All That Glitters Ch. 00 - Prologue

"Amputate?" he gurgled, panic beginning to set in.

"Don't worry. I'm Dr. Xavier Margo, one of the surgeons on the station. The amputation was necessary to save your life. But we made sure to seed the area for medical regrowth. You will be sent to an inner planet for medical care and rehab. It will take at least eighteen months. You will be paid until you are declared fit.

"You will have two options: medically-induced regrowth on your body, or having legs grown and grafted to you after. Both have their merits and they will be explained to you once you have arrived at the medical facility you will be receiving care at. I'm sorry, our options were limited once we got to you. This was the best solution to help you move forward. But it will take you out of space for the next little while. HR will be here later to explain everything. We will keep you in the ICU for up to a week. I can't tell you when the next supply run will be, HR should be able to fill you in on that later today. Rest for now. If you need anything, press the call button. Someone will be in immediately if they are not already here. Good luck Sean."

Sean watched as Dr Margo slipped out the door, which was immediately filled by the shape of another medical person. This one male. Oh well, he thought. Such was his luck. The nurse quickly took his vitals and poked him in various ways before once again sliding out the door. Sean looked out the window to see several medical staff at the central station in the ICU. He heard a beep to his left and just had time to realize that he was hooked up to a med dispenser before sleep overtook him.

LMC-23 Central Ops

Fiona Marsh sat behind the wooden façade of her desk going through the daily notices, sifting through the daily chaff and minutia of the mining platform she oversaw. From her office, she could overlook the main operations area of Liramor-23. She could also look directly out of the large plasteel windows to see eight of the fourteen working 'cages', the giant work areas wherein the actual work of mining for precious ores took place. The other six were viewable from the large displays set at random locations around the Central Ops Center.

Currently, all the cages but one, were occupied with rocks ranging from half a kilometer in size, to some more than three km in length. From this range, the workers flitting around the rocks could not be seen but for the occasional flares of light as they chewed through the large rocks.

Not that the miners actually did any work on the rocks themselves, more monitoring the bots. While the bots where amazingly intelligent where their work was concerned, they were amazingly stupid where their self-preservation was concerned, fixated more on the work than their surroundings. This meant that direct supervision was a necessity, thus requiring miners in EVA suits attending them. Normally one attendant for every four bots, but this was being fudged lately due to the flu on station. Breaking protocols meant to keep people safe was what had led to the Murphy incident, as it was being referred to on station. Fortunately, the miner would live, giving the station seniors a real time reminder of why the safety protocols were in place. She dreaded the weekly report that would be sent to LMC HQ for their review. But she was certain they would back her on her decision. It was the most practical plan considering the circumstances.

The bots themselves determined the best way to break up the rocks to get the highest ore grades and then sent the selected pieces station ward in ore hoppers for processing. The attendants repositioned the bots in accordance with suggestions from the bots AI units, direction from station, and the attendants own experience. The system was less cumbersome than it appeared and worked fairly smoothly. A large rock several kilometers in length could be broken up and mined well within the space of three months.

The platform was mining the asteroid belt around the sun of 109 Piscium, approximately 106 light years from Terra. Surveys had indicated that the belt had once actually been a planet that had broken apart for an as yet undetermined reason. Most of the rocks they collected had decent amounts of material to mine, but occasionally, they found a core piece. Core pieces were heavy in metals and minerals making them well worth the cost of mining them. A large rock several kilometers in size could be worth several hundred million credits or more. A core piece one kilometer in size would be worth the same.

A brunette from Liramor-4, also known as Liramor Prime, Fiona Marsh was a first-generation spacefarer. She had shown an aptitude for administration early and had been picked up by Liramor Mining Company management as a rising star. Her height at 182cm and her good looks hadn't hurt. She'd worked hard and found she liked the work. And management liked her.

Fiona was thirty-four and the youngest person ever, other than family, to have received the directorship of a Liramor platform. She was currently just into her fourth year of a five-year contract as station director. Her assistant director, David Latten, had just left for the Liramor system and headquarters thirty light years from Terra. He would be gone for most of the year for training, taking over from her on his return to the platform.

As she worked, she listened to the low-level background chatter of communications. Her thoughts were briefly interrupted by the Comms signal of Rockhound One-Four-Nine requesting berthing for a large rock, her interest piqued by the reported size of the piece. Flicking a switch, she turned up the volume to listen.

"Ops to Romeo Hotel One-Four-Nine: Say again the size of the rock. Over."

"One-Four-Nine: Spherical obolid five point five kilometers by three kilometers. Over."

"Ops: Stand by for designated parking location. Distance and speed to station. Over."

"149: Currently 300km out in quadrant A12, with quad Foxtrot-type pulsars fore and aft and double Charlie-type pulsars at primary points around the waist. Current speed is 150m/s slowing to five m/s at fifty kilometers, pulsing at 170 kilo newtons per second per engine. Should take an hour to slow to that speed. Over."

Fiona noted that one of the displays was moving to lock onto the incoming rock. At 300km distance, it wasn't visible without magnification. The view jumped twice to show a closer inspection of the rock moving at speed toward the station. F\The flares of the forward quad array briefly blacked out the center of the screen before the cameras adjusted.

Fiona stepped out of her office into Ops. "Mister Fent, what do we know of this rock?" she asked of SOps.

"Ma'am, 149 has indicated he has part of the outer core. He is listing the rock as igneous ferrous material with high grade sprinklings of rare earth minerals and veins of precious metals principally gold, platinum and cadmium. 149 is a Rockhound piloted alone by Raymond Clark. His history is at post five mam."

Fiona remembered the name but slipped over to post five and looked at the information. Raymond Clark was a Military Combat Engineer veteran of the Terran Unification Wars. He had been with Liramor-23 for almost ten years now. He piloted a personally rebuilt and heavily modified Rockhound, normally a two-man ship, alone. So far, he had thirty-two rocks to his credit. He had always brought in high grade rocks and his estimations of the material usually fell within ten percent of the actual survey conducted by the platform.

That piqued her interest and she immediately called up his estimations on the current rock.

Holly shit!! Fiona thought. "Mister Fent, send out three surveyor probes to the fifty-kilometer mark immediately, I want confirmation on the quality of that rock. If it comes even close to what 149 is estimating, then we dump what is left of the material in cage three immediately."

"The claim holders of that rock won't be happy if we dump it ma'am."

"Acknowledged, Mister Fent, but there is really only what, another 300,000 credits that can possibly be worked from that rock and not without a great deal of work on the platform's part, which means we won't recuperate our expenses on what's left of that piece. If we get confirmation on the new rock being anywhere near what 149 suggests, we are looking at a multi-billion credit rock here. The existing claim holders can go through normal procedures to complain, or do the ore processing themselves."

"Probes ready for launch, Rich." Came the voice of John Smythe, the Ops Watch Officer.

"Thanks, John. We'll launch them in thirty minutes," Markham replied.

Fiona went back to her office, but she could not concentrate on her work. Eventually, she drifted back to the Ops Center.

The rock, now designated A-17835-9 after the claim number, and being the ninth rock under that number, was less than 100km out when the probes were launched. The probes arrived at the fifty kilometer mark the same time as the rock, which had slowed down to five meters per second and was now coasting toward the platform at that speed.

Banter around the room indicated that the rock was on a half degree separation, meaning it would not slam into the platform or any of the cages. Not surprising, the records showed that Clark was an old hand at this.

"Ma'am, the probes are confirming the information from 149. Igneous ferrous material in heavy concentrations, sprinkled liberally with rare earth and semi-precious minerals. There are at least three veins of gold, another two of platinum and indications of veins of for now unidentified material further under the surface. From the size of the rock, just the ferrous minerals alone will make this a multi-billion credit rock - somewhere in the twenty to twenty-five billion credit range. The other materials will only add to it the totals. We're probably looking at somewhere between twenty-five to forty billion credits in addition to the ferrous minerals. That is of course, just a rough estimate ma'am. We still have to determine rock density," the Watch Officer intoned in a somewhat hushed voice.

Shit!! Fiona thought. That was normally a year's worth of work for the platform. The size of the rock would mean they would be mining it for a minimum of four months, well into the next quarter.

"Rich, get a hold of the claim holders of the rock in cage three. Let them know what is happening. Tell them we can move what's left of their rock to cage eight and give them six pieces of equipment of their choice to further mine their rock, but they pay for the rent on the equipment. Let them know that we will not break protocol on the processing work, meaning no one works on their own claim, so they pay the rent whether they like it or not. Give them our assessment of the remaining value, though I suspect they are already aware of that. I want an answer from them in twenty minutes or I dump their rock into space."

"Yes, ma'am."

Liramor-23 Crew Quarters

Liea Samson woke, as she usually did, before her alarm went off. She was momentarily confused until she remembered the party the night before and going to someone else's cabin. Well cubicle, actually. Liea had a cabin. This was nothing more than a bed, at least it was a comfortable size, and storage space. It did not even have a window view.

She looked over at the man she had spent the night with. Steve, she remembered. He, and several of his friends, had just had their first-year party. A milestone on the platform. Most injuries and deaths occurred to miners with less than a year's service.

There were so many ways a miner in EVA could be injured or killed:

Pieces separated from the rocks could crush people or machines between them.

Mining bots could impact a miner, even though they were designed to avoid doing so. Shit happened out there:

Momentary lapses of concentration could result in fluctuations of suit gases that could lead to too much or too little oxygen, or other gases, with serious repercussions including death.

Suit punctures could empty a suit of life saving gases in minutes, unless a miner or their workmates could get a patch on it.

The powerful lights that illuminated the work in the cages could temporarily or permanently blind a miner who didn't take care of where they were looking.

Space mining was a dangerous and sometimes very deadly trade. So, hitting the first-year milestone meant that you had learned how to survive and would likely survive to the end of your term - typically three to five years unless you bought out your remaining time. Which few miners did.

Liea noted that he had not set his alarm. Then she remembered that those the party had been designated for had this shift off. But not her. With a soft groan, she rolled out of the bed and retrieved her jumpsuit. Dressing quickly, she slipped quietly out of the room and headed for her own somewhat nicer cabin.

The door opened on the cabin that she had earned from the profits of her own claims. It was larger than Steve's cabin, and had a queen-sized bed rather than a double. It also had a real view port. She could look out onto some of the mining cages as well as having a view of the large blue-green Jovian planet not far away, as planetary distances went.

She stripped out of her jumpsuit and stepped into the sonic shower. Water showers were a rare treat that she gave herself when a new rock from her claim came in. Like many of the workers on the platform, she had a given stake in several ore survey ships and Rockhounds in the hopes that they would find some suitable rocks for mining. Most of the rocks had been OK pieces, providing her with an additional income that was swiftly padding her retirement fund. But none of them had yet given her anything of real note. There was always the hope, of course, of striking it rich and finding a piece of core rock. It was a miner's dream to find a piece of core.

The shower turned off and she slipped into her working undergarments. These were tight fitting and absorbent clothes that had pipes running through them to carry either cold or hot water to help regulate body heat while working in space. She looked at herself in the room's full-length mirror, noting that her reddish-blonde hair would need a cut soon. Green eyes smiled back at her. They always seemed to twinkle with mirth, even for her.

She had the long, lean body the of multi-generational space families. Overall, she was pleased with her definitely feminine shape. She slipped into a clean jumpsuit and soft deck shoes. Deck shoes had magnets that could be retracted when in a gravity environment or lowered when needed if the gravity cut out. Every experienced spacer wore them. Dressed, she left for breakfast.

The cafeteria was abuzz about the latest rock that had come in. Scuttlebutt had it as a piece of core, but most of the talk was over the size of the rock. She looked over at the monitors and noted the rock in cage three, momentarily stunned by its size. Cage three was the largest of the cages and the rock completely filled it, sticking out either end of the cage and nearly touching it at its midpoint.

Finished with breakfast, she moved to her rack. She found her mining suit and stepped up onto the small dais. She backed herself into the suit and began the process of plugging herself into it, attaching upper body points to her wrist, neck and waist while a technician worked on attaching her hips, knees and ankles. She had just finished buckling in and was preparing to close the outer shell when she was interrupted by call from the shift supervisor.

"Golf-One Two Seven this is Supervisor Three: What in hell are you doing One-Two-Seven? Over."

"Super Three, One-Two-Seven: I don't understand the question? I am assigned this shift for work in cage three starting in fifteen minutes. Over"

"Super Three: Check out the claim number 127. Platform protocols dictate that you cannot work on your own claim. Disembark and come to Ops Three now. Out." Came the curt reply.

Liea looked over at the monitor and noted the claim number, A-17835-9. Her claim!! That giant rock was her claim!!

She quickly disconnected from the suit and headed over to the Ops Three, the operations center dedicated to cage three. "Mark, why the hell wasn't I informed of this earlier?" she snapped as soon as she entered Ops.

"Stow it Samson." He snapped back. "The claim number was clearly posted and was the first thing you should have had to sign off on when suiting up. Unless of course you cut corners?"

Liea bit off her immediate rebuttal as she knew she would have to explain not properly filing work permits before exiting into space.

"The rock is yours courtesy of your rather lucky partner Raymond Clark. Your assignment has been given to someone else, but I can use you at an ops station so that you don't lose any wages. No hazard pay as you are on station. You want that?"

"I'll take it. Where do you want me?"

"Sit monitor two for now. That will give you an idea of what the rock is shaping up to be."

Liea sat and began watching the input returning from the different surveyor probes within the cage. The probes were moving along the left upper face of the first square km of the rock. There were six probes on her monitor. Two were class A seismic surveyors with contact pulse plates that sent seismic 'noise' into the rock as the plates contacted the surface getting a detailed scan up to ½ km into the rock. Two were drillers that pushed 10cm coring probes into the rock, returning cores for the labs. And two assay probes, which did spot checks around the surface to determine the minerals available, rock density and other factors.

The information that was coming back from the probes was looking far too good to be true. She looked over at the other monitoring stations and asked for feedback from them. All twelve stations were in use, which meant that seventy-two probes were in use if all of them had the full compliment attached to them. There were only one hundred and twelve survey probes on the platform, and up to twenty of them at a time were down for maintenance, which meant that almost all of the probes available were assigned to the assessment of this rock.

Mark slipped over to her station. "Impressive isn't it?" he asked.

"Mark, do we have a full complement of probes here?" She asked in return.

"Yep, seventy-two out of the ninety-two probes available are assigned to this cage." He answered.

As they spoke, one of the probes indicated that a large seam of nearly pure gold had been found. The seam ran off the end of the probes range at over 100m and was more that two meters thick at some locations. Rough estimates placed the contents of this portion of the seam alone at more than 240 million credits. At five percent, this alone gave her and her partner more than twelve million credits. With a sixty/forty split, sixty going to Raymond, she would get four point eight million credits. And the estimates just kept growing.

She looked at Mark noting the surprise on his face. They both knew what was happening. This was the one-in-a-million rock that made history. She was rich, and getting richer by the minute as more and more data came in.

The door to Ops Three opened and a woman in a brown jumpsuit with the station logo on her right breast vice on her arm, stood there. Liea recognized her immediately. She was one of the 'runners' of the station, the people employed by station management to run and do all of the dirty work of passing on orders that were too important to be relayed by coms. Usually they were bad news. Everyone in the Ops Three came to a brief stop as they noted the woman.

"Liea Samson?" the runner inquired.