The only light Bernice could see was the amber reflected glow from the instrument display in her helmet. She gritted her teeth, forcing her sluggish senses to focus on essentials and ignore the shrill agony nearby. Pressure okay. Oxygen-- about six hours. Power-- a little longer, but that would hardly matter.

She was in no immediate danger. She could afford time now for other things, specifically locating her injured comrade.

With gloved hands, she fumbled at her belt for the emergency aid kit there even as she used the chin switch inside her helmet to activate her radio homing device and track the source of the signal that still assaulted her ears. Just above her helmet's transparent faceplate, a glowing compass rose appeared in pale green with a dim red needle superimposed on the holographic image. Below it appeared the range in meters. Twenty degrees to her left, six meters. She advanced with care, feeling with her outstretched hands, until her right hand met another suit helmet.

Bernice felt over the body in the darkness and determined that the suit was still holding pressure, but from the hips down, her companion was buried beneath tons of lunar rock. Even at one sixth gravity, this was not good. The agonized screaming continued, making it hard for her concentrate in the utter darkness.

"Christ," she muttered. "Shut up. Just please shut up." She felt around in the aid kit until her fingers found an emergency ampoule of morphine, then jabbed it hard against the suited shoulder under her hands. It was, thank God, perfectly possible to inject drugs through a pressure suit-- such a tiny leak had little or no effect on the suit's ability to hold pressure.

It took many minutes for the screaming to stop. Bernice hardly moved during that time. She felt as though she were clinging to sanity by her toenails. But, eventually, the shrieks faded to moans and whimpers, then died away altogether. Bernice sagged against the rock wall next to her and tried to collect the shreds of her composure.

With her radio frequency clear, she now heard another voice, plaintively asking of the darkness, "Can anybody read me?"

Bernice keyed her transmitter. "I can hear you, Lisa. Are you hurt?"

"No. I don't think so. I've got pressure."

"That's a start," Bernice admitted with more dry humor than she intended. "I've got somebody here who's hurt, and I don't want to lose them in the dark. Can you home on me?"

"I . . . think so."

"On second thought, don't take a chance on falling. Feel around and see if any of the lamps is near you. Let's get some light on this mess and see where we stand."

"Okay. It might take a second."

"Take your time," Bernice told her. "I think we may have a lot of it."

A few moments passed in silence, then a light flared so brightly that Bernice had to close her eyes until the glare shielding in her helmet darkened a little. Lisa Andrews scrambled the few feet necessary to kneel beside her shift boss, one of the huge halogen emergency lanterns dangling from her suit glove.

When Bernice opened her eyes again, she bent low to ascertain the identity of the injured miner. She cursed in a hoarse whisper, then looked up to meet Lisa's questioning gaze. "It's Lawrence."

"I'm sorry."

Lisa held the lamp high and turned slowly, revealing their predicament in all its stark clarity. The roof of the mine tunnel had collapsed, dropping countless tons of rock and dust into the only tunnel that led to the exit. The tunnel behind Lisa was relatively clear, though littered with fallen rock, but Bernice knew too well that it led only to a dead end half a klick away-- the end of the tunnel. They were trapped.

"My God," Lisa whispered. "You told them."

Bernice shrugged, exhaustion in her voice. "Yeah. I did, didn't I?"

The trouble was that Lunar Mines, Inc., had grown too fast. Demand for raw materials was at an all time high on Earth. Immigration by workers of every class was growing exponentially as well, as the job markets decayed back home. In simple terms, the mine had grown faster than the structural supports needed to keep the tunnels safe, even at Lunar gravity.

Like Bernice herself, many of the mine workers were old hands at mining on their home world, and they saw their danger all too clearly. But in a world where even the air they needed to breathe could only be purchased from the company, there was little they could do about it. Bernice had been among the most vocal. The company would have fired her if they had dared, but a one-way ticket back to Terra would have given her unlimited and free access to the very news media that could most hurt their recruiting. They compromised by hiring a tough and ambitious mining engineer as a consultant. His name was Charles Lawrence.

Lunar Mines thought they could control Lawrence through that very ambition, but they were wrong. He immediately and very publicly joined with Bernice to recommend a temporary shutdown. Lunar Mines management had played for time by requesting detailed plans for structural improvements-- first.

Not that it mattered now.

Bernice turned back to her patient. Lawrence was sweaty, with the pale look of deep shock, but he seemed to be unconscious. Her morphine jab had done what it was designed to do.

Lisa swallowed, the gesture visible through her faceplate. "In this gravity-- could we dig out, maybe?"

Bernice controlled her irritated response to the naive question and tried to answer gently. "The problem," she began, "isn't the rock we can see. We could maybe shift that. Maybe. But there is at least a mile of rock over our heads that would come tumbling down if we tried it. We'd better just wait for the folks with the right equipment."

"Shouldn't we be calling for help?"

Bernice shook her head. "Be my guest, girl. But not even the base transmitter could punch through that lot."

"But how do they know there's anybody alive down here?"

"They don't," Bernice admitted. "If it's any comfort to you, that's why you've been pulling triple pay for the last six months." She drew a deep breath. "Better get down to business. How's your oxygen?"

"Five and a half hours. At normal activity, that is."

Bernice nodded. "Okay. Well, we've got to stay active for just a bit yet, to look for survivors."

"Active? Is that wise?"

Bernice's voice was gentle. "As far as oh-two is concerned, maybe not. But if you were hurt and lying in one of these tunnels, would you want me to look for you?"

Lisa nodded, her expression chastened.

"I thought so. Look, girl, we may or may not die down here. That's a fact. But we've got a choice to make now, about how we die. Do you understand me?"

Lisa nodded again. "Yes."

"Good. I'm going to look for survivors. You coming?"

Lisa extended a hand to help Bernice to her feet. "Yes. I'm sorry."

Bernice smiled, the expression genuine, though thin and weary. "No need. I'd be lying if I said it hadn't occurred to me. Let's go."

Five minutes later, they knew it was hopeless. The only other pressure suit was spotted by Bernice. The unfortunate miner's visor had been cracked by falling rock, and the remains were not identifiable. Bernice had to control herself sternly to keep from throwing up in her helmet. The idiots would look up in a rockfall! When she had the reflex under control, she checked his oxygen supply. Empty. The suit had tried to stay inflated, and all the precious gas had been lost to vacuum.

Lisa was sniffling in her helmet as they walked back to the injured Lawrence. Understandable, Bernice decided, and forebore to comment.

"What now?" the younger woman asked.

"We sit very quietly, use as little oxygen as we can, and wait for help. If Lawrence wakes up, he'll need more morphine. Your aid kit intact?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then we'll have enough to last. One way or another."

The two women settled down with their backs to the rocky walls of the tunnel.

There was a long silence, broken at last by Lisa. "Okay if we talk a little?" she asked.

Bernice almost answered in the negative, thinking of their oxygen supply, but a trace of pity touched her when she realized that her younger companion could not bear the silence. "Sure," she said at last. "What about?"

Strangely, Lisa did not answer for a long moment. When she did, there was a trace of wry humor in her tone. "It's funny, but I signed on with Luna Mines looking for adventure. If I'd wanted to die in a cave-in, I should have stayed in Pennsylvania."

Bernice chuckled in spite of herself. "True enough."

"Have we got a chance, Bernice?"

The older woman shrugged. "Of course. They'll find us eventually."

"But will it be in time?"

Bernice shook her head. "That I don't know. It depends on whether they think there are any survivors this deep-- and we don't know what happened topside when all hell broke loose. All we can do is wait."

"I guess you're right."

Bernice leaned back against the tunnel wall behind her. "'Course I'm right. Better try to sleep some. We're burning too much oh-two."

Both women were awakened a couple of hours later by a low moan. Bernice was immediately at the engineer's side. "We're here, Charlie. Lisa and me. You need some more morphine?"

"No," Lawrence whispered. "I can't feel anything below my hips."

"That's a good sign," Bernice lied. "You hang in there. They'll have us out of this in no time."

Bernice could see Lawrence shake his head inside his helmet. "Don't bullshit me, woman. How bad is it?"

Bernice sighed. "It's bad, I'm afraid. You're buried from the waist down. We won't know until they dig us out. At least we know you've still got pressure. How's your oh-two?"

"Two hours, just about."

Bernice didn't say anything. It was an hour less than she and Lisa had.

"Maybe you should give me an overdose," Lawrence said quietly. "What good's an engineer without legs? And it would be another hour apiece for you two."

"None of that, now!" Bernice snapped. "You wouldn't take none of that crap offa me, Charlie Lawrence, and you know it. We all make it, or we all check out right here. That's how it is."

"You're a bossy bitch, Bernie, you know that?"

Bernice grinned in spite of herself. "Yeah, and don't you forget it. Shut up now, and save oxygen. Let me know if you need another shot."

Bernice settled back at Charlie's acquiescent nod. Lisa's eyes were wide open, her face pale. Bernice shook her head, warning the girl to keep her mouth shut. Lisa clamped her lips together, said nothing. It was a hard way to grow up, but Lisa was doing it-- fast. Bernice just hoped the girl would live long enough to enjoy it.

Bernice dozed a little over the next hour and a half, but her inner alarm clock warned her when Lawrence would be getting low on oxygen. She sat up and took a look at him. He had lapsed into unconsciousness again, but he was not in any distress yet. She fumbled in her aid kit to give him another morphine jab. Best if he would stay out, because what was coming wouldn't be much fun for him. She waited until she was sure the drug had taken effect before waking Lisa.

"Yeah," Lisa muttered in response to Bernice's call. She sat up and shook her head. "What's up?"

"Lawrence will be running short on oh-two in a little while. We'll have to shift him to get at his bottle. I'll need your help."

Lisa's eyes focused. "What do you have in mind?" she demanded.

"These suits hold about five minute's worth. We'll have to shift my bottle back and forth-- buddy breathe, sort of. It will buy us a little more time."

"My God," Lisa whispered. "That will cut your time in half."

Bernice nodded. "I know. Can't be helped."

The girl swallowed, looking at the older woman. "Do you think he's got a chance? I mean--"

"I know what you mean," Bernice snapped, then continued more gently. "I'm not sure. But he's made it this long-- I think he's got a chance. And I can't live with myself if I don't give him that chance."

Lisa nodded, her expression firming. "Well, then, we'll have to alternate bottles-- that will only cut your time by a third. And it will give him a bit more, as well."

Bernice blinked back tears. "Thank you, Lisa. I misjudged you. But the answer is no. You're the youngest of us. You've got more living ahead of you, and the most to lose if we don't make it out of this. You keep your bottle on your back, where it belongs."

Lisa shook her head. "No, dammit! I will not let you shut me out of this! You said it yourself, boss-lady-- we're in this together. We get out together. Or not at all."

Bernice stared at the girl for a long moment. "Grown up a bit, have we?" she asked with pleasant flippancy, then her voice became quite serious. "All right. Together, or not at all." She reached out to clasp Lisa's gloved hand in hers. "I wasn't sure when I met you, but you belong out here, girl. I hope you decide to stay."

Lisa grinned a bit dryly. "Okay. But not right here, if you don't mind. Let's get after it."

They'd been into the routine for only a few minutes when Bernice spoke softly. "Lisa?"

"Mmm?"

"You ever think of out-migrating?"

Lisa shifted her position, getting more comfortable against the tunnel wall. "Not really. Why?"

"I've thought about it a lot, these last few months. There are some good mines in the asteroids-- and the micro-gravity out there doesn't lend itself to cave-ins."

Lisa grinned. "Good selling point. Why haven't you done it?"

Bernice didn't say anything, but she turned to look at Lawrence, and Lisa thought she caught a glimpse of tears on her cheeks.

And so it went for the next hour. Lisa and Bernice both skated the edge of unconsciousness, watching each other as they coldly and deliberately squeezed the last minutes and seconds out of their oh-two bottles and tried to keep the injured man beside them alive.

It wasn't going to work. They breathed all three bottles absolutely dry and sucked up the reserves. There was no rescue in sight and not so much as a whisper of oxygen left. Bernice was drifting into unconsciousness when she heard Lisa's gasping words. "I'm . . . not sorry. I want you to . . . know that."

Bernice was too far gone to answer, but she clasped Lisa's gloved fingers in hers and tightened just as the roof collapsed on them both. Bernice herself, no longer caring, violated her own safety rules to look up through the falling rock. Light! And a man, several oxygen bottles strapped to his suited back, rapelling down a vertical shaft toward them! She was grinning from ear to ear when she blacked out.

Bernice came to for a few moments in the pressurized hospital transport rolling over the rough Lunar terrain. Her helmet was off, and someone was holding a portable oxygen mask over her face. When her eyes opened, a medic's face leaned over her.

"Don't try to talk," he cautioned her. "But I thought you'd want to know. They're both alive."

Bernice didn't see Charlie again until he appeared at the accident hearing. She'd tried to see him several times in the hospital, and Lisa had tried, but they had been told he adamantly refused to see visitors.

As soon as Bernice saw him, she knew why. When she and Lisa arrived for the hearing, they saw Charlie across the room. For a moment, Bernice didn't even recognize him. When she did, her gasp caused Lisa to reach out and clutch her hand.

Lawrence looked decades older, thin and pale. His legless body in its wheelchair was not nearly so disfiguring as the twisted and bitter expression on his face. When he was called to the stand, he gave his evidence in a cold, unemotional voice that had little human inflection.

Bernice also testified, her voice shaking as she relived the terrible accident. The story unfolded with the testimony, a tawdry tale of human greed and laziness.

The judge was angry when he returned a verdict of criminal negligence, awarding generous damages to the survivors and to the families of those who had not been so fortunate. The operations manager of Luna Mines was to face criminal charges. All in all, it was a just and satisfactory outcome, but there was no hint of a smile on Charlie's lips or in his eyes as he listened to it.

After the hearing, Bernice approached Charlie, blocking his way as he awkwardly attempted to wheel himself from the courtroom. Lisa could not help overhearing their short conversation.

"I suppose," Charlie said, "that I should thank you for my life. But I am having a little trouble feeling grateful just now."

Bernice reddened a little, and her eyes narrowed in anger. "Goddamn it, Charlie, you've got your life and your health! You've just been awarded enough money to live in luxury the rest of your life! And what's this bullshit I hear about refusing to even try prosthetics?"

Charlie did not rise to the bait. He simply shrugged. "What's the point? I'll never work at my profession again, prosthetics or no. So why put myself through all that? For what? And what's it to you, anyway?"

Bernice gritted her teeth so hard it was almost audible. "Charles Lawrence, you've lost your legs, not your mind. You've got more mining know-how in your little finger than most of us learn in a lifetime-- and the richest lodes in the Solar System are out where nobody is likely to give a good goddamn about your legs. I can't make you want to live, but if you don't know why it matters to me, than you're a great deal stupider than I give you credit for! Chew on that for a while!" She turned on her heel and stormed out of the courtroom.

Lawrence stared after her for several minutes, his expression surprised and deeply thoughtful.

It was late one Friday night, months later, when Bernice knocked on the door to Lisa's quarters.

"Hi!" Lisa exclaimed when she opened the door. "Come on in. What's that you've got?"

"It's a letter from Charlie. I thought you'd want to hear it-- it's sort of addressed to both of us."

"Oh, I'm so glad he finally wrote! How is he?"

Bernice smiled. "Great. He said to tell you that his prosthetics work fine-- though he can't figure out why he bothered. He says he needs legs in the asteroids like a boar hog needs teats."

Lisa laughed warmly. "So he likes it out there?"

Bernice nodded. "Better than that, Lisa! He says he's found the motherlode of all time, and he wants us to come help him work it!" She laughed. "He also said that if you were reluctant, I should tell you that there are still twenty men to every woman out there . . . "

Lisa eyed her friend. "You said once that you wanted to go. How do you feel about it now?"

Bernice frowned. "Well . . . the Outward Bound leaves Luna in about three weeks . . . and I thought . . . " She shook her head. "But I'd miss you something awful if I signed aboard her . . . "

Lisa relaxed, grinning. "No sweat. Better reserve two berths. God knows we've got the fare, courtesy of Luna Mines." She hesitated, then laughed a little. "Guess I always wanted to see what a 'motherlode' looks like."

Bernice hesitated. "I want to go. I want to see Charlie again as much as anything. But are you sure, Lisa? Motherlode or no, there may not be enough money for any trip back. Doesn't matter to me-- I'm not getting any younger anyway. But you--"

Lisa smiled, but her voice was serious. "I'm sure, Bernie. Really sure. Luna's getting a little tame and civilized for me. I'd like to see how life is on the fringe. Hell, I might even move on to Titan one day."

Bernice looked at her. "Yes. You have it in your blood now. I guess I'd better go make us some reservations."

Lisa smiled and shook her head at the closing door. She sat down on the edge of her bunk. It was true. It got into their blood, this frontier, and there was no escaping it. All over the system, the big ships moved. On the inward leg, the cargo holds were full to overflowing with supplies for a dying world, the cabins nearly empty. But on the outward leg, the cargo was people-- talent and skills for the wild new worlds out there. People like Bernice and herself, who needed this challenge to survive. People like Charlie Lawrence, who'd made a rich new life for himself where gravity no longer reminded him of his loss. It was a raging flood, headed always outward, to Luna, to Mars, to the asteroids, to the frozen moons of the huge gas giants in the outer dark.

And eventually, to the stars.

Kathryn A. Graham is a licensed private investigator, pilot, aircraft mechanic and handgun instructor in Texas. Also a prolific author, she has written numerous articles, short stories and a science fiction novel entitled Flight From Eden.

America In Denial - Relearning Freedom. If you are an American, you've been told all your life that you live in a free society. So by now you probably even believe it. But you are not free. You have not been free for a long time. All that remains now is to decide what you intend to do about it. ClickMe