Chapter 4 – Harvesting the Alien Field...
"Aren't you glad I dragged you onto the harvester?" Sissy's voice filled Sal's helmet with joy. "Don't try to deny it. Isn't it incredible? Doesn't it make everything worthwhile?"
Sal's mind reeled and forced him to hesitate before stepping out of the harvester upon the surface of AU803. Though thin and toxic, the atmosphere shimmering in shades of pinks and reds tempted Sal to remove his helmet so that his eyes might look, unhindered, upon the majesty surrounding him. Though he knew to do so meant a terrible death of boiling blood and suffocation, Sal's fingers yearned to unfasten his spacesuit so that his naked feet my stride upon that incredible moon. Glazkov IV loomed above the horizon in its own luminescence, tendrils of it lightning snapping towards that moon before bending and curving along AU803's thin sky. Small blue and silver sparks of ball lightning penetrated the atmosphere and, like summer lightning bugs, danced in the moon's weak wind, reminding Sal of nights spent watching heat lightning next to his grandmother on one of the housing stack's porches.
"The sky is amazing," Sal whistled into his helmet.
The loudest rounds of laughter Sal had yet heard answered in his speakers.
David's words chuckled into Sal's helmet. "Yeah, you sure are a green rookie. Hell Sal, you haven't even looked down yet. Haven't even looked at what we've come all this way to pick. Close your eyes and jump out if you have to. We're on a schedule, and we don't have time to wait for you to tip-toe out of the harvester. Now go before I push you out."
Sal hopped out of the harvester and smiled as he felt himself drift in the moon's low gravitational field. Sal turned away from the sight of Glazkov IV as he hopped out of the harvester.
It was at that moment when Sal Maddox lost his breath.
David's voice again laughed in Sal's helmet. "The rookie's going to stumble. Hope he doesn't smash too much of the firedrop."
Sal hit the ground at a hard angle, his momentum pushing him to his knees and sliding him forward. Sal counted to ten before he felt sufficiently settled to again attempt to move. His mind stammered. He could only stare, and drool, at his surroundings.
Firedrop blossomed everywhere upon AU803's flat and barren landscape. Beads of pulsating gold flowed along veins crisscrossing pedals of glowing crimson. He had never dreamed of earning enough wealth to afford even a plateful of the firedrop that surrounded him. Before he had been assigned to a harvester's crew, Sal could have only hoped to peek at the firedrop from the back of a envious crowd gathered at a vendor's tent.
"Now I understand why there are no pictures of AU803," Sal spoke into his helmet. "A person should be forced to brave Glazkov's wrath to see such a sight. And pictures would never give the view enough credit."
Several of the dark, visored helmets nodded towards Sal.
Sal possessed a view even the uber-wealthy on Earth would never know. Glazkov IV's electrical storm energized the firedrop into beautiful activity. Sal had never imagined looking upon firedrop so fresh as not to even yet be pulled from its native soil. He had never dreamed pedals could contain so much glowing color, that the beads of gold could swirl and pulsate with such an alluring intensity. Above, the mighty gas giant hurled tridents of lightning towards their small moon, and the firedrop responded in shining, shimmering magnificence.
"Remember, Sal, we only have so much time to gather the firedrop," Sissy's words rattled through Sal's helmet. "We've got to fill the harvester to the brim if we want to salvage this trip and get paid the good money back home. And trust me, it little bothers the captain if we spend too much time on the moon and black out before the harvester can float back to the Klondike."
Roy's voice growled inside of Sal's speakers. "She's telling you to stop gaping and start gathering. We're on the clock after losing the Carmack."
Sal cursed himself and shook his head to wake himself into action. Amazed by the view, he had forgotten about the fate of the Carmack and its crew. While he smiled at all the glowing color, his crew mates had failed to find the Carmack. Sal felt he should have shown the lost crew more respect. No matter the glowing and twinkling splendor of AU803, a dozen men and women were lost now, dead and sacrificed to the immense void. Sal hoped their harvest would be worthy of such a price.
Sal quickly gathered firedrop into his sacks. The weed, or the plant, or whatever some scientist might later classify the firedrop to be, needed little inspection before being pulled out of the moon. One firedrop appeared the same in size compared to any other. No one had ever witnessed a firedrop sprouting from the ground. Nor could anyone recall ever pulling out a firedrop that looked either withered or old. The firedrop easily released from the ground, lacking much any kind of a root system to anchor the glowing blossoms to the landscape. One firedrop looked as beautiful as any other. One only needed to look upon his or her boots to decide which firedrop next needed to be pulled and gathered into a sack.
Sal harvested the firedrop with abandon. He had tended to the Klondike's mundane and routine duties for months. He had lived too long in the cramped confines of a starship's shell. For too long, he had breathed the recycled air that always tasted flat. His tiresome days floating in space had made Sal a man who sighed through the Klondike's halls, without as much confidence needed to look up from his shambling boots.
But, thankfully, Sissy and protocol had chosen him to man the back-up harvester Skookum sent floating to AU803 to harvest the crimson firedrop after the loss of the Carmack and a dozen good men. Sal counted himself among the few who had braved the perils of space, and of Glazkov IV, to be rewarded with the view of the firedrop shimmering and pulsating upon its moon. Sal thought the vista effective medicine for his soul.
"Easy there," David's voice returned to Sal's helmet. "Slow down and show a little more care. Any ruffled pedal slows the pulsating of the light in the firedrop. The tent vendors next to the spaceports pay according to how well the light beats and glows. So be gentle if you want to get the most out of your harvest."
Sal matched his pace with that of his fellow crew members. Glazkov IV continued to spark overhead as the harvesters of the Skookum filled their ship's hold with their alien treasure. Sal heard only the rhythm of his breathing as his suit's tanks filled his helmet with oxygen. His movements acclimated to the moon's slight gravity. But though his surroundings felt less strange with each firedrop he collected, Sal never felt the view any less wonderful.
Only, that planetary system ruled by the massive gas giant was as lethal as it was beautiful. Any calm that Glazkov IV allowed that crew to feel was but a cruel allusion.
Sal peered up one moment from his harvesting to see Sissy filling her bags with glowing pedals only a few meters in front of him. He looked down again at his boots to pull another firedrop from the ground, and when Sal looked up to place another glowing blossom into his bag, Sissy had vanished from his sight.
One second ago, Sissy had stood just before him.
One second had passed, and Sissy was gone.
"Dave! Ray! Ish! Help! My visor is...."
The crew dropped their bags as Sissy's cries screamed into their helmets, their hands again rising to the sides of their helmets as Sissy's panic pained their ears. Sal jumped towards the spot where he had last seen Sissy, and his momentum nearly doomed him as he landed precariously short of the sinkhole that had collapsed beneath Sissy as she had gathered glowing blossoms of firedrop. Sal leaned over the hole as Sissy's frantic screams in his helmet transformed into choking gargles, before then turning into crushing silence. Sal leaned forward as far as he dared to catch any glimpse of the sinkhole's bottom. He saw only darkness and shadow. Not even a faint glow from the firedrops Sissy had gathered into her bag rose from the hole's depths.
"She's gone, Sal," Ray's voice whispered in his helmet. "All you can do is pick your bag back up and salvage what you can."
"There's nothing anyone can do for her now," David's voice crept into Sal's speakers. "She was burning and choking in the end. Her s
uit lost pressure. Even if we had the time and equipment, a corpse would be the only thing we would pull out of that hole."
A dark visor nodded towards Sal, and Ish's voice spoke to him. "Sissy could not have wished for a more resplendent grave. Her spirit glows with the firedrop now."
"All of us know the risk," Ray returned. "Everyone and their mother would be boarding rockets for Glazkov IV if there wasn't any danger. The danger is what makes it worthwhile. The danger is what makes any of us special. Stay wide and clear of the pit and get back to collecting the firedrop with the rest of us. We're limited on time, and now we've lost a good hand. There will be time enough to remember Sissy once we return to the Klondike with a harvester filled with firedrop."
None of the dark visors hesitated an instant before returning to their harvesting. Sal surprised himself as he returned to picking the firedrop without voicing any protest. Silently, the crew gathered the firedrop without another incident and filled the Skookum's hold with glowing, crimson treasure. The harvester's rockets fired without a hitch, and they denied Glazkov IV another snack of mortal man when their ship returned to the Klondike.
And though he tried so hard during the entire float back to the Klondike, Sal felt a piece of his heart turn to stone as he failed to recall any of the features that had shaped Sissy's face.
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