Rachel Yan (11) | STAFF REPORTER
The end of the pickaxe struck something heavy and metallic with a loud clang. William bent to rummage through the layer of dirt. His hand closed around a lumpy piece of sediment, and he drew it out of the dust.
It was a black rock, dark as obsidian but with a navy blue lustre. After inspecting the colour closely, he placed it in his sack, where it bumped against the other ores.
William continued his digging. His arms – his whole body – were aching from hours of mining. Around him, there were dozens of other people toiling away at the sides of the mile-wide crater in the ground. A few minutes later, he heard Arnold approach, passing by his mining site on his way to dinner.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi Arnold.” Out of instinct, William subtly shifted the sack a little closer to him. Even though the ores wouldn’t be his to take anyway. He would hand them in to the directors of this digging site; he would only be finished his term and given the full rations of ores once he fulfilled his quota. That was the price of being allowed access to one of the most abundant dig sites in the area. It was a barely maintained system that somehow still worked amid the wilderness of roving bands of robbers and thieves.
Arnold paused beside him. “Wanna have dinner with me and Jim and Janet?”
“Uh…” He hefted his pickaxe. “I’m thinking of working later tonight. Might be able to fill quota in a few weeks.”
Arnold glanced cautiously around them. “If you come with us, you won’t have to worry about quota.” He edged closer.
William paused. “Arnold, you better not be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”
“Oh, come on!” He hissed at him quietly. “Do you really think you’re ever going to actually get to quota? We’re the oldest members here currently, and the last ones to be granted their rations was months ago. Their daily posts are fake. Have you ever actually seen them weigh your ores? Janet swears she saw them rig the scales.”
He turned away. “Do you really think I don’t already know that? What do you want to do about it?”
“Get our own ores. We know where the stockpile is.”
“Are you crazy?” William shook his head. “Do you know what the penalty for that is?”
“You mean the execution that may happen anyway?” Arnold glared at him. “What happens to the members who are granted their rations anyway? Do they really end up going to the city?”
“Quiet down.” He gestured at the people nearby.
“Why would the directors give out their ore supply?” He whispered furiously. “They probably just pretend to let them go to the city, then quietly off them when they’re out of sight.”
“You don’t know that.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen Raine?” Arnold demanded. “Hope she’s having fun, out on New Earth by herself. I wouldn’t blame her if she’s left you by now.”
William said nothing.
He sighed. “Just think about it. Meet at the clearing, midnight, if you decide to come with.” He walked away.
When was the last time he’d seen Raine? William remembered their parting a year ago. They had arrived at the city with enough ores to pay for passage to New Earth for two people. That was before they were robbed.
Like amateurs, they’d simply kept their ores in their bags. One snatch and half of all they’d saved – the only currency worth anything in this new world – was gone. Raine had wanted to wait for him, but William convinced her to go ahead and wait for him.
Outside, he’d watched the portal flash above the embassy building as passengers were sent through one by one. It glowed dark blue, the same colour as the ores powering it, opening and closing like a gaping hole in the sky. He couldn’t see the passengers; he had no idea when Raine went through.
William continued working. Evening came. He glanced towards the clearing across the crater and thought about what Arnold had said. About Raine waiting for him alone on New Earth.
He gazed out at the setting sun, spilling molten orange over the horizon. The city was miles away, but his true destination was even further. “Wait for me,” he whispered. “I’m on my way.”
