Clinker

By: Jason Leighty

The flats baked. A viscous heat wafted from the ground as the fire orb burned the sky.

Flat pitch black plain stretched as far as the eye could see. In the Great Plains, the parking lot, on

a cloudless summer afternoon, the uniform pitch created the illusion of starless midnight.

Sunlight pouring down caused waves of heat to stretch upwards, dry, baking.

Her light blonde hair was heavily soaked with sweat; it clung to the back of her shoulders
as her walk swayed. Her left foot, ankle swollen and red, resisted moving. The skin on the back

of her neck was bright pink where her hair parted. Perspiration drops sizzled upon hitting the

ground. The left knee of her slacks was torn; the clothes on the left side of her body were ragged,

peppered with tar. Under a torn sleeve a burnt elbow abrasion stained some skin black.

Stumbling caused her ankle to pop. Her exposed elbow slid across the blacktop as she fell. She

rolled over onto her back before crying out. It felt like the heat seared her; clothes made for poor

insulation against the surface of a hot pan.

She sat up rather quickly, her thicker pants were a bit more protection than her shirt. The

ground beneath trembled ever so slightly; becoming softer, heating up and beginning to melt.

She shook her head, careful while standing up and wiping the sweat from her forehead so she
could see. The ankle took some weight. As she squinted in the sunlight, a blue light flickering

globe formed amidst the empty space of her cupped palm. The ground calmed, the temperature

abated, the redness on the back of her neck began to fade, and she took more weight on the

injured leg. One last time, the blue light flickered in her palm. She stood still, then clenched her

fist. Sweat dripped from her forehead. She sighed. It was no use.

There was a slight swelling in her ankle. It looked as if it had healed somewhat. Still,

pushing forward left her swaying with every other step. It appeared any moment the pendulum
 Leighty / Clinker 2

would swing too far and she would collapse. But she kept moving.

A pit of gurgling tar formed where she had been, then stalked her. Viscous bubbles grew

large before they burst with an industrial hiss of oily air. Ribbons of tar rose from behind. They

swirled about this way and that as they moved out from their pit. She tried to keep moving,

maybe go faster, but her ankle throbbed just enough to keep her hobbling. The swaying of her

pendulous movements increased. Precious water beaded on her brow, dripping with every step.

Her chapped lips could barely handle the influx of air. Keep moving, she thought, keep moving.

But she could not stop herself from looking over her shoulder, it was getting closer. The orb of

blue light from her palm flickered. Yet unnoticed, a white speck floated toward her; growing

larger.

The long white airship came to blunted points at both ends. Sprawled across the white

synthetic outer skin in large black letters were: CLINKER CORP. A complex underbelly

stretched the entire length of the vessel, from the propellers and rudder, to the pilot’s cabin at the

forefront.

Tray checked the maps, the records had shown that this area was not as explored as most.

Thick fingers tapped against the panel of the mapping console. A lucking read out might reveal
something.

“Drop another sonar boom; I’d like to get a reading here,” Tray said.

Larox kept his feet propped on the instrument panel, gnawing the straw sticking out from
his water bottle.

“Give it a rest,” He mumbled, biting his straw, “We’ve been working for five hours and

the readings are dead. This area was abandoned for a reason. Sides’, it’s too damn hot for this

wild goose hunt.”

Tray kicked an empty swivel chair; it spun towards Larox. “Damn it all to hell then! I’ll

do it myself. They’d decommission this damn blimp if we’d all take your stinkin’ attitude.”

“Relaaaaax,” Larox drawled, “Everyone knows I’m the only one here with my attitude.”
 Leighty / Clinker 3

Tray lunged forward and slammed his palms on the arms of Larox’s chair. His nose was

an inch from Larox, and spittle flew from his teeth when he growled, “If you weren’t such a

damn good gunner, I’d have thrown your ass overboard a long time ago and let the asphalt get a

taste of it.”

“Watch the personal space, Tray,” Larox growled.

Tray actually leaned back, then went to check a scope only a few feet from where Larox

was sitting.

“One of these days I’ll do it,” Tray said to himself, though making a point of having it

heard. “He won’t even know it’s coming till his ass is tar food.”

Larox just snickered, “Whatever, I’d like to see you try.”

Tray grunted as his jaw tightened as he checked the scope. Miles and miles of asphalt

blackness numbed the eye. He decided to change the subject, suddenly diplomatic.

“Hard to believe this was ever for farming.”

“Yeah, like the greenhouses at base,” Larox said tiredly, “So what did they call this area

again, before any of us were born?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?” Tray snapped, “Lauren keeps track of that kind

of stuff. Since you’re so keen on her I’ll call her up.”

“It was an idle question Tray. Let the girl fix something in peace. And for the record, I’m

not that keen on her. She has ice water in her veins.”

But Tray was already picking up the microphone of his headset, “Lauren, get your ass up
here,” Tray said with a grin, “Larox has a question.”

“I’m busy, tell him I said no,” squeaked from Tray’s headphones loud enough for only

Tray to hear.

“It’s not a personal question, he actually wants a history lesson,” Tray smirked.

“Really? What does he want to know?” Lauren asked.

Tray chuckled, “Why don’t you ask him?”

Tray set the headset down as Larox put his head back and groaned, “Abuse of power, you
 Leighty / Clinker 4

pompous ass. Last thing I need is a lecture.”

A few minutes later a door to the interior of the airship underbelly, the crane room to be

exact, swung open and then shut again as Lauren entered. Oil, grime, and fluid darkened her gray

polyester work suit. Her brown hair was pulled back tightly into a large bun above the back of

her neck. The dirty, reeking ball of hair was soaked with all the putrid chemicals that powered

the crane, and a fair share of oil and sweat.

“So what does our student need to know?” She asked, idly slapping her name tag as it

began to peel off.

Tray grinned, “Larox wanted to know what this part of the parking lot used to be called.”

“What are the coordinates?” She asked.

“Last I checked we were running 99.61 long and 38.74 lad, about 350 miles due south

from the base,” Larox said.

Tray shook his head in disgust. “That was fifteen minutes ago.”

“We’re over the middle of Kansas. This is the land my grandparents farmed, so I should

know. In fact, Hill River used to be right around here. ”

“Free soil farmers,” Tray sighed, “Not much to farm now.”

“How would you know what they did?” Larox asked Lauren, “You weren’t even born.”
“My parents told me stories-- about the world they knew as children, before…. before

this… what do you even call this?” She picked up a pair of high powered binoculars to scan the

dark terrain below, “I don’t recognize this world. I’ve known it all my life, and it still seems
strange to me.”

She saw something moving below, a tiny figure in the distance, so she adjusted for a

more detailed view, keeping the object in sight. She tilted her head and squinted. Her jaw

dropped slightly.

“How can that be?” Lauren asked, as if it was a matter of intellectual curiosity.

Crickets could have chirped for all the interest Tray and Larox were showing in Lauren at

the moment. Larox was sipping on water, purposely tuning her out. Tray shifted back to the
 Leighty / Clinker 5

sonar data to examine charts.

“There’s someone out there!” Lauren yelled, loud enough to grab their attentions, “Holy

fuck! There’s someone alive down there!”

“It’s probably a mirage,” Tray grumbled, flicking his hand back.

“Probably too much sun in her eyes, or she was sniffing the mineral spirits,” Larox

suggested as he leaned back further.

“I’m serious,” she said, “It’s a person-- running toward us. This isn’t a mirage! There’s a

woman down there!”

“Larox, why don’t take a second look?” Tray said.

“You gotta be kidding!” Larox protested, but he actually got for a change. Without so
much as a warning he seized the binoculars, ignoring her protest. He scanned the terrain a bit

disinterestedly, keeping his head down.

“Don’t see a thing,” he said calmly.

Lauren adjusted his head, not bothering to be gentle. Larox saw the stranded woman from

two hundred meters above.

“Holy shit!” Larox exclaimed, the binoculars nearly salling out of his hands, “Am I

seeing things!”
“We gotta do something before we drift out of range,” Lauren said urgently. “Have Horst

get a bearing on her position so we can lower the crane.”

“I’ll go down,” Larox said as he turned to leave.

“What the hell is this!” Tray hollered, “I’m the captain here. Wait for me to give the

freakin’ orders!”

The door out of the interior cabin swung shut. The others were gone before Tray could

protest any further. The sounds of the opening hatch and the crane’s clinking chains followed the

thrum of the motors.

“Can’t even fucking consult my opinion first,” Tray muttered.

Tray threw some graphs on the floor and hurried to the cockpit door, he pushed it open. It
 Leighty / Clinker 6

was littered with empty water bottles. The pilot leaned back to navigate the wheel with his feet

while keeping his hands behind his head. Rap music escaped from his headphones.

“Horst, some girl is wandering the flats. Check your scope, fly low, and take this baby

within range of the lift,” Tray said.

There was no response from Horst, so Tray pulled the headphones off, scowling as he

pointed to the cabin door, said, “I’m taking over the controls, slacker! Man the pulse cannon. I

want you ready to assist if the asphalt activates.”

“Wha?” Horst said, “How’re we supposed to get the goods without opening things up

down there first. Sounds ass backward to me.”

“There’s no treasure,” Tray snapped, “Rescue operation. You’re supporting with the
artillery.”

“Someone’s down there?” Horst asked, looking out the window. “Out here? That’s crazy.

There’s no way someone could be down there.”

“Well someone is, now get to the guns before I make you go down there.”

Horst turned from the door with a jerk, “Still don’t believe it!”

“Now!” Tray shouted.

The ground softened around her boots, clinging to them like a very thin layer of sticky

tar. With every step the tar was getting thicker, and no matter how much she tensed her fingers
she could not get the blue haze that softened the grounds attacks to return. Meanwhile the ground

became so viscous that she couldn’t free her boots from the tar bands that stretched whenever she

lifted her legs. A loud horn sounded from the airship; she looked up, saw it, and waved

desperately. She continued waving both arms above her head, trying to move as she yelled.

“Heyyyyy!! Heeeyyyyyyy!! Help me!!! Please Help me!!!” she cried, her voice rather

soft even in desperation.

 Leighty / Clinker 7

The airship sailed towards her. A platform chained to a crane in the underbelly of the

airship was descending; it had standing room for about four people. Chains clinked and

screeched as Aldair saw Larox on the platform, clinging to the safety rail near the edge as the

vessel lowered. His hair was disheveled, a long mess of strands in various lengths. Dark jeans

and heavy black boots were the first things she saw. He had a blue shirt on, short sleeves, his

arms were toned. Aldair stood patiently as the vessel approached, as she could see Larox reach

for her hand.

“Grab my hand, I’ll pull you out!” he said.

Only the moment she reached in return, he was jerked away as the airship itself pulled up.

There was a heavy easterly wind on the plains which picked up the airship from behind.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, if Horst was piloting. Tray could pilot in a pinch, but this

kind of thing was far too common with him the controls required precision. To pluck a person

from the clutches of the ground, the platform had to be placed precisely. It wasn’t like they could

tether the airship to the ground. It was all in the piloting.

Larox tapped his headpiece, “What the hell is going on, keep it stable people! I’m seven

meters in front the target and too damned high. Bring it back!”

Aldair lifted her head, turned around and squinted as the man spoke into headphones. The

crane platform lifted and passed her by, the airship hovered above her, though she was not in its
shadow. It looked like it attempted to stabilize over her position against the wind. The platform

lowered, though Lauren had to be careful not to let it touch the ground. They played a game of

centimeters.

Meanwhile, a pool of hot tar formed around Aldair. It was drawing her in slowly,

bubbling around her protective foot gear as the soles sank a bit deeper into the muck. Larox

balanced himself as the platform was jolted by rather harsh adjustments to the airship’s position.

He gripped the rails to keep from failing and called once again, but the pilot wasn’t getting the
 Leighty / Clinker 8

ship low enough and Lauren had lowered the platform as far as it would go!

He was so close but couldn’t reach her uplifted hand, she was only a few feet away from

him being able to pull her up. But the vessel itself slowly brought him closer to the woman

below. Their fingers touched, Larox felt a spark, and swore he saw a fizzle of blue static. He

reached forward to take her hand when the airship ascended again; the pilot failed to make

minute adjustments for the winds. Larox mumbled, this was just like Tray, he’d rather go up than

overcompensate and go down too far. Undaunted, Larox hung on a rail by his lower legs and

went upside down to reach her. Sure it was insanely dangerous, but she didn’t look like she had

time to wait for the ship to stabilize.

“Grab my arm, you can do it!” Larox yelled, but the ship couldn’t stay that low long
enough for her to manage it, even though the propellers were off. Larox pulled back up, he took

off his boots, then pulled off his black jeans to reveal lanky, hairy legs. He tied the pants leg to

the rail before jumping over the edge with a hold of his jeans. He almost kicked Aldair in the

face with his stocking feet. She found herself looking at socks, as she was now right under him

and able to grab his dangling legs as he hung from his jeans.

“Just keep it stable!” Larox yelled into his headset.

Then he looked down to Aldair, “Climb!” he yelled, hoping the airship wouldn’t decide
to descend properly right at this moment.

Aldair looked up to see a pair of gray underwear. A blush formed across her cheeks as

she hesitated to grab his legs. It didn’t look like it was going to work, he’d probably just loose
his grip and fall anyway. And he was in his underwear.

“Grab my foot, damn it! I’m trying to save your life,” Larox screamed.

“I can’t,” she whispered, “I just c-can’t!”

A huge gust of hot wind caught the airship from underneath and forced it up. The pair of

boots slid over the edge of the platform as the chains were jolted. Larox gripped his jeans as he

swung under the platform. Suddenly what had been so up close and personal was a twenty foot

drop way off center from the target position. Larox climbed back up his pants, untied them, and
 Leighty / Clinker 9

slid them back on.

“One more time Lauren,” he yelled in his headset, “Tray, if your dumb ass is in that pilot

seat I’m going to kick it later! Put the platform on the ground if you have to! Drag it!! She’s

stuck in the ground a bit, so be sensible, we don’t want to chop her with the platform!”

Above, Horst made a visit to the control room, “Having trouble with this jet stream

Captain?”

“These winds aren’t behaving in any sensible pattern, and I think we lost a few power

sources. The propellers don’t seem to be turning right, everything is going to shit.”

Horst smiled, “Clinker can’t afford proper maintenance I suppose, either that or the
Captain wants to look a bit too cost efficient.”

Tray sweat as he manipulated the control stick. The airship groaned against him. The

panel displayed power readings in the yellow. Just above the ground, the upper level jet streams

blew unpredictable and fierce. Weather patterns had changed worldwide. Piloting an airship was

a constant peril, especially when it essentially couldn’t land anywhere. Horst pulled out a panel

and began rigging some wires into new inputs. He bumped his head once as the airship shifted

and uttered a loud curse. Then he pulled himself out and politely indicated he’d prefer the
controls. Tray conceded defeat and lifted himself up, he left the cockpit to man the guns, though

he bit his lip as he went.

Finally, the airship managed to get the propellers moving properly and pushed down
against the wind. Horst positioned the airship right above Aldair, but even he wouldn’t put Larox

close enough for a comfortable reach. It wouldn’t be as easy as having her step right onto the

platform. Bringing the platform to the ground on activated asphalt could anchor the blimp if the

ground decided to clutch it, meaning they would have to jettison the platform along with Larox

and the victim. Larox tucked his legs as if hanging from monkey bars and was close enough to

snag Aldair’s uplifted arm with both of his. Sweat laced her thin arms, his palms were sweaty as

well, making the grip tenuous from the start. Then the airship suddenly jolted down four feet,
 Leighty / Clinker 10

maybe one of those variances, or perhaps Horst trying to get him closer. He found his face in her

crotch, his arms wrapped around to grab her butt.

“Flower in the tar,” Larox suggested.

Aldair turned bright red as she wrapped her arms around Larox’s thighs, a rescue was a

rescue. But she couldn’t climb to the platform because her feet were stuck in tar.

“Bring it up Lauren!” Larox yelled into his headset microphone, “And take it easy!”

Ropes of clingy tar broke from the woman’s protective boots as the platform lifted with a

screech of chains. Aldair started to climb onto the platform. She was trying to keep her feet from

touching Larox’s face when she heard him yell anyway. Her hand had just grasped the safety rail

when she felt something latch her injured ankle. She screamed in pain at the searing heat through
her clothing. A string of inky black muck extended from the earth; it wrapped the woman’s

injured ankle and pulled her with forceful tugs. Her sweaty hands lost their grip on the safety

rail. Larox caught the sides of her waist, almost taking off her shirt as his fingers slid into the

side of a pink bra. The airship lowered again, as well as the crane, to prevent them both from

possibly dying if they fell. Larox grunted as he struggled to keep her, only to go down with her

in his arms. They rolled a bit on the ground. It felt like they landed on a hot skillet. Larox

screamed as he forced himself to stand and helped her up. It was all up to Horst now; there was
no room for error.

“Shit!” Larox yelled, “I’m on the ground and things look active down here, real active!

Please assist!”
A hole opened in the underbelly of the ship, a yellow canister that looked like a barrel

was launched out. It hit the ground, a spray of water exploding out, all charged with electricity.

Aldair clutched her chest and screamed out as if in pain as an electromagnetic pulse emitted from

the center of the explosion and traveled through the air and along the ground at a specified radius

from the blast. Formations of tar strings fell apart and tar pits cooled. Clouds of steam rose from

the blast site, the mineral laden water helped to carry the EMP charge further. With the platform

now safe to drag on the asphalt, Larox began to tug at Aldair. He put her arm over his shoulder
 Leighty / Clinker 11

and helped her move as she cried. She wasn’t moving well, looked like she was about to pass

out, but the EMP effect in this area wouldn’t last long.

“Hop on,” Larox said, lifting her onto his back, as it seemed like she had really hurt her

ankle on that fall.

At least the ground had cooled, as he carried her it felt more like walking on blacktop on

a hot sunny day. It wasn’t pleasant but he could bear it with the help of his stockings. The

platform approached as the airship worked against a strong prevailing wind, one stronger than

what it had dealt with previously. It would only be a matter of seconds in which the platform

would be within reach, a brief window of opportunity in which they could walk right on and get

pulled up to safety. The ground shook as geysers of hot tar burst around their position. The tar
was reactivating even more fiercely, as if thirsting for revenge.

“We’re getting the fuck out of here, trust me on this,” Larox said.

Safety beckoned only a few feet away when the ground rolled underneath them, a

tremendous localized earthquake. They found themselves knocked off their feet, Larox held the

woman close as they slid. Clothes were torn and stained; Larox had a cut on his face that slowly

dripped blood. He pulled himself and her to get back on their feet. Then he slung her over his
back once again. He started to lose his breath as sweat dripped from his forehead. He tried to

carry her over his back again but the earthquake corrupted his balance. It was all he could do to

maintain his footing and keep them from being rolled into a tar pit. He sighed, unable to even
push forward when close to safety.

Three canisters shot forth from the ship, all landed around Larox’s position. He felt the

blacktop cool under his burning feet. The ground stopped shaking so much, and Larox began

trudging forward. He drooled for the safety of the platform. Aldair rested her head on his

shoulders as she sat on his hands, which pushed up on her butt.

“Here goes, gonna have to let go of that fine ass,” he said, “Can’t take much more of this,

so hold on tight, no choking me!”

 Leighty / Clinker 12

No sooner than he was about to walk on the platform with her than it raised just above

her head, the airship suddenly lifting. Larox broke into a stream of loud four letter words

beginning with F. He spit in rage. Aldair clung to Larox’s shoulder with all her power as he

reached to grasp the bottom of the platform using sweaty palms, which began slowly slipping as

the airship raised further.

“Lower, lower,” he yelled, “I’m slipping. You can do better than this Horst!”

Horst’s voice came back over the communications link, it was laced with frustration, “I

don’t have full fucking power, doing the best I can!”

He looked back to the woman who was clinging to his shoulders as Larox tried

desperately to cling to the platform

“Can’t you fucking climb?!” he yelled, “It’s right above you!”

She didn’t move.

“I can’t pull us both up. You have to climb first,” he yelled

As he said this the airship lowered again, but only enough for Larox’s feet to touch the

ground. Since he was going to slip off soon anyway he let go. That way they wouldn’t get hurt

when he fell. Upon landing Aldair slid off Larox’s back, looking just as frustrated with this

rescue as he was. They had a few seconds before strings of muck rose from the ground and
slapped at them, coiled and then whipped at them, finally wrapping Larox in the fashion by

which a snake kills its prey. He screamed, it felt like his ribs were going to cave in while being

cooked alive.
Aldair’s eyes lit with an florescent blue light as her fist lit as if by a blue fire surrounding

it. She punched the asphalt coil that had wrapped Larox. The coils cooled, loosened, and fell

apart into dust and crumbs. Larox was freed; he ended up was kneeling in front of her, panting,

eyes wide. Aldair was panting too, she looked as if she was about to pass out.

“How’d you do that?” Larox asked, “Do it again!?”

But she simply shook her head, as if that wasn’t possible. He was about to say something

when a searing blob of tar reached up from the ground and sucked on his right hand. He
 Leighty / Clinker 13

screamed as he pulled out the sizzling red flesh. Blobs of tar formed around them; the flats were

changing tactics. Geysers of black gunk shot forth. A small pool of boiling tar claimed Aldair’s

right boot with such tenacity that she couldn’t pry it loose. Larox grunted, ignored the pain in his

hand, now welted, and pulled her stocking clad foot from the boot. His feet were burning, as his

heavy stockings could not combat the ground’s reviving heat. They needed to stop dancing

around and get on that platform! He pushed her on his back forcefully, grunting at the pain of his

hand as he surveyed the terrain. The airship was too far above them… he’d have to wait. He

cursed.

This airship opened fire, another canister exploded onto the asphalt. Aldair squirmed,
groaned in pain, and then went limp for a moment. Larox was relieved by how quickly the

ground cooled under his feet. This time there was another earthquake as the top layer of ground

retracted around where the canister landed. It was a retraction signal EMP on low polarity, they

caused the activated asphalt to retreat temporarily so treasure could be recovered. If Tray was

using them, it meant they were almost out of options. Nearby was a pit of flat gray, bedrock, the

organic matter below had probably been absorbed by the asphalt over time, turned into gunk.

Larox could only hope it didn’t open too wide, lest he be sucked in with the girl before they
could be rescued. The airships propellers powered full as Horst maneuvered it again, Tray

continued firing pulse canisters, opening pits around Larox’s position, just hoping to distract the

ground long enough to get this rescue finished successfully. The platform touched down, Horst
finally edging it right next to Larox.

“Hold on tight,” Larox screamed, pushing the both of them onto the platform, “Bring her

up!”

He watched as the asphalt began to reclaim the craters opened by the EMP barrage. It

was resoundingly quick the way the ground moved. He leaned against the safety rail and hugged

the woman against his side as the platform was pulled up. He wasn’t going to let her slip over the

edge after all that. Still, with his good hand he pulled a half smoked cigarette in the back pocket
 Leighty / Clinker 14

of his jeans. Since he didn’t have a light and wouldn’t be able to smoke it on the ride up anyway,

he flicked it over the edge of the platform. Only now he felt the pain in the patches of wet sticky

skin on his badly burnt hand.

Two bunk beds stood at both sides of the sleeping cabin. Between the beds, but to the

back, was an easy chair with a portable television sitting on its cushion. A small freezer sat under

the left bunk. A sofa was pushed against the front wall; the rooms only obvious entrance was

next to it. A small metal ventilation fan hung from the ceiling. The rescued woman sat on a bunk

as Lauren wrapped her ankle. All the crew members were versed in basic first aid, but Lauren

usually ended up doing the work. Larox sat on Tray’s bunk at the other side of the room. Two
cold wraps tied over his burnt hand with an old cord. Tray sat on the sofa and watched the

refugee suspiciously.

“All tied,” Lauren said, “That should hold you until we get back to Mandaree.”

“If we get back to Mandaree,” Tray sighed, “That double loop Horst performed to rescue

your sorry asses cost us too much fuel.”

“Forgive us, oh great one,” Larox said stoically.

“How in the world did you get out this far into the flats?” Lauren asked, “Don’t you
know it’s dangerous to be wondering around down there.”

The refugee looked down at her ankle silently.

“More like deadly,” Tray said while playing with the buttons on the television. “I never
heard of anybody getting this far out without becoming pavement food. Someone must of

dropped you out there. Do you have any idea who? You even have a name?”

The refugee stared at her foot blankly, as if refusing to acknowledge anyone now that she

was rescued.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you hear!?” Tray yelled.

“Relax, Tray,” Larox said.

“Don’t pick on her,” Lauren protested, “What if she’s in shock!”

 Leighty / Clinker 15

“He wouldn’t know anything about that, though,” Larox snickered, “He’s still setting

records for stupidity.”

“That would be impossible, because you hold the unbreakable title,” Tray shot back.

Larox stood up with a lazy stretch and began to wrap a towel around the cold packs on

his injured hand. He looked too relaxed, a slight smile face as he lazily approached the new girl

and looked her in the face slyly.

“Hey,” he almost whispered, “I rescued you right…”

Lauren growled a bit this time, “If I remember correctly it was group effort.”

Larox shook his head, “We… rescued you. Could you please tell us your name?”

“Aldair,” she said softly.

“Aldair,” Larox said a bit louder, looking at Tray smugly before turning back to Aldair,

“Heh, that’s a pretty name. Sounds a lot nicer than Lauren.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my name?” Lauren protested.

“Nothing in particular,” he said, “just boring.”

“I’ll show you boring.” she said, batting him on the head before leaving the sleeping

quarters.

A stifling breeze blew through the open windows of the deck as Larox leaned outside

one, casually watching the awful scenery. The sunset settled upon the landscape like a huge egg

yolk over the surface of hot griddle. It sunk into the Teflon horizon, as if evaporating. Larox
sighed at his bandaged hand, happy that the pain stung, for that meant he would probably keep it.

He was waiting for the others, seemed they were going to have a little meeting about the newbie.

Tray was there next, his boots thumped against the metal deck behind him.

“All our fuel and ammo is gone,” he complained, “The power system is failing. We don’t

have anything of value to present to the corporation; no treasure, no metals, no soil, no water,

nothing. We’ll be damned lucky if they don’t fire us. And that’s if we’re lucky enough to make it

back.”
 Leighty / Clinker 16

“Relax,” Larox said, “We’ve been good to them; besides, where else are they gonna find

such professional tar rats?”

Horst and Lauren entered from opposite sides of the deck.

“The wind’s favorable for a return to Mandaree,” Horst said, “I think I can manage it.”

“See that,” Larox said, “Things always seem to work out.”

“Yah,” Tray said, “Well one of these days they ain’t.”

Larox pulled out a cigarette out of his pocket and bent it between his fingers, “Hey, did

anybody happen to notice anything strange, I mean, with what was going on down there, you

know, when I almost died?”

“Well, I was rather busy keeping everything stable for you, or trying to,” Horst said.
“My focus was on the crane, it kept getting stuck, I think we need a new one,” Lauren

said.

“Come to think of it, I did notice where you had your head, looked like you were diggin

in!” Horst laughed, “Ah man, no wonder you couldn’t keep it together! Larox and his famous

hands on approach. You dirty bastard!”

Larox clenched his mouth shut, turning a bit red as he looked outward. Horst broke into a

belly laugh.
Tray looked toward Lauren, grumbling at her, “How’s the girl doing, she all right?”

“She’s asleep,” Lauren said, “So what’s up, do you want to throw her overboard or

something? Look, there’s really not much to talk about, so I’m gonna clean off a little bit of this
grime.”

“One pint of water.” Tray said, “And not a damned drop more!”

“Want some company?” Larox asked, “I’ll soap you good.”

“You both need to get real,” Lauren said as she walked out, “And I’m using a quart from

my personal stash, but thanks for the extra pint!”

“We don’t got any treasure this time,” Horst said, “What’s up with that?”

“It’ll work out,” Tray said, “Haven’t you heard the news, we’re freaking heroes now.”
 Leighty / Clinker 17

“Oh,” Horst said complacently, “Heroes…… kinda like the sound of that.”

“Yah,” Tray said, as the last of the sun boiled away, “Heroes. Too bad we can’t save this

world of ours.”

“It’s too late for that,” Larox sighed, “Nothing can save it now.”