The Milkman: A Freeworld Novel by Martineck Michael

Author:Martineck, Michael [Martineck, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EDGE Science Fiction and Fantasy Publishing
Published: 2014-05-20T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Winter had its upside. Every aspect of the sewer rebuild moved slower. The ice and cold weighed on the electric winches, cranes, forklifts and trucks, even more so on the human operators. Even the foreman who reveled in pushing and pushing and pushing the alternative work force let their shouting and growling trail off as cables snapped, pipes cracked, mud froze in the extruder, constipating the entire operation. Emory would not have picked the dim, frigid tunnels for his breaks. Sitting down on the cold, concave, soiled surfaces provided almost as many challenges as working. Still, you rested where and when offered. Plopping down in salty snow slush was better than shoveling it.

Like most days, Campbell and Emory sat alone, at the farthest most portion of the pipe. Their job involved placing the struts and beams that reinforced the walls and ceiling, preparing the way for the rest of the crew. Today, no one followed. No one seemed to move much at all.

“They must hate you.” Campbell lay curled like a fetus under a tarp. The wrapping’s murky, wet translucence made a plastic womb.

“Why?” Emory asked, laying back on a brace he decided not to install. It fit so nicely in that curve of his neck, between the back of his head and his shoulders. “Because they paired me with you?”

“Yes. We’ve got the most dangerous job on the detail. Most floods and cave-ins happen before you jim jam it.”

“Maybe they think we’re the best,” Emory said. “The best of the worst.”

“You get it on with some low grade’s wife?”

“I killed a man for asking too many questions.”

Campbell chuckled. “No… something bad, though.”

All the prying. The nosiness. Emory understood it. You put a bunch of guys together, all the time, with little else to occupy them besides chiseling dirt and conversations weave and wander. He didn’t like it, though. He didn’t like Campbell’s persistence. Curiosity, he wondered. Or more? No. Stupid thought. The company wouldn’t plant someone here to extract information from him. They’d torture him, right? Of course, this felt an awful lot like torture and they got some value out of it. They could have made a deal with Campbell. Time off for information on Emory, the Milkman and the enterprise he created.

Time to change the subject. “How did the Buy-Ups happen?” Emory asked.

“Oh, now you’re interested.”

“No. I’d like to be playing with my baby,” Emory said. “Or drinking coffee in bed with my wife. But you’re what I’ve got.”

Campbell sat up, keeping the tarp tight under his neck. “A confluence of events, my friend. A confluence. I told you how the boundaries between public and private interests broke down. Security was the big one, but services morphed as well. The mail, sanitation and regulation of all sorts got handed over to private firms. The government had less and less to do, but the price tag still grew. At the same time, these companies wanted more and more rights. They paid taxes, so they figured they should get to act like citizens.

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