The Steam Mole by Dave Freer Read Free Book Online Page A

cubbies, he ripped the letter in two.
    Something in Tim just snapped. The foreman was much bigger and older than he was. He was looking for a fight. Looking for a soft target to bully. Tim knew that. What the man wasn’t expecting was a furious volcano of rage. Tim dropped his head and charged with wildly flailing fists—not exactly fighting science. His head caught the bigger man in the wobbly belly, and he went over and down with Tim on top of him, yelling, and punching everything he could hit.
    The others pulled him off, and Tim, sanity returning, was horrified at himself. His heart still thumped furiously, as his tormentor got up off the floor, helped by several of the crew. His nose was bleeding and one eye was already swelling shut. Tim saw the initial shocked fear in the foreman’s eyes turn into a publicly humiliated rage. Tim knew that, short of a miracle, he was going to be killed. The foreman grabbed him by the shirt-front and swung a massive fist at his head. Tim managed to duck sideways and most of the force of the blow slid off his cheek and temple. Tim’s yell was outdone by a bellow from his attacker, who hit the steel stanchion so hard it vibrated. “My bloody hand! You little black…”
    â€œ What is going on here?” demanded a chilly voice.
    Tim really disliked Shift-captain Vister. But right now he was glad to see him. Warm wetness trickled down Tim’s cheek, and the pain started.
    â€œThis boong attacked me, sir. Attacked me without reason or provocation. I think he’s mad,” said the foreman.
    And it just went downhill from there. It was obvious that the shift-captain was not going to let Tim speak or defend himself.
    â€œI can’t demote you, because you’re already as low as an employee can go, but I’m going to dock you three weeks pay. Next step is to fire you. And unless you fancy walking back to Sheba, don’t make me do that,” said the shift-captain.
    â€œGo ahead,” said Tim, sullen.
    That finally got Shift-captain Vister to stop his rant. He shut his mouth like a steel trap. Finally he snarled, “I can’t. But I’m going to lock you up until we get back to the power station, you insolent pup. And the report I’m going to write on you will make sure you never get another job in Westralia. That sort of reputation gets around.”
    Tim looked around at the watchers. Almost the entire shift was there, as the steam mole made its way back to the power station after their thirty-six hour shift. Not one soul had said a word in his defense.
    â€œGo ahead, throw me off,” he said again. Anything had to be better than being in here with this lot.
    The shift-captain looked like a trapped rat, eyes darting around. Obviously he’d threatened something a bit beyond his power.
    And then someone sniggered.
    The shift-captain slammed his hand down on the central reservoir, echoing, silencing everyone. “Stop the train,” he said.
    No one moved. “You heard me,” he shouted. “Stop the mole. This boong gets off now . He can walk back to the power station.”
    â€œYou can’t do that, sir,” said someone.
    â€œWatch me, Samuels. And don’t you give me any of your lip or I’ll dock you three weeks pay, too. And any of the rest of you!”
    The mole came to a shuddering halt.
    â€œIt’ll kill him out there, sir. He can’t breathe in the tunnels.”
    â€œSee if I care. Only good one of these blackfellers is a dead one.”
    â€œAt least let him out at the emergency exit.”
    â€œA weeks pay, Samuels. But yes. He can hold his breath, or breathe his own stink that long, and then walk back to the power station. All he has to do is follow the termite run for six miles.”
    Tim found himself hauled off by the shift-captain and the foreman and hustled along to the lock.
    And pushed out into the darkness.
    Tim fell off the high step, down and out into the