I moved my feet in closer, gasping for breath, and gathered myself together. I gave another enormous heave, praying that nothing would pop in my back. But it wasn’t my back that gave way—it was the ceiling to one side of the beam. Dirt cascaded down, and the only reason it didn’t kill me was because my head was on the other side of the beam. Men yelled and scrambled away from the pile of dirt, but when it stopped, Hans scrambled up it and peered upwards.
“Light!” he yelled. “I see light up there!!”
I risked losing control of the beam, and turned so my head was on the other side, almost breaking my neck in the process. It was true. Twenty or thirty feet above, I could make out a dim pool of light. It must have been from torches in the zigzag tunnel above us. Some of its floor had given way, and left a narrow, irregular tunnel up to it.
And then I knew what I could do to help the working men of the world.
I met Hans’s eye, and gestured upward with my head. “Go!” I barked. “Stand on my shoulder! Climb up!” I gestured at the others. “All of you! Go!”
Hans looked wild. “But how will you—”
“Come back for me!” I roared. “Go!”
He nodded quickly, and scrambled up the dirt pile that was spilling around my legs. He put one of his miner’s boots on my shoulder, and pushed up. Dirt showered around me, matting my hair and clogging my throat as he scrambled upward. The others were right behind him, clamoring for their turn. I wasn’t sure if they’d be able to claw their way up to the other tunnel, but one by one they disappeared.
Leaving me alone.
The beam pressed down hard on my shoulder. I looked up at the tunnel, now partially obscured by the frantic scrabblings of twenty men. I heard their shouts fade away as they dashed for the surface, and I was left in silence. I knew that if I let the beam go and made a break for it, I wouldn’t get six inches. Everything would collapse on me, crushing me instantly.
Next to my ear, the beam creaked evilly, and I pushed harder against it. There was a slight trickling sound from the dirt that was coming into the chamber. And there was the rasping sound of my breath as I tried to keep the beam up.
Nothing else.
I remembered my video belt. It was still recording, both video and audio.
“I’m John Andropolis,” I gasped, my voice filling the empty chamber. “I’m alone here at the bottom of the mine. I’ve just saved twenty miners from a cave-in. They’re coming back to save me, but I don’t know if they’ll get back in time.
“You may look at this video and remark how much better things are than they were in 1880. You may even conclude that things are so much better, we don’t need unions any more.” I shifted my feet to keep a firm footing in the drifting dirt. “Well, maybe you’re right. For the first time, I understand why I’ve had no success battling against the anti-union movement. It’s because people don’t think they need unions any more.” The dirt was flowing faster, and I was struggling to keep my feet. “So I guess if union membership goes down to zero, that wouldn’t be so bad. But voting to outlaw unions would be a disaster. Because I firmly believe that it’s the threat of unionization that makes some companies keep working conditions so good. And if that threat goes away, some of you may someday find yourselves in a place like this.” I fumbled for the fingertip switch inside my belt that would transfer all of my data back to my time. “That’s all I have to say. Sara, I love you.”
Hans Deckert was at the head of the pack that was charging back down the mine tunnel, staggering under the weight of a bunch of lumber. We will get down there with him, and we will support the beam with this wood, he thought desperately. And then we will be pulled up by rope held by the rest of these fellows. “Hang on, Big John!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. “We are coming to get you!”
They were halfway to him when the rumble knocked them off their feet.
They held the memorial service the next day in the Lutheran church. Hans Deckert, who knew him as well as anyone, tried to say a few words, but was too overcome with grief to manage much. He broke down completely, and stood with tears streaming down his face until Helga came and led him off the podium.
“He was a good man,” Hans said brokenly. “No matter what he did elsewhere, he was a good man for us. Although he was here for only two weeks or so, he helped us.”
Helga nodded, her eyes filled with tears as well. “If only we knew where to go,” she said sadly. “We could find that girl he loved, and tell her how bravely he died. She would be proud.”
A company official walked up to the podium and announced that the damage to the mine was extensive. “We will not reopen it,” he said. “The ore is of poor quality now, and there is no profit in continuing it. However, we are opening a new mine about ten miles south. There will be jobs for all of you there.”
After the ceremony, a group of men gathered outside. “If the mine is not to reopen, it is a fitting grave for Big John,” one said.
“In that case, we should make a marker for him,” another said.
A third man chimed in. “It must be large. Marble. With a suitable inscription that tells of his name and his prowess.”
Hans nodded vigorously. “Ja, ja! And we must tell his story often. He was a hero, you know. A legend in his own time!”