weight on the edge."

My snort must have carried halfway to Earth. "Oh, right. And then who saves my butt?"

"We'll pull you out right after we get them." A weighted pause. "Look Badger Ten - I don't know you and I don't know what you did but this is the best chance we have of saving them and you're the only unit that can do it in time. They didn't sign up for the three day tour; they're going to run low on oxygen soon and then that kid is going to not only die but watch his father bleed out and probably suffocate slowly in the end." The static snapped back across my face. "I can't promise you anything but a helluva good feeling."

"Tell Command I want a pardon." I flinched as the digger turned towards the new coordinates. "Tell the bastards I want a pardon and a ticket off this rock if I get this done in time."

"Done."

"That was too fast." I reached down, feeling the meaty nub of my left leg. "You can't promise squat, Chief."

"I'll do what it takes to get those people out, Badger Ten." He was growing smaller in my rear camera as I rumbled along the ground. "And so will you. I hope."

"Oh, sure." I tapped the link at my chin again. "Can you patch me through to the kid? I'll need to know when I'm close - he'll feel the vibrations and I don't want to scare him into doing anything stupid."

"We'll switch you over in a few minutes. We're trying to get him to do some basic first aid on his dad and the pilot." The last few words faded out as I went out of range.

It wasn't a bad plan, but it sure as hell wasn't a good plan. In a good plan they'd have plenty of time to work out getting a crane in from the base and working bots down the sides of that crack. Problem was, they didn't have time. I glanced up and to my left, where hot air was being puffed into my cockpit from the recycler. It was expensive and sure as hell not good for more than twenty-four hours tops, but it beat carrying tanks like the tourists did.

Which was the problem - that skimmer sure didn't have the time for a decent rescue and this was the best the guys could come up with. Of course, I had no doubt that if push came to shove; they'd tip me into the pit to save the kid.

Hell, couldn't blame them if they did.

A black and white screen at where my knee would be began to run a sequence of commands, feeding the digger info on where to plant the backside and drop the drills. It wasn't a complicated program and it sure wasn't rocket science. So, you ask - why the heck have anyone running it? Why not let the bot brain take it out for a drive?

'Cause no one trusts machines that much. Especially with anything that could be used as a weapon. 'Nuff said.

We broke the surface easily; the three drills fastened to the front of my rig ripping through the dust easily and down into the solid moon rock. My rear camera showed a sliver of darkness; the last of the moon "sky" before it disappeared into the blackness of dirt and rubble.

Claustrophobia is a big problem with the pilots as well. Sure, you're trading one cell for another; but you better get used to the idea of sitting for a long time with nothing around you but the flickering lights of your comp system signalling how deep you are. And if the tunnel behind you caves in or your rig breaks down, well... I've heard tales of diggers taking their own lives with jagged edges of steel ripped out of their own panels to avoid dying of suffocation.

Which brought me back to thinking about the kid again.

Damn him.

Not that I really hated the punk, but tourists were always getting into trouble. Hell, last newsflash I had seen said something about insurance companies tripling their rates for any trips offbase just because there were too many accidents happening.

Suddenly the speaker scrambled English again, spitting at me.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The tinny voice sounded all of seven years old going on seventy. "Hello?"

I nudged the link, dropping my chin down. "Hey there, this is Badger Ten. How you doing?"

"Ah..." I heard something that might have been a sob, but the static was pretty high. "I'm scared. My dad's not waking up."

"Well, don't worry. We'll have you out of there soon enough." I twisted my head to one side to see the depth and the angle of the digger. "I should be coming out just under you in a few minutes. Let me know if you feel anything, okay?"

"Like what?"

"If that car starts shaking or moving, you yell for me, okay?" I put my hands on the steering wheel, feeling the vibrations through the cheap leather cover. "Tell the rescue team I should be coming out in about a minute."

"Okay." A long pause. "They said they'll be ready." Another small burst of white noise. "My name's David. What's yours?"

"I'm..." I blinked. It had been months since I had actually thought about my own name. "They call me Badger Ten."

"Well, that's not your real name."

"It's good enough." I swallowed, feeling a thickness in my throat.

"Are you a criminal? My dad says that there's a lot of criminals working out here."

"Sure. You think anyone sane would be out here?" My hand dragged across the screen, leaving a greasy smear over the cheap graphics.

"Oh." The speaker went silent. "I... I just felt something!"

"Calm down!" I snapped, grabbing the throttle. "Where's it coming from?"

"We're moving... to the left!" The hysterical voice hurt my ears.

"Which left, kid? Which left?" I pulled back, bringing the digger to a stop.

"Ah... my left if I'm sitting in the driver's seat. Does that help?" He sounded a lot calmer. Good.

"Okay." I flicked a handful of switches. "Get on the horn and ask your pal topside what to do. I don't want to keep on tunnelling if I'm going to have you fall." As the words left my mouth I immediately regretted it. Kids freak too easily; and all I needed was David here to start screaming about how he was going to die. I'd be yanking the cord out of the speaker soon enough.

A few seconds later he was back. "They say to keep on going; if we do fall through you're close enough to hold us up." I could tell he was confused. "I don't understand."

"Sure you do." Edging the throttle forward I waited for the digger to catch up, the sudden jerk jolting me in the safety harness. "I'm going to come out under you and wedge myself into the crack. So if you do break free you'll just land on top of me."

"Oh. Cool."

The screen showed that we were about to burst through the crevasse wall. Kicking the throttle into full I listened to the engine whine it's annoyance. "Just a few seconds more..." I grunted, my stomach giving a sickening lurch.

The digger burst through the empty vacuum, slamming into the opposite wall so hard that I smacked my forehead on the overhead monitor. Reaching up I felt wetness and added another item to my list of rewards. Slapping my hand on the kill switch for the drills I felt the engine shudder as the steel bits anchored themselves securely in the stone. Well, I was hoping it was securely. A fast glance showed that my rear treads had grabbed a solid grip in the tunnel, the small spikes shooting out to secure my back end. Yes, I've heard that joke before.

"Are you okay?" David's voice sizzled through the speaker. I licked my lips, tasting steel.

"I'm fine. How are you doing?"

"The buggy... it kinda bounced for a second, but it's okay." A short pause. "I can see you!" The squeaky voice dragged a smile out of me. "Wow..."

"She's not a pretty ride, but she's mine." I reached for the water bottle down by my right stump. "Just stay put and don't move around much. They'll be dropping straps around you and then pulling you up slowly." The water was warm and smelt of my own sweat.

"Okay... so what is your name?"

Pouring a few drops into my hand I wiped my face, unable to see much by the dim light of the cockpit. "Josh. Joshua." The words sounded strange on my tongue, a foreign language. I had been Badger Ten for so long that I had almost forgotten my original name.

"So what did you do?" The voice sounded more confident, almost daring me to answer.

"What do you think?" I couldn't help but smile. Punk kid.

"None of your business." Taking a sip I pushed the bottle back into the holder. Better not waste any. "So, what brought you and your dad out here?"

"The driver said he could show us where Armstrong landed."

"Really." The scammer, he meant. They were hell and gone from what remained of Apollo 11. "That sounds pretty cool."

"Have you been there?" The voice sounded a bit calmer; more relaxed.

"Don't get topside much. Usually I'm either underground or heading to or from the mining camp. Not much tourist travel for me."

"Oh, right. I forgot." The channel went silent for a few minutes. "I can see them!"

"See what?" I tapped the small keyboard at my right, bringing up my rear camera again. Nothing but black.

"There's a guy here... he's about to clip on something to the buggy!" He squeaked.

"He's going to fasten a cable to anchor you. Then they're going to put a pair of straps under you and haul you up slowly."

"Why can't they just pull us up on that?" A note of panic crept in.

"Because it's not strong enough to pull you, silly." Clicking the comm link with my chin twice, I began to type on the stale keyboard, a seldom-used luxury. It was always easier to speak, but we kept the old text method open for those conversations we didn't really want to make public - usually dirty comments between diggers in the middle of a job.

*estimated time of retrieval?*

The reply took too long to be comfortable. *maybe hour, probably less. keep boy calm.*

I wasn't lying when I told David that they couldn't pull him up with the cable. But the straps weren't going to be much more help when it came to cranking them up. They were only made of fabric and fabric can tear and fatigue and snap just when you need them the most. He wasn't going to be safe until he was sitting back at the base with a cold drink in his hand and his father with the medics.

"So..." The wispy voice sparked to life again. "Have you found any diamonds?"

"No." I couldn't help but chuckle. "It's nothing major; mostly access tunnels for the workers to get in and set charges. Then the real miners get in there and pull it out; my drills are too big and bulky to do delicate work."

Suddenly a metal scream shot out over the speakers, matched by the low grunting of my digger as we slid down the crevasse a good foot, if not more. Stabbing the buttons hard I heard the treads smash into the side of the crack, groaning as they spun skyward; increasing the tenuous grip I had on the stone. The drills were still anchored, the pivoting heads reaching the end of their arc. My ears rung from the sound of the pebbles and rocks bouncing off my lid, hopefully nothing heavy enough to disable a system or punch the smallest hole.

"It... we..." He was gasping now, probably using up more oxygen that he should. "We hit you..."

"It's okay." My fingers danced over the keyboard, demanding a response. I was pretty sure that now I was all that stood between the kid and eternity, carrying the hummer literally on my back.

*cable broke as ship shifted. straps on the way now.*

Glorious. And if they weren't fast enough there'd be three dead bodies in there. As it was, I didn't have a whole lot of hope that if the digger shifted again that they wouldn't roll off and go down anyway.

"David, you're going to have to calm down." I put every bit of smoothness into my voice; called up long-forgotten skills. "You're going to have to preserve as much oxygen as possible for your dad and the pilot, okay?"

"Okay..." The faint mumble was shaky and uncertain.

"Hey, you know what I've seen? Something I bet you've never even heard of."

"What?" The voice picked up, curious.

"The caverns. Ever hear about those?"

"Caverns?" David snickered. "Moon caverns?"

"Yep. There's lots of them down here, when you get deep enough." I looked down as another message crawled across the screen. "They're nothing like on Earth, though. See, there you get those things sticking up and down from the ceiling and the ground from the water, you know?"

"You mean stalagmites?"

"Those things, right. Well, since there's no water on the moon you don't see those here. But what you do see is a giant bubble, like someone took a giant straw and puffed out a bubble in the rock. But it's not smooth, not everywhere. There's little jagged spots, like if you poked your finger into the bubble and made it burst." I drew a deep breath, acutely aware of my own oxygen. "And then in spots there's polished stuff; quartz or marble or something, depends on the vein. It bounces the lights all over the place, all shiny and smooth and prettier than any piece of jewelry you'll see in any shop between Mars and Earth."

There was no reply.

"David?" I nudged my chin on the button, clicking it twice. "Hey, David... I know I'm boring company, but sheesh... I didn't think I was that bad."

"Badger Ten, come in." I glanced at the communication panel, seeing that the frequency hadn't changed. "Badger Ten..."

"I'm here. Where are you?"

"We got the straps around the buggy okay. Pulling him up now."

"Cool. I'm next, right?"

The strangled silence told me all I needed to know. Taking a swig of water I closed my eyes and waited.

"Joshua?" It might have been minutes later or an hour, I was afraid to look at the chromo. "Joshua, you okay?"

"David?" I cleared my throat. "Are you okay?"

"They pulled us up out of the hole. Dad's gonna be fine; so's the driver. They said that I did a good job patching him up."

"That you did, kid. That you did." The water bottle was empty. I could wait for it to recycle my urine and sweat in a few hours, but I had a feeling I didn't have that time.

"They say..." Another squeak, this one more nervous than the first. "I told them to go back and save you."

"It's okay, David." Even though he couldn't see me, I held up my hand, pressing it against the cool steel over my head. "It's okay. What's important is that you keep on taking care of your dad." My own voice began to squeak. "My father wasn't around much for me, so you keep him around as long as you can, okay?"

"Joshua..."

The digger lurched to one side, jamming me up against the left controls. I didn't have to look at the monitor over my head to know that gravity was doing a job on me. Even at one-sixth that of Earth, it still was a nasty mother when it had to be. The drills were starting to bend free, metal fatigue snapping them out of the stone holes I had pushed them into.

"Just let the shell crack on the way down." I mumbled, gazing at the top of the cockpit. "For what I've done today, just give me that much."

The metal screamed as we pitched to the right. Holding my breath I listened for the telltale hiss of escaping atmosphere. Nothing.

My lower lip was swollen, pressing up against my bottom teeth as I spat out some blood. There was nothing I could do but wait. Or pop the hatch and go for that rapid decomp death some of the boyos had joked about back in training camp.

Reaching out I put my right hand over the button, the clear plastic cover protecting it for the moment. I had to physically flip it up to hit the button, someone's idea of a security lock. All I had to do was poke it with my finger then punch the actual switch and that would be it.

Suddenly I felt the digger shift again, but this was different. Then we began to move, a slow steady drag down into the moon's innards. I felt, rather than heard the drills snap, the strained metal finally giving way. They had done their job, and done it well.

"Badger Ten... can you hear me?" The chief's voice was more cheerful than I remembered.

My index finger flipped up the scratched plastic protector, resting on the button. I didn't have any magnificent last words to send out to David or his rescuers.

"Badger Ten, check your monitors."

I closed my eyes, my left hand dancing over the keyboard; punching up my external cameras. Taking a ragged breath I slowly opened them.

"Welcome home, Badger Ten." The rough moonscape swung under me as the crane began to back up away from the edge of the crevasse.

"How's the kid?" I coughed, trying to speak with a dry throat.

"He's fine. Dad's going to pull through and you're a fricking hero. Governor wants to give you a medal. He's talking about taking another look at your case; maybe early parole." I could see him waving at me from a distance, silhouetted on a small pile of rubble. "Welcome home... Joshua."

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Author Bio

Sheryl Nantus was born in Montreal, Canada and grew up in Toronto, Canada. A firm believer in the healing properties of peppermint and chai tea she continues to write short stories and novels while searching for the perfect cuppa.

Her vampire and chocolate novel, "The Second Line", is now available at Mundania Press, Amazon.com and through her website at www.sherylnantus.com.

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