Craggy 2: Another Last Flight for Craggy by Gary Weston Page A

it easily enough. We've had a long day. I say we get some sleep and tackle it fresh.'
    'Good idea. I'm off to bed, then,' said Dillow.
    'There are sleeping rooms on this ship?' Anna asked.
    'Yes,' said Stella. 'Four. Fitted out for human sized people.'
    'Oh. There's five of us. It's okay. I'll sleep in here.'
    'No need,' said Stella, 'Breezy and I will share a room.'
    'I can't expect you to do that.'
    The four younger women shared knowing smiles.
    'The least we can do is make our guest comfortable,' said Breeze. 'Time for bed.'
    Hiding their smiles, Stella and Breeze took off to share a room. The lights were dimmed, and off they went for a well earned rest.

Chapter 39
    M arcia Potts shared her husband's burden. She undertook her own responsibilities stoically. In many ways, Marcia's work was similar to those of his. Keeping Mars functioning. Years before, they had least got the option of working in with Earth and Moon. In her unofficial capacity as the “hoarder of Mars” a title she was proud of, she traded, swapped, begged, borrowed, even stole if she had to, to prepare for the inevitability when the Earth finally succeeded in the ignoble art of self destruction. She could see it clearly, when most around her buried their heads in sands of either the grey or reddish brown persuasion. But the cupboard was almost bare.
    Marcia's “cupboard” was actually a sealed hanger. It once had boasted complete vehicles, hundreds of containers of clothing, thousands of various tins, and packets of foodstuffs, relics of bygone ages to remind them of their parent planet, tons of spare parts, and containers of obscure, but ultimately useful items. Daily, she would take her recpad with the list of requests from people, to ferret through the items to fulfill their wishes.
    She prided herself of an eighty percent strike rate. But that was then, and this was now. She was lucky to have a fifteen percent hit these days. There was a significant bounty of goods to be re-utilised after the great migration of Moon folk to their new homes on Mars. But the ever growing population had gradually depleted it.
    Marcia sighed as she stood in the barren wastelands that was now her hanger. There were days she didn't set foot in the place at all, because of the depression she now felt on doing so. But today was different. Today was special. It was a little girl's birthday. A special present was desired. She looked at her recpad, adjusting the brightness for the dim light in the hanger.
    'To Mrs Potts,' she read aloud. 'We have a birthday soon for Sapphire Stone. Tragically, Sapphire's parents were killed during the volcanic eruption, two years ago. Sapphire unfortunately lost her left leg but survived and has a wonderful disposition and never complains of her disability. If there is any possibility of an old fashioned teddy bear you could spare, this would bring much joy to a brave little girl. Sapphire never asks for much, but I know how such a simple present for her fourth birthday would mean to her. Thank you, Iva Hart, supervisor of the community orphanage.'
    Marcia felt a solitary tear trickle down her cheek. She knew of little Sapphire, and had once watched her play boisterously with the other children, not letting her disability slow her down one iota. In her own innocent way, Sapphire Stone represented Mankind's battle on their new world to beat the odds and survive.
    'Sapphire. If I have to pull this place apart with my bare hands, I'll find you a teddy bear.'
    Four exhausting hours later, Marcia struck gold. Or at least a golden furred teddy bear. It had one ear missing and one beady eye hung solemnly down on its cheek, wobbling grotesquely. It had been found in one of the few unopened containers, hidden behind piles of off-cut timber. Marcia Potts had gasped with delight at the treasure chest of toys. She counted them. Thirty seven items in hopefully repairable condition. She repacked the container with the various toys, and closed the lid, all