Corporation

8

From the "Sluice-2" there was a queue of empty ore carriers, so they went on the farthest, either the seventh or the eighth descending. Novak had already forgotten how beautiful it was here. The northern ridge of Cabeus Crater rose majestically from the horizon as the lights of Shackleton's open pits glided below, and the hypertubes linking Shackleton to Haworth gleamed in the sun ahead.

You will not find anything similar on external routes. There, Saul is distant, weak, and in general there is no activity - to look at the flashing light on the distant radar, the entire duty brigade comes running, and, well, tryndet on the air. How are you, traveler? Where are you heading?

In general, this hungry familiarity after returning had to be squeezed out of oneself drop by drop. So that every oncoming outsider at the interchange does not want to clap on the shoulder and ask for chewing gum to get sober after yesterday.

It is more difficult with the inners, the inners are all gloomy and, if not to say that they are evil. Novak talked to one while they were waiting for the ferry, so he answered almost through gritted teeth. Nothing, they say, we’re doing fine, we don’t have bedsores like you. It is not customary to communicate normally here, and even to say that, on external routes, why are people so talkative? Because otherwise you can go crazy with boredom. Even on a continuous cycle of acceleration and deceleration, three months from Matushka to Krasnaya, and then it also happens twice as much. This is if you do not fly to the Pope.

Novak immediately felt the last hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

I didn't want to go to the Pope at all. There, for the time being, only machine guns were nimble, but how long would it take to send people. Ice worlds, terrible radiation, life in a tiny tin can with such thick walls - this is not honey or sugar for you. But it will be beautiful, yes, not like rushing over stones with geological exploration and Clark numbers.

The shuttle decently shook, as if on a swing, up and immediately down again.

Novak just laughed in his beard, watching the green face of the pax from the next capsule out of the corner of his eye. Here you are not here, they are distant for that and distant, that with significant areas of free maneuvering. Just look, don’t throw up, Novak didn’t want to watch the vomited liner for an hour until the very landing.

And most importantly, strange people, well, if it’s not yours, then stay on Mother, don’t get in the way of the pros underfoot. Since the launch of Gateway-2, that is, about three years ago, there have been a lot of vagrant people in the halo orbit, which in the old days would never have been allowed into a low near-Earth one.

However, Novak had to agree here, if Lunar Technics had adhered to the old Artemis program from the moment of its foundation, everyone would still huddle in three domes, looking enviously at the Von Karman crater, as the Hans were completing the eleventh shell Chang'e hospital. To catch up with them, a strong-willed decision and a cloud of working hands were needed. And if so, then you can’t do without green-faced husks, even if they puke all over Muna.

Meanwhile, the shuttle had already successfully turned belly up and began to slow down slowly, entering the ballistic one. Now the surface glided through the darkened porthole only in the form of a contrasting relief of small craters, barely protruding their edges from the shadow of the northern ridge.

The sad but inevitable fact was that most of the places inhabited by people on the Muna were still located on the surface, almost not illuminated by the sun's rays. Yes, it’s cold, but at least there is water here, and Mun still has big problems with it, no matter how much you bring it in. Not like on Krasnaya, where the regolith below a couple of tens of meters is almost completely permeated with ice druse, not to mention Ceres, which, consider, consists entirely of water, scoop it up with a ladle, if you first remove any rubbish from it and melt it. Muna is completely dry compared to it - cleaner than the Gobi Desert on Mother.

The Han, however, got the hang of solving problems with water by drilling deep under the surface, which is why they are building their mega-telescope not at the south pole, but much closer to the equator. It's okay, we'll survive, we're not bad in Cabeus either.

The main thing is to do your job, as they say, quickly and quickly.

The shuttle seemed to obey the command, falling stern towards the landing site that was still indistinguishable from here, from a height of five kilometers.

The neighbor turned even more green-faced, clutching the handrails with crooked fingers, but still holding on. Well, well done, in the end, what to be ashamed of, the one who does not fly does not vomit.

Outside the porthole flashed standing upright flaky cigars of snow-white moon Starships, which had served their purpose for that year - all six pieces, they will not be going to dismantle them in any way - in order to immediately disappear beyond the edge of the landing tunnel. The regolith dust from marchers on braking in recent years has been so annoying for the maintenance personnel of the domes that the landing sites were eventually buried in thirty-meter wells. Now, after landing, the shuttles proudly did not show off in the rays of Sol, it was a pity, it was a majestic spectacle.

The ferry finally swayed on its supports and immediately, to the heavy sounds of hydraulics, began to change its position from vertical to horizontal. How's the neighbor? Holding on. Novak winked at him reassuringly and began to unfasten himself.

The Cabinsuit promptly closed the visor in a businesslike manner, isolating Novak until his immune status was ascertained. Novak has already forgotten how strict everything is here. Interestingly, if his neighbor gets his suit dirty, so to speak, from the outside, what will they do with it? Probably, along with boxing they will be taken, dear.

At the exit to the gangway, as always, the crush and crush, the momentum goes on, nothing changes. Novak grunted under his breath, out of sin raised the pressure container higher above his head - they still remember what good - and began, deftly wielding his elbows, making his way forward.

There was a lot of litigation here at the entrance, and the truth was a lot. Mother again was weird in the sense of epidemiology, almost all the arrivals were straight from there, so the administrators of Lunar Technics were in a hurry to play it safe again.

Only when Novak managed to make out with the help of augmentation the virtual signs “arrived from external tracks” flickering under the ceiling, things went faster. Barking a couple of times with his signature “pa-astarani”, he safely ended up on a relatively free patch, where the same tall people toiled like him. In general, a frequenter of external routes is easy to recognize from the side by an elongated organization of the carcass with a thin and, as it were, generally elongated body and limbs. Not that in a couple of years of winding the Sol system back and forth, changes in the skeleton and muscles were so noticeable, but an experienced eye immediately marked its own.

- Hey Ya.

— Doro.

Even outsiders of something today are not talkative, buried themselves in their virtual panels and do not even look around. Well, okay. A dog ran up to Novak and did his usual welcome dance. Nicely. The hermetic container was firmly rooted to her back and immediately rushed off somewhere into the depths of the customs complex. Empty is not empty, but it needs to be checked. Damn bureaucrats.

Novak's turn did not come right away, he had already begun to languish. Everyday boredom on long external routes was a common problem, but here's how to waste time so mediocrely after arrival ...

“Next, please.

Of course, there was no one behind the glass, only the stock ghost mechanically portrayed friendliness. Novak didn't talk to the machine, he just silently allowed his wristband to be scanned.

— Leo Novak, 3-16-145-6-2, indefinite contract with Grupo Carso on external routes without the right to fly to Mars, is that right?

- Yes.

“I see that your immune map has been successfully updated on Gateway 2, but we do not recommend that you make direct contact with outsiders for another 72 hours. In addition, the administration has declared a state of emergency until further notice. You must follow any recommendations and prohibitions that will be broadcast to you in a personal channel. Do you understand these restrictions, Leo Novak, sir?

What kind of "sir" am I to you, Novak was indignant, but out loud he only coldly minted:

— Yes, understandable.

“Happy stay in Cabeus Crater!”

Only this nonsense was not enough for him. Novak frowned as he looked at the dog with his pressurized container and made a follow gesture with his hand. I don’t care that the dog is customs, nothing, then she will return later. What the hell are they up to with the state of emergency. In his memory, this happened only once, when a leaky shuttle of the previous generation blew a filling farm at the start, but that was when, in the first year of Novak’s contract, then not yet with Grupo Carso, but with bregsites, so that they were empty. What happened this time?

However, life around seemed to be in full swing as usual, except that people in cabin suits roam more than usual. However, for those who are only from Mother, it is more convenient, gravity presses closer to the floor. These, who, out of habit, depict bloody kangaroos, can be seen from a hundred meters away from a wobbly, uncomfortable setting. But Novak, like all the tall ones, was only hindered by the heaviness in his legs. On the outer slopes, until now, we spent almost all the time with microgravity, and otherwise we went with low thrust, so you like it or not, but you get used to some lightness in the whole body.

Novak peered at the onboard time dial of Cabeus Crater, which flickered in the upper left corner of his vision. In fact, even faster than the plan with priming managed. Before the meeting, he had four hours left, recommendations with recommendations, and if they put him in a cabinet, then let there be at least some benefit in this.

Reaching the dome with the name "Hospitality", Novak grimaced once again at how unprepossessing it was built. What to do, the second in order of construction, additive technologies developed for denser regolith, gave up here, the whole structure was so lopsided that it almost collapsed in the twenty-ninth, it had to be urgently strengthened from the inside with monothread reinforcement, in general, everything has looked since then , well, how to say, a concrete barracks. No wonder they settled here like Novak, seasonal travelers between flights. Moon residents have long chosen the Endeavor dome, brand new, brand new, it’s a pity to spit, so as not to stain the cleanliness of the walls. Immediately ... Novak pointed to the dog where to unload the luggage, after which he let go, and already then left the room, sealing the hatch with his wristband. It's funny, a crowd of people at customs, and single rooms are available. Well, "numbers", nooks and crannies two by two with a vibration shower and a folding bunk.

Actually, the choice of how to spend the remaining time was small - in a bar or in a tavern. It was possible, of course, to search through the networks for some old friend from external routes, and already with him, respectively, to a bar or a tavern, but such an event would definitely not be exhausted in four hours, and sobriety of mind was still desirable before save the meeting, because the decision was obvious. A quarter of an hour later, the travolator delivered Novak to the place.

The place was called "Pigpen". Well, that is, formally, in the Lunar Technics registries it was not called in any way, “food unit number 14”, but the dude who had been in charge here from the very opening let everything go by itself with such enthusiasm that the food unit quickly turned into a pigsty. Hence the name. They poured everything that burned here, and drank everything that was drunk. The food was complete crap. But Novak didn't need food now.

- Hey Ya.

And there are not many people here today. The bartender (well, or whatever else you call an outlaw tattooed on the eyebrow, poking a dirty finger at the dispenser screen for the visitor, the voice menu never worked here, in general, let it be a bartender) silently put a repeatedly used coaster with the Lunar Technics logo worn out in front of Novak and He looked expectantly, saying, what kind of wine does Monsieur prefer in this phase of the Moon?

Novak preferred two fingers of single malt he rocks.

The bartender changed the curve of his mouth to a slightly more friendly one, rarely here someone drinks drinks from Matushka, and not the traditional moonshine that smoked when it hit the organic matter, and as an exception, he even poured it himself. And although yes, it’s probably smuggling, you won’t miss this through the distributor.

Novak lifted his glass an inch in return, politely, and only then began fiddling with the cabinetsuit, threading a silver tube through the valves. In general, by the time he did it, the ice had already melted, and the effect of the long-awaited sip was not the same.

Heck. This is how you dangle hundreds of gigameters one way, and you can’t even spend what you earn later with a feeling.

However, notes of pear and whatever, prunes. The bartender did not disappoint. Naturel.

- What are we celebrating?

The intonation sounded unpleasant, because Novak did not even begin to react, although they were clearly addressing him, the wristband vibrated.

The second sip went better, the soft, cool single malt warmth going down the esophagus in a way that damned microgravity doesn't.

- I'm asking you, asshole. What are we celebrating?

The bartender silently squinted, saying, if anything, I'll instantly.

Novak just shook his head. Yes, we ourselves with miracles.

- Not noticeable? Return.

And only then did he turn around with his whole body, setting aside the glass.

Towering above him, swaying, was the same green-faced pax. Wow, what a coincidence.

“You should take it too, land, if it’s already skidded here,” Novak grunted, already missing what was left on the counter. “I don’t know what kind of fly bit you, but during the descent you didn’t make any noise.

- You're funny, right? Are you going far from Mother yourself? Do you think you are well settled and burn everything with fire?

“Hey, bro, calm down, or I’ll kick you out of here, darling?”

It was the nasal bartender who came from behind.

“Wait, the earth has a claim on me. Let's clarify, no question, I have plenty of time for that.

The bartender muttered under his breath something like “just start breaking furniture for me here” and went back to his corner to continue sticking into the virtual panel. Well done.

Zemelya was still puffing up, trying to regain his breath behind a sweaty visor. Finally, a matter of half a minute later, he finally succeeded:

"Do you care what's going on down here?"

- Us? Okay, let's take a look. So tell me, are you worried about the dose that the guys will receive by stuffing here, on the Moon, for you, for Mother, another canister of trihelium?

“Wh-what other dose…?”

- Radioactive. The biological equivalent of an x-ray. In millibers, if by weight. You are generally aware that trihelium is phonite itself, and for some reason comes from regolith exclusively in half with radon. And the guys on the harvesters, for the whole shift, sit right at the very bottom, through the wall from the tank, that is, about ten centimeters, are you worried about their problems?

- And you, the tall one, you might think, are worried?

“And I don’t care,” Novak agreed easily, turning to the bar and slapping his glove on the seat next to him. - Yes, you do not loom, sit down, drink something, my advice to you, you will immediately feel better. Well I saw how you rinsed.

Wow, he obeyed, sat down, cooling down.

“I don’t understand you outsiders. You make that face all the time, like you're like an elite here, and you don't give a shit about everyone else.

— It's you in vain, we can be said to be the most gentle and sociable people in the entire Sol system. Whoever you want, get out, ask the bartender, everyone will confirm you. And what a face we are building, so excuse me, how else was it to look at your tricks on the ferry? I used to be like that myself, that's why it's funny. Do not laugh at me with you in a voice, here you make your face stricter, you look, and let it go.

- This is not a reason to be so indifferent to other people's troubles.

- Agree. But I think so. There the bartender works here, I, too, can be said to be on a business trip, you, I suppose, did not come to Muna for entertainment. Everyone works to the best of their ability, everyone has a contract, their own task, their own problems. If you don’t want to, don’t take it, but why whine? Pay attention, well, they declared a state of emergency over Cabeus, and what? No one runs, no one tears their hair. When the fifth dome was torn by the devils, did someone cry on Mun, did they enter? They gathered, caught the shaitans, restored the dome, scraped off the dead from the walls, packed them and sent them to Mother. Or when it was decided down there to break up SpaceX, corporate monopoly, they say, although there was SpaceX, it became Marchian Technics and Lunar Technics, what's the difference, someone whined? No, everyone did their job, each in his own place. Or changed the contract. Why is everything wrong on Matushka, that everyone there is constantly whining?