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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2196789-Angel-of-the-Mine
Rated: E · Fiction · Sci-fi · #2196789
Incomplete sketch of a place and brief appearance of one of the MCs in my WIP
Another day another cred. That’s what my outlook on life boils down at the end of the day. I’m just here to make a quick credit on either by sweat or on my back. Just like a lot of the folk around here.
We’re not like the guards from the SPC up north. Though they do like to spend some creds out here every once in awhile. Mainly the new boys they get in. And sometimes one of them grey boys or girls will wander in from that way, but they don’t stay very long. Not when they get run out by men with mining gear keen to chase ‘em out.
It’s a hard life here in town, but it can be harder for those down in the pits. They work with bots and droids to bring out the metals Earth needs and some of the veins are running out. There’s rumors running round that when the metal is all gone the company is just going to leave us here to rot like the grey crew.
Can’t say I blame the company none about that. Don’t make much sense hauling miners and their git back across the stars when it is just as easy to bury them out here. Still, I don’t think the company will do that. Too many other places just as remote and godforsaken out there to mine. Closer they are to Syrus than they are to Earth.
But let me tell you about the Mine Angel that most have caught glimpses of, but who I met on a not so distant night.
Pale as the moon back home, she is. Hair like a living flame of gold and ruby that she keeps hidden under a black hood. Like the old hangman tales. Slits for the eyes and mouth, and nothing else. She always wears black. I haven’t ever seen the girl wear anything else.
It hugs every line on her body but you can’t see the shape of her. Like one of those camouflage uniforms that they have back home. The kind the urban outfits wear that blends into everything until the men wear ‘em can’t be seen even if you were standing next to ‘em.
Well, this Angel of ours has the same gear. Maybe she was part of an urban unit. Maybe she stole it off a dead man. Maybe she was one of those who tried to resist sending people off to die in space. She don’t speak to us so we don’t know her story. But she saved the lives of more than one child of the mines.
Happened maybe a year ago. Could be longer now that I think about it. There was a day trip for the younglings who were getting their education on how to operate the antique machines we have to work with. There were maybe six or eight of ‘em that headed below with the teacher, a company man sent to ensure the workforce got what education they needed.
They were only supposed to be gone a few hours, but once they were below that teacher became a monster. He blew the entrance so that those younglings were trapped with him under the rubble and dirt.
You never heard such wailing. Not even in the old days before they shipped us out here. Women and men pounding on the rocks with whatever they could lay their hands on. Some trying to get the machines back online so they could dig out from the inside. But nothing was working.
Three days of wailing and hammering away at the stone. Three days of hearing our younglings cry for us to get them out. Three days of hearing shrieks and moans echoing through the tunnel vents.
Then it all went quiet.
Not even the wind moved that day when the mine fell silent. It all went dead.
Then from up higher on the mountain came our younglings. Covered in dirt and grime and black dust from the mine. Bruised and bloody they were. All of ‘em had something wrong with them,but they were alive and out of the mine.
Let me tell you the party that went on in town was something not even the company could put a stop to. Drink flowed and there was dancing. Men and women grabbing each other and disappearing into the night together. Everyone was happy again. They forgot about the teacher and all noise from the mine that had gone on for three days.
Myself, I kept back from the bonfires and dancing. I haven’t been young for a very long time and that night I was feeling it a bit more than usual. So I was the only one who saw our Angel walk in from the mine and watch the other dance.
The light didn’t reflect in her eyes and the shadows seemed to slip and slide around and through her. There but not there really.
She turned those flat eyes toward me and we stared across the space between us at each other. I watched her come toward me and I must admit something close to thrill sent a shiver down my twisted spine. She moved with a predator’s step when its stalking prey.
Then from one step to the next her eyes blazed to life and I could see that they were a green I hadn’t seen before. Not the green of forests or emeralds. This was the green of pale jade that had been polished so its clouded uniqueness was revealed. Her step altered too. No longer was I watching a predator stalk me in the shadows. Now she moved as any young woman might. A slight sway to the hips as she glides across a dance floor.
“Thank you.” I says when she stops just a little out of reach.
Her head slipped to the side, “For what?” she asks and I think she truly doesn’t know.
I nod toward the biggest bonfire where the younglings have gathered and the largest part of the crowd swarms around them.
“For that.” I answer her.
I watched her watching them with her lips pulled down in a frown. I couldn’t see her face but I knew by the way she stopped moving, stopped breathing that she finally remembered what she had done for us. She met my eyes again and I could see the jade slipping away into some other color. It wasn’t black exactly but it was such a deep color that I don’t remember if there was any real color to those eyes at all.
“Don’t ever thank a creature like me, Samuel Gibbons.” she told me. “It implies a debt that may one day be called in.”
Those were the last words she spoke to me. And I never did reply to them. By the time a single sound left my old lips she was long gone. Taken or melted back into the shadows that danced with the bonfires.
Sure I’ve seen our Angel a few more times, but she keeps her distance from me. I figure that she’ll call in my debt before I die and I’m okay with that. She may not be human, well not completely human, but she gave this town back its next generation. Maybe that was a blessing. Maybe it will be their curse. Who knows.
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