Katie Kincaid Candidate: Katie Kincaid One Read online

  If that was true for the M-types it was even more true for the other types of asteroids. Some of them were largely water, but even those had the odd surprise contained in them. And so a wasteful degree of effort of was expended on the first pick through the ore. Katie had seen hints of competition of politicking for positions there. She’d felt the resentment by the others that she took up one of those slots for several days. She’d not found anything. Had not expected to and would have gladly skipped the experience. Only someone had decided she was spending time at every station on the line.

  After first pick, there was a further sorting and a grinding and crushing of the ore down to standard sized pieces. Some portion of the ore went directly from that stage directly to either water, organics, or metal processing, but most was more mixed and subjected to a second sorting.

  It was all rather simple, but it involved moving a lot of rock around. Mostly routine, but if you got careless, got in the way, or flung some rock around too hard bad things could happen. Katie had thought she was strong minded, but it was trying. Mostly boring as hell, but with some slight chance of things going drastically wrong if you didn’t pay attention. Maybe even if you did. Not much you could do about that. The stress built until it became a constant low grade headache.

  So she had to pay more attention to the rocks in front of her and what they looked like. Very occasionally one was a little different and needed to be picked out and placed in a special bin. It might be a valuable organic or piece of metal. Mostly they were just rocks. Also, you had to be careful once you’d completed one pile of rock and another was incoming. Didn’t want to be in the way. It’d be a crushing experience. Ha, ha.

  “You need to focus, Kincaid,” came a voice from behind her. It was Connie D’Souza her foreman. For some reason, most of the foremen on the line were women.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Katie replied. The woman was right, after all.

  “You work on surveys on your family rig?” D’Souza asked.

  “Yes, I did, ma’am,” Katie replied wonder why if Connie wanted her to concentrate she was distracting Katie. Katie spotted an odd rock that might be worth special processing. She grabbed it and flipped it into the appropriate bin. “Mostly outer belt rocks. ‘C-type’ mostly. Lot of base material for the gardens.”

  “But bit of a mix, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Johnny,” D’Souza called out to a man changing out bins, “come here.” Johnny came over. He was skinny and gave the impression of never having been too bright. And having gone downhill from there. He was quiet and a hard worker. Connie didn’t normally give him non-routine tasks that involved noticing things. “You take Kincaid’s station for a bit, okay?”

  “Sure, boss,” Johnny replied.

  “Kincaid, you come with me,” D’Souza said, walking off towards a currently unused corner of the huge cavern they were in.

  Katie followed the woman. They stopped by a large pile of variegated rubble. The color differences were subtle, but real. Connie D’Souza studied the pile with disgust. “This is just a sample batch,” she said. “We’ve got a whole ship load of this crap coming through.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Katie said. Seemed the safest thing to say. Remaining completely silent might seem sullen.

  “Can you make any sense of it?” D’Souza asked.

  “Relatively recent accretion from an intersection between various groups, I’d guess,” Katie said. “All sorts of pieces knocked off of first and second generation bodies mixed together. Mostly carbon and some water, but can be almost anything else mixed in.”

  “Yeah, mismatched junk. Knew that,” D’Souza said. “Can you recognize the minerals when you see them?”

  “Some,” Katie said slowly. Who knew what would turn up in one of these things? Her father lived for finding rare never before seen minerals in asteroids. It was likely the reason that when he and her mother had decided to flee their families, they’d come out to the Belt. He’d spent hours talking about it to her. It was interesting, she had to admit, but she found a lot of other things more interesting. D’Souza doubtless wasn’t interested in Katie’s family history.

  “More common minerals, sure,” Katie said. “But I’m just a rock rat kid. Nothing special, not an astrogeologist or anything.”

  “You do the surveys. You know the science,” D’Souza asserted.

  “The basics sure, ma’am,” Katie said. “Science is complicated and not settled yet, though. Lot we don’t know yet. We often got surprises out there. It’s why none of this is automated.”

  “So what are we likely to see when that load comes in?”

  Woman wasn’t taking “no” for an answer. Katie took a deep breath and did her best. “Odd pockets of high mineralization embedded in the watery crud. There’ll be the occasional piece of rare mineral. They’ll be worth looking for. Take a lot of patience and a sharp eye.”

  “Okay,” D’Souza said. “Get a good night’s sleep tonight. Think about it. You’re coming in an hour early tomorrow to give the rest of us a talk on how to spot that stuff. It’ll be worth a kind word in my report.”

  “Yes, ma’am. That all?” Katie said.

  “Yep, back at it, girl.”

  They turned to go their ways when a whistling sound grew suddenly from a mere whisper to a loud screech. D’Souza looked up, fear on her face. Katie realized what it was. A load of rock was coming in way too fast and without warning.

  “Johnny, run!” yelled D’Souza.

  Johnny turned slowly at first, and then realization dawning started to move. He was too late.

  The main load came roaring in and demolished the station Katie had been manning. That missed Johnny. The large fragments it sent flying all around, they didn’t. In slow motion, Katie saw one piece catch him in the center of his back. Another piece clipped his head as he went down.

  In seconds it was all over. A few loose pieces of rock still rolling slowly here and there on the cavern floor, but nothing dangerous anymore.

  D’Souza rushed over to Johnny and inspected him. Half his head had been caved in. It lay in a large growing puddle of blood. It wasn’t spurting, which Katie understood wasn’t a good sign. D’Souza laid some fingers on the wrist of an outstretched arm and leaned in close with an ear.

  “No pulse. Not breathing. Head smashed in. Don’t think we can do anything for Johnny,” she stated grimly. She spared Katie a quick glance before taking a deep breath and composing herself. “George,” she yelled. George was the shift’s safety officer. As far as Katie had noticed it meant he had a yellow hard helmet he could wear. “You call the medics?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” George replied.

  D’Souza stood and looked about. “Everybody else, okay?”, she yelled.

  A chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” came back.

  “Okay, line is halted. You’re all to stay here. You don’t talk to each other. Especially not about this,” D’Souza announced loudly and clearly without any signs of the stress Katie had seen on her face just moments before.

  “You don’t think this was an accident?” Katie asked quietly.

  “No, I don’t,” D’Souza replied, “and what did I say about talking?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Katie said. She was starting to feel sick as what had happened started to sink in.

  7: Katie's Close Call

  Katie had never thought about it before, but the police must constantly monitor emergency calls.

  They’d arrived close on the heals of the medical emergency team. Turned out they had a lot more to do and say.

  The medics had dispassionately confirmed what everybody had already figured out. Johnny was gone and beyond any help. They’d remained only to answer questions for the police.

  There were a lot of police. Katie figured most of the current shift must be here and then some. Chief Donald Dingle himself had just arrived. The police who were almost as numerous as the workers on shift had spaced everyone out in long lines. They’d reite
rated D’Souza’s instructions to not talk to each other.

  Katie herself had been separated from D’Souza. She’d followed the instructions of the police officer who’d told her to stand there and not talk docilely. She was trying as hard as she could to be small and hard to see.

  She couldn’t help looking around some and observing what was going on. Her fellow workers were mostly standing about with glum, zoned out patience. Some looked half asleep. Sam had once told her one thing you learned in the marines was that you rested whenever you got the chance. You never knew when the next chance would come. Seemed processing line workers had a similar philosophy.

  Katie just hoped the police would get through their interrogations quickly. That the line would go back to working and that she could finish out the rest of her stint on it without being in the vicinity of more accidents. She couldn’t see how anyone could hold her responsible for what had happened, but somehow she had the sense the Commander would feel she was somehow guilty. She could only hope the balance of evidence and logic would outweigh those feelings. In the meantime, all she could do was wait and surreptitiously observe.

  The regular policeman all had that bland intimidating look that even policemen in old pre-space age movies had. Must go with the job.

  Most of them stood about making sure the workers, witnesses to the police she guessed, didn’t take off or talk with each other.

  A small group accompanied Chief Dingle as he moved from witness to witness asking questions. The Chief had a different vibe from the uniformed line officers. The traditional rumpled detective one. That he was wearing a fedora, likely the only one on Ceres, suggested this was no accident.

  Eventually he reached Katie.

  “Katie Kincaid,” he said, looking up from a small tablet he’d been reading. Katie had the feeling he hadn’t needed it to tell him who she was. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m working as a temporary intern on the line for a few weeks, sir,” she answered. “Commander Tretyak arranged it. He wanted to see how well I could handle working at non-academic tasks in a team not composed of family members before endorsing an application to the Space Force Academy.”

  “I see,” the Chief said, looking down at his tablet. He gave no hint if any of this was news to him or if he’d known it all all along. “A dangerous place for a young woman.”

  “Sir. It’s no more dangerous than working a watch on a mining rig,” Katie replied. “People my age and younger routinely do that on family ships.”

  “Haven’t had a shipboard accident like this in many years,” the Chief said. “Did you know you have reputation as a trouble magnet?”

  “I’m pretty much an outsider, sir,” Katie said. “Not from Ceres itself and my family isn’t one of the old mining ones that’s been here for generations. We have a different business model and operating routine too. I guessing it’s easier to blame things that happen anywhere near me on me rather than anyone else.”

  “So you do know you have a reputation,” the Chief said. “You don’t think it’s a fair one?”

  “I don’t know, sir,” Katie said. She didn’t want to argue with the man or contradict him, but neither was she confessing to anything she didn’t think was true. “It’s not the sort of thing people tell you to your face, and I’m not sure how separate my individual reputation is from that of my family’s.”

  “But you had an explanation?”

  “Only a suggestion, sir,” Katie replied. “For what you suggested.” Yeah, we’re all only making suggestions here.

  “Any other suggestions, Miss Kincaid?” the Chief asked. “Maybe for an explanation of what happened here? A man died.”

  “Yes, sir, and I was an innocent bystander,” Katie answered. “I was talking to Foreman D’Souza over there by that pile of congregate when it happened. As for being trouble, I’m only doing another three weeks here and then I’m gone.”

  The Chief smiled thinly. Almost indulgently. Katie didn’t trust the expression for a minute. “You haven’t addressed the fact it was your work station that was obliterated,” he said. “You were lucky you didn’t suffer Mr. Applebaum’s fate.”

  Katie could only guess Applebaum had been Johnny’s last name. “I’ve been told over and over again accidents can happen on the line, sir. I was picking through the rock. I’ve no control over the rock deliveries. They’re supposed to come on a schedule. Warnings are supposed to sounded before each delivery. No way what happened was my fault.”

  “Yes, Foreman D’Souza was clear about the operating routine,” the Chief said. “I wasn’t suggesting you tried to kill yourself.”

  “Sir?”

  “You know Mr. Applebaum well, Miss Kincaid?” the Chief asked next.

  “Johnny was introduced to me along with the rest of the shift when I joined it,” Katie answered. “We never talked any other time. He was a quiet guy and hard working. Almost part of the scenery.”

  “So no hard feelings?”

  Katie wondered if they really thought she’d killed Johnny because she didn’t like him or something. “Nope, we didn’t interact at all, but I never sensed any dislike. He seemed like an okay guy.” Which was more than she could say about some of her co-workers, but the Chief didn’t need to hear that.

  “They’re standard questions, Miss,” the Chief said. “Most deaths that aren’t accidental are the result of people who know each other and aren’t getting along. So the standard procedure checks for that first.”

  It occurred to Katie that it was almost certainly not standard procedure to explain the procedure to witnesses or suspects. The Chief was indulging the curiosity she had a reputation for. Perhaps she should reciprocate the consideration. Perhaps that was the Chief’s intent. Heavens, people gave her a headache.

  A uniformed officer came up to them with a pair of clear plastic bags with what looked like lengths of chain in them. The Chief took them. “Thanks, Bob,” he said before examining the metal within them. The officer remained, patiently waiting.

  “Could have snapped after corroding naturally,” the Chief said.

  The officer leaned in and pointed at the end of one bit of metal. “See the flat bits through the pitting?” he asked.

  “Yes, I see. It's more likely someone cut part way through with a saw and then applied acid to hide the fact and finish the job,” the Chief said. “The Lab will have a better idea,” he said, handing the evidence back to the officer who walked off.

  The Chief turned to Katie. “You catch that?” he asked.

  “You don’t think it was an accident?” Katie asked.

  “No, and you’re not to share that insight,” the Chief said. “You’re a very lucky young woman.”

  “Unlike Johnny,” a nearby officer muttered.

  The Chief threw him a quelling glance. “That wasn’t precision work. It could have snapped any time within several hours.”

  “Usually do an eight-hour shift with a few short breaks,” Katie said. The Chief doubtless knew that. She was talking to fill air time. It was disconcerting. The Chief was right, the odds were she should be dead. Crushed beneath a load of rock.

  “You know anyone who might want to kill you?” the Chief asked.

  “No,” Katie answered. She wasn’t that annoying.

  “Anyone on the line that you’ve annoyed or crossed paths with at all?”

  Katie thought of Billy, but Billy wasn’t on the line. “No,” she said, “folks here mostly aren’t really happy to see me, I’m afraid. They tolerate me, though. Some have been helpful. I’ve been careful to keep my head down and not irritate anyone. Haven’t cheesed off anyone I know of.”

  “Glad to hear it,” the Chief said. Katie couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “You do have a reputation for being smart and rather nosy. Is there anything you might have noticed that someone might have been worried you’d report?”

  “Nothing worth killing someone over,” Katie said.

  One of the uniformed officer
s nearby snorted. They were quite the chorus, she couldn’t help thinking.

  “If you’re thinking of supervisors getting little bribes in exchange for plum assignments, you’re right,” the Chief said. “It’s not much more than office politics. Practically speaking there’s not much we can do about it. So if you’d ratted someone specific out, or lodged a general complaint, there’d have been hard feelings. You didn’t though. And nobody would want to up the ante by arranging a fatal accident even if you had.”

  Katie hesitated before speaking. “I’m surprised you’re willing to be so explicit about that, sir,” she said.

  “Part of your reputation, Miss Kincaid,” the Chief answered, “is that you don’t take hints well. That you need things spelled out for you. I’m trying to elicit your co-operation here. Somebody tried to kill you. If you have any idea who or why you should share with me.”

  Katie thought of all the different people she’d encountered the last couple of weeks. They’d all seemed willing to live and let live in a grudging sort of way. She’d been careful not to upset anyone, and she believed she’d succeeded. She shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone or any reason,” she said.

  The Chief grunted. “Anything comes to you don’t hesitate to get a hold of me,” he said, handing her a card. “Finally, you’re going to be sixteen in less than a month, right?”

  Was the Chief going to wish her Happy Birthday Katie wondered. “Yes, sir,” she answered.

  “After this I would have advised you to cease working on the processing line anyways,” the Chief said.

  “Sir, I have to complete my work here if I’m to satisfy Commander Tretyak and get my application to the Academy endorsed.”

  “Yes, I’m going to talk to the Commander about that,” the Chief said. “He’s often complained to me that shipping law allows family operated ships to use children in roles they’re too young for. He doesn’t seem to have realized that the processing line here on Ceres falls under UN Earth labor laws.”