{"id":2287,"date":"2021-08-21T15:01:49","date_gmt":"2021-08-21T22:01:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2287"},"modified":"2021-08-22T07:55:34","modified_gmt":"2021-08-22T14:55:34","slug":"core","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2021\/08\/21\/core\/","title":{"rendered":"Core"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write a story about a team tunneling down into the centre of a planet.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis isn\u2019t science, you know, it\u2019s a pissing contest.\u201d Garvey gulped down the cold, bitter coffee, dribbling some into his orange beard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA contest between whom?\u201d Sarah asked, her RP accent, clear, pale pinkish skin, short dark brown hair, and bright green eyes out of place amid the roughneck miners.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCutter and Frontier Fields,\u201d Garvey answered, wiping his beard. His thinning ginger hair topped a permanently flushed face, heavily lined by weather and hard work. \u201cWhichever one wins gets rich.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t give a shit,\u201d Marla said. She pulled a hard hat over her cropped curly hair, the bright yellow hat making her mahogany skin and deep brown eyes seem to glow. \u201cWe\u2019re gettin\u2019 paid. Are you trying to say you ain\u2019t, Garvey?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNah, man, I wouldn\u2019t be doing this crazy shit if I wasn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo it doesn\u2019t matter, does it?\u201d Marla set her empty cup by the coffee maker. \u201cAnd don\u2019t call me \u2018man,\u2019 man.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut you\u2019re far more man than Garvey could ever hope to be,\u201d Sarah joked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cY\u2019all keep it up and I\u2019ll switch shifts with someone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cReally?\u201d Marla asked excitedly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah. I was thinking Butler might want to switch.\u201d Garvey laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCheeky fucker!\u201d Sarah bowed deeply. \u201cI\u2019m so terribly sorry I disparaged your indisputable, although fragile, manhood.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou ladies are killin\u2019 me,\u201d he said. \u201cLet\u2019s get to it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow far did the other shift get?\u201d Sarah asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garvey looked at his data pad. \u201cSecond shift got three kilometers, third got almost one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThird shift is digging now?\u201d Marla asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, I guess changing out the new style cutters is easier, makin\u2019 it so\u2019s they have time to spare now. Big boss don\u2019t like no \u2018spare time,\u2019 so they\u2019re gettin\u2019 dusty.\u201d Garvey held the door to the elevator open. \u201cAfter you, ladies.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s more like it,\u201d Marla said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They descended the shaft in the cage, the conveyor across from them continuing its upward journey, pushing the drilled material up to the Martian surface. It meant that they wouldn\u2019t have to start the drill from a stand-still for a change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The previous shift met them at the cage, Butler handing a sledgehammer to Garvey. \u201cGod damn,\u201d Butler said, \u201cthey just keep looking better every day don\u2019t they?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marla pretended she didn\u2019t hear him, but Sarah turned on the man, easily a head taller than her and built like a bull. \u201cFuck off, wanker,\u201d she said. \u201cThere\u2019s not a woman on Mars would piss on you if your hair was on fire.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marla let out a snort of laughter. Butler just stared at Sarah harder, as the cage lifted them out of sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the drill ground away at the solid mantle, the roughnecks managed the coil that served as a wall for the borehole. It required constant movement, pounding the four-centimeter-wide band into the space left by the moving drill head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With three of them, they could spell each other, two resting while one worked. As with all things related to the Mars Core Project, everything was organized in such a way to maximize the use of every second of every minute.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sarah worked her away around the borehole, hammering the band into the space created by the drill as it dug down. The band was fed from a coil that fit around the cages and conveyor. Somewhere in the hardware near the surface was the atmosphere generator, while huge fans along the shaft kept the air circulating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEnd of chain!\u201d Sarah\u2019s call brought the other two to their feet, following the inner side of the coil, which was now painted with red stripes that grew closer together as it fed out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the solid red end of the coil exited the feed, Garvey and Marla grabbed the bright green start of the new coil and pulled it out to the edge of the borehole. As Sarah pounded the last bit of the previous coil in place, they overlapped it with the bright green portion of the new coil, which she pounded in place on top of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Satisfied that the new coil was in place and not in danger of springing free, they sat back down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou know,\u201d Garvey said, \u201cI wasn\u2019t sure about being on a team with y\u2019all ladies.\u201d He glanced over at Marla, then looked back at Sarah. \u201cEspecially little Miss England.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cReally? Afraid we\u2019d show you up?\u201d Sarah teased.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMostly afraid I\u2019d be pullin\u2019 more than my share. And<\/em> afraid that I\u2019d have to watch my language around you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, not so much. \u2018Little Miss England\u2019 could make a sailor blush.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The drill slowed as their shift continued, smaller amounts of rubble leaving on the conveyor. Glints of metal twinkled in the rubble and the drill began heating up more than normal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s gettin\u2019 too hot!\u201d Garvey yelled over the growing din of the drill. \u201cShut it down!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sarah hit the e-stop on the drill, bringing it to a shuddering halt. The sudden relative silence washed over them, only the sounds of the fans filling the borehole.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPull the center cutter and let\u2019s have a goosey,\u201d Sarah said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marla crawled down onto the back of the cutter head and released the catches for the center cutter head and hooked it to the overhead winch. Once she was out of the way, Garvey raised the winch to lift the cutter free.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There, beneath the cutter, was a polished metal surface. They had reached the core. He pulled the data pad out of his cargo pocket and took a picture to send it to the surface. \u201cWe\u2019re here,\u201d he said on the radio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The voice on the radio responded. \u201cWe\u2019re sending down the core drill. Pull cutters two through seven.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPulling cutters two through seven, will radio when it\u2019s done,\u201d he answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All the drilling crews knew the plan upon reaching the core. Remove the center cutters of the drill, and the core drill, looking more like a giant, standard drill, would be lowered in. That drill was water cooled with cutting oil flowing around it at all times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The goal was to drill a cavity into the core large enough to hold a critical pile of uranium. It was hoped that the critical mass of uranium would heat up the core enough to make it molten once again. With the core molten, more fissile material would be dropped into the borehole and sealed in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This would, in theory, restart the Martian magnetosphere, improving the conditions for terraforming. At least, that was the theory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The core drill moved slowly but steadily down into the metallic core, creating a hole a meter wide and fifteen meters deep. They closed out their shift watching the core drill being retracted back up the shaft as the last of the iron-rich shavings, curves of more than a meter long and several centimeters wide, were carried up the conveyor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sarah had already cut off the coil at a long slant, pounding it into the last section of un-protected wall. She carried the sledgehammer over her shoulder as they waited for the cage to return to the dorms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I do believe that\u2019s our last shift,\u201d Marla said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sarah laughed. \u201cOh, you\u2019re going to miss us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garvey said, \u201cIt\u2019s been real, it\u2019s been fun, but it ain\u2019t been real fun.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course it has, you cheeky git!\u201d Sarah said. \u201cEvery minute you spend with me is another minute in heaven, and you know it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They rode the cage up to the dorms, where they saw the other shifts waiting, dressed in their bulky surface suits, helmets in hand, with their bags. \u201cPack up, we\u2019re out of here in thirty minutes,\u201d one of them said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy the rush?\u201d Marla asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey\u2019re bringing in the radioactives as soon as we\u2019re out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI guess they\u2019re going to write off everything in the dorms,\u201d Garvey said. \u201cHere\u2019s your chance to steal the coffee maker, Marla.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf I have room in my bag, you can bet I will.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They rode the cage to the surface in silence, the bulky suits uncomfortable after the year of living in the sealed, pressurized borehole. They put on their helmets and checked each other for gaps or leaks before the cage entered the airlock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you think it\u2019ll work?\u201d Garvey asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt might,\u201d Sarah said, \u201cthough I doubt very much we\u2019ll see it in our lifetime.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat are you going to do with your pay and bonus?\u201d Marla asked. \u201cI\u2019m probably going to retire to the Arkansas coast\u2026until I can claim a homestead here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m not ready to retire,\u201d Sarah said. \u201cI\u2019ll probably go back to lithium mining, unless I can get on with the Lunar mining crew; digging up rocks to turn into rocket fuel and air.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garvey shrugged. \u201cI\u2019ll probably get blind drunk for a while before I make up my mind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, you poor thing,\u201d Sarah said, \u201cyou\u2019re driven to drink just to get over us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Their banter was cut short when a ground vehicle trundled past, pulling a train of trailers marked with radioactive danger stickers. \u201cLooks like they\u2019re starting already. I\u2019d rather not be here when they figure out they used too much and blow up the planet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the lift ship connected them with the interplanetary ship, on a never-ending loop from Earth to Mars and back, Garvey checked his data pad. \u201cThey hit criticality; the core is starting to melt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marla watched the planet they\u2019d called home for the past year shrink behind them as they headed for Earth, imagining what it could look like if she were ever to return.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write a story about a team tunneling down into the centre of a planet. available at Reedsy \u201cThis isn\u2019t science, you know, it\u2019s a pissing contest.\u201d Garvey gulped down the cold, bitter coffee, dribbling …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2287","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/sxT7i-core","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2287","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2287"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2287\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2289,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2287\/revisions\/2289"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2287"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2287"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2287"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}