Mazer set the holopad aside and got down on his knees, taking her hand. "Kim Arnsbrach. Will you be my wife and have my children and teach me to be as strong as you and smart as you and good as you?"
She pursed her lips, as if considering his offer. "I'm not sure. I've never much liked the last name Arnsbrach, but Rackham doesn't sound much better."
His heart fell for a moment, but then she smiled and said, "But we all must make sacrifices, I suppose. I have one condition."
"Anything."
"I want a Maori wedding."
He stood and took her in his arms and kissed her right there in the open for all the world to see.
CHAPTER 27
Belt
There was a line of applicants waiting outside the office when Victor arrived. He had posted a job opening on the free-miner nets the day before, but he had not expected to get such a big turnout. He needed three men, the post had said. All mechanics, preferably with experience retrofitting a salvage ship. They needed to be healthy and fit and willing to commit to at least four months on the job, not counting travel time to the Belt. If they proved themselves a valuable asset, they could possibly earn a crew position, but no promises were made.
He had rented a small office at one of the public docks on Luna. The room number had been included on the post. The interviewing wasn't supposed to begin for another half hour, but there was no need to keep everyone waiting. The office was bare except for a small wooden table--scratched and worn from decades of use--and two metal chairs.
The first applicant claimed to be eighteen years old, but he looked fourteen at the most.
"Have you ever installed a D-class laser or one of higher grade?" Victor asked.
"No, sir. But we had D on our ship."
"What ship was that?"
"Hermes's Wings. The Greek Greats Clan. Do you know the one?"
Victor shook his head. "Where's your ship now?"
The boy was holding his hat in his hands. He looked down at it and wrung it nervously. "Gone, sir. Battle of the Belt."
"You don't have to call me 'sir.' How is it that you survived?"
The boy wouldn't look him in the eye. "The morning we decoupled from the depot and set out, I ... uh, I missed the ship, sir."
His family wouldn't have left him behind. He had probably run away when they docked, knowing they would soon set off to war. Victor felt sorry for the kid, but he wasn't offering jobs out of sympathy, especially to anyone who would abandon his family. Still, the kid needed work the same as anyone. "I can't promise you they'll hire you, but there's a Juke ship called the Valas. A cargo freighter. They may be looking for hands. I know the captain. You can tell her I sent you."
The boy scoffed. "Work for a corporate? Never."
"Those days are over," said Victor. "Free miners and corporates, we work together now. That is, unless you want to go hungry."
The boy's expression fell, humbled. "I beg your pardon, sir. Very grateful for the help. Yes, I'll visit the Valas. Very kind."
Victor gave him the information and sent him on his way. The other applicants came in one by one, but none of them fared much better than the first. Some were in their sixties. Another kept coughing throughout the interview as if he had some upper-respiratory disease. Several were fathers and husbands and asked if they could bring their wives and children along. Victor took their information and told them he'd contact them if they got the job. The truth was, he needed husbands for the survivors of El Cavador as much as he needed mechanics. If they were going to be a thriving family again, some of the women would have to remarry. He couldn't say that on the job posting, however. Wanted: Handsome men of honest disposition willing to marry one of eighteen widows and adopt all of her children. Spanish speakers preferred.
He was beginning to despair after hours of interviews when Imala came into the room.
"Imala. I've been calling you for days, ever since I left the clinic. I must have left half a dozen messages."
"I've had a lot on my mind." She sat in the chair opposite him.
He didn't know what to say. "It's great to see you. I want to see you. But ... I'm in the middle of something. I'm interviewing people. But maybe I could get another chair. You could help me. I'd like to know what you think."
"I'm here for the interview, Vico."
"What? You mean you're applying?"