"I don't understand," he said. "Doesn't the mine management hire me - "
"We bid and sub-contract here, team by team, just like most of the honest mines do," said John, looking up at him. "You work for the team. I work for the team. The only difference between you and me is I'm leader - I do all the paperwork and make all the decisions. And I get the biggest share."
He got to his feet.
"We're on day shift for the rest of this two-week," he said. "Another pair of three-days. Better set your caller for four-thirty, if you want to make breakfast by five hundred hours and lineup by five-thirty with all your equipment. Come on, I'll show you your place."
He got up from the desk, and led the way out into the hall and down to one of the doors. Opening it, he revealed a room in which everything was neat and ready for occupancy.
"Bunkhouse maintenance takes care of ordinary cleanup," he said. "You make an unusual mess, you settle it with them; whether you clean up yourself, or pay them extra out of your own account. Better settle it yourself, because if they come to me with it, it's going to cost you even more."
Hal nodded. He laid his bag down on the bed. The sheets, he saw, were synthetic fabric knits.
John looked at him. The team leader's dark brown eyes were as bleak as an arctic night; and there was no way to tell if there had ever been any emotion in them or not.
"Better get some sleep," John said. He went out, closing the door behind him.
Hal put his travel bag in the small closet and stretched out on top of the bed's coverings.
He felt in him a desperate need for time to sort out in his own mind what had happened to him. Evidently, the Leader called Will Nanne had gotten word of what had happened at the Holding Area of Halla Station; and if that was so, this world of mines must be an incredible whispering gallery. How could word travel so fast? And why?
He puzzled over it, but found himself drifting off to sleep in spite of the questions in his mind. He was just about lost to slumber when it occurred to him that it might be one of Jennison's sources of income, selling information on the men he assigned to the team leaders at the mines he assigned them to. But Jennison had seemed to want to be on Hal's side, the last time Hal had talked to him - the assignment man had flatly said that he expected them to do some business together in the future. If so, why would he pass on a report that had come very close to costing Hal the job he, Jennison, had assigned him to?
Sost had said that if Hal was not hired, he would be sent back to the nearest Holding Area to be processed again. In this case, would the Holding Area have been Halla Station again? And if so, could Jennison have set the whole thing up to impress Hal with his power to produce or withhold good jobs?
Hal was dropping into sleep with this question, too, unanswered, when a knock at the door jarred him into instant, wary wakefulness.
"Thornhill?" said a woman's voice through the panel. "You in there? Can I come in?"
He got up and opened the door. Tonina Wayle was standing outside; and as if she assumed that the opened door was an invitation, she walked in, closed it firmly behind her and sat on the float closest to his bed.
"Thought I'd say a word or two to you," she said.
She stared at him, almost the way John had, for a second without saying anything more. Then she spoke again.
"You're from Old Earth, aren't you?"
"You can tell?" he said. She laughed, surprising him; for the laugh was not unkindly.
"I can guess - now," she said. "Maybe a lot of the others couldn't. Give you another two weeks here and nobody'll be able to guess."
She sobered, suddenly.
"You've never been in a mine before, have you?" she asked.
"No."
"Well, you're not starting too badly. John Heikkila's one of the best. I'm on Beson McSweeney's team now, so I won't say anything one way or another between them; but you can be proud of being on John's."
"That story," said Hal, "of what I did to that man who jumped me down at the Holding Area - it was an accident he got hurt, actually. I told Heikkila - John - that, but I don't know if he believed me."
"If it's the truth, he'll end up believing it," said Tonina. She ran her eyes over him. "I don't find it too easy to believe, myself. How - "
"I'm twenty," said Hal, quickly. "I just look young for my age."
Tonina shrugged.
"Well, as I say, you'll get a fair shake from John. He wants production, but so does any other Leader," she said. "Did he tell you what you'd be doing?"
"No," said Hal.
"I thought not," she said. "There's none better, but he's been in the mines so long he forgets there're people who don't know. Well, he won't expect much of you your first shift tomorrow, anyway, so there's no need to worry."
"What do I do?"
"You'll be mucking out behind the men with torches," she said. "They'll be cutting ore from the rockface, and it'll be up to you to get what they cut out sorted and back into the carts."
She paused and looked at him.
"You don't even follow that much, do you?" she said. "When you and your team go down into the mine, the skip'll take you to the level your team's working on. After you leave the skip you'll ride the carts - they're like a train without tracks to run on, a train with cars that look like open metal bins. They'll each carry two men at once. You'll ride the carts back through the levels - tunnels to you - until you come to the end of the one where your team's bid to work on a section of the vein. The vein's the way the ore with the metal in it runs through the rock. It never runs level, so you're nearly always working on what's called a stope, that's sort of like a step up or a step down to get at the ore, and you cut out what's there until you have to go on and make another stope."
He nodded, fascinated.
"But what's 'mucking out'?" he asked.
"The top men in the team'll be carving rock - working ahead in the stope with laser torches - "
She laughed at the look on his face.
"Yes, real laser torches, right out of three hundred years ago. Here on Coby's the only place on all the worlds where miners cost less than equipment; and a laser's the only safe type of torch for anyone to use for cutting. You'll be behind the top men, gathering up the ore they've cut out of the rock. Just be damn sure you do two things. Keep the gloves of your suit on, no matter how you sweat inside your suit. You start handling a rock barehanded and get burned, you'll know it. And be God damn sure you don't take your helmet off, ever!"
Her last word came with a vehemence that startled him.
"All right," he said. "I won't."
"You'll see the lead people, and maybe some of the others, throwing their helmets back from time to time. But don't you do it. They know when it's safe, because they know what they've just been cutting. You don't. I don't care how miserable it gets inside that headpiece, you keep it on. Otherwise you'll see them take theirs off, you'll take yours off, and then all of a sudden they've got theirs back on; but by then it's too late for you. You'll've inhaled some of the hot gases the torches boil out when they cut the rock; and it's too late."
"I see," said Hal.
"You better." She got to her feet. "Well, I've got to turn in myself. We work a twenty-hour day here, three days on, three days off; and on a three-day stint you better learn to sleep any time you can. You can catch up on your threes-off. I guess John'll keep an eye on you, this first day at least, about taking off your helmet. But nobody can watch you all the time; so you better get in the habit of taking care of yourself."
She went toward the door. Hal stood up.
"Wait - " he said. All his resolution about being taciturn and reserved had slipped away from him. She had been the first person to show anything like kindness to him at this mine, and he felt he could not let her go without knowing her better. "Uh - you used to work at this mine before, John Heikkila said."