I'm up way past my bedtime, but it's no fun. Since Dad and I got to the moon, I haven't beensleeping so much.I keep having the same dream.The one where Mom gets all eaten by the nanites, Dad's experimental bugs that everyone likes but me.

And then there are the other bad dreams that really aren't dreams at all. In one the mean kids – the Trongs – all chase me and beat me up, and then I kind of shift back to the really bad dream, where the bugs are eating me. When I finally get to sleep, that's usually when I hear Dad yelling out, and he wakes me up, and I lie there in the dark, listening to the sounds of the air pumps, the hum of machines, and I just have this terrible feeling inside that the morning is going to come, and then I'll have to go to school, until finally, my eyelids feel so heavy.

The lights come on slowly, like a winter dawn back in Metoronto. I hear Dad up, and making breakfast, and I get up, because he hates it when he has to make me get ready for school.

I hate Luna One. It was supposed to be fun, but I hate it. And I can't get Dad to understand. "Isn't it time for school?" he asks me, as he tries to get his bloodshot eyes to read the morning newsplass. He doesn't notice that I'm not wearing my special suit. I hate that too.

"Yeah."

"Well, better be off then. Don't want to make a bad impression by being late in your first week here." He's said that every morning since we arrived, and I guess it's true. I don't want everyone to think I'm some gormy Earth kid that doesn't even know what time it is. Maybe today will be different. Maybe they won't pick on me.

School's okay, but afterwards they're waiting for me outside of Lock 12 – the whole city is underground and filled with tunnels and corridors and passages and these airlock places. And just like yesterday, they're waiting for me.

They call themselves the Trongs, and the leader of their gang is Jordan Alvarez; Jordan is a 13-year-old meany who is the son of a pair of permanent colonists, lifers. Jordan is hanging upside down from the airlock by his toes, as if it is the easiest thing in the world. My teacher, Ms. Deach, says that gravity on the Moon is less than a sixth of the Earth, but I'm still impressed – at least I'd be impressed if he wasn't such a jerk.

"Where ya scuttlin' Earthworm!" Jordan taunts.

The other Trongs crowd behind him, their weird long bodies blocking the passage behind their upside-down leader.

Everyone is about my age, ten-and-a-half, except for Jordan and his brown-nose sidekick Curtis. He's almost as ugly as Jordan. But they are all way taller than me, and Jordan's almost as tall as Dad. I think it's the only good thing about living here. It makes you tall fast. I'd kill to be that tall. Jordan lets go of the door with his toes, falls easily to the floor, and flips forward with his hands.

To be that graceful.

All of these Trongs are moon kids, born and raised. Dad says they mass less, which is a fancy way of saying they're not as heavy. They've grown differently from me, in ways that give them longer, more graceful arms and legs, ways that give them every advantage and me none.

Jordan flashes a hand sign to the others – there are six of them today in addition to Curtis – and they move in for the kill. They chant as they get closer, "Earth WORM, earth WORM, earth WORM." It's rhythm that makes me hate them even more, and it even scares me a bit, now. You see, I got in a lot of fights back in Metoronto when Mom died, so Dad sent me to a special trainer. I know all these cool ways of defending myself, but it doesn't work so good here.

Until we landed on Luna, I'd never lost a fight after I my karate training. And it ticks me off. All I have to do is land one good one and these spindly freaks would leave me alone! Just like what happened at home.

Jordan moves in first, and this time, I wait for him to attack before I react, 'cause that's how he always gets me. I get off balance real easy. But I do it again, and somehow the suck-face just pushes me enough to send me skittering backwards. It feels like I'm falling down so I jump ahead, sail through the air, and nearly brain myself on the airlock. I land just beyond the Trongs, but before I can catch my breath and run away, they are around me again.

The younger Trongs dance and jeer, swirling around me in a sea of bright primary-colored skinsuits. After the younger kids finish seeing who can get the most punches in on my arm or leg in one pass Jordan moves in for the for the kill. Today the final attack is mercifully short. I'm so mad, but I'm totally wiped. Each time those scrawny kids dance by me, I try to strike at their solar plexuses, knees, whatever, just like I was taught. My balance is all off. I watch Jordan approach warily; the lunie moves with grace, but his face is a mish-mash and ugly – nose too big, eyes too close together and a weak chin that disappears into his chicken neck. I try to play possum, and hold my hands.

"What's wrong Manfred? Worm-Fed can't take it?" Jordan cackles.

The others, led by that nasty Curtis, who has a thin, reedy voice, join up the call: "Worm-Fed, Worm- Fed!"

Jordan saunters closer, and I leap again, timing it so that I'll hit Jordan in the chest. The sucking gravity messes it all up. I zoom over their heads again when Jordan slips to the side, slapping me on the face as I fly past. I'm all uncoordinated and I land hard, and everything fades out for a moment; though I can hear the slap slap of barefoot Trongs running away from me, the distant sound of scornful laughter.

"You're never going to learn are you, Wormy?" says a voice in the gloom.

The blackness fades, and then I can focus, and for a moment, I figure it's another Trong stayed behind for one more slap. I can still feel the sting on my cheek. Instead, I realize it's the pretty red-haired girl with the bright green eyes from my class, kneeling next to me. I don't cry. But I can feel it trying to get out. She looks away, real nice-like, and I pull it together.

"Come on Wormy," she says softly, "getting' angry isn't going to help you."

"What will?" My eyes burn. "I can't even touch them. They just ... dance all around me."

"You have to learn, just like I did."

""Learn what?"

"How to do things here." The pretty girl sits beside me and says: "My name's Tina. Tina Cadacus. My Mom is the Chief Medical Officer," she says proudly.

"So you are a lifer?"

"Yep. Been here two years now," says Tina.

"So you remember what it is like on Earth?"

"Oh yeah, but I like it here a lot more. Come on, get up. Remember. Gently."

Good thing she says it. I almost launch myself upright like the orbital plane Dad and me took to Kennedy Space Station. But Tina's hand holds me down. She is only a little taller than me, probably more because she is older than because she is a lifer.

"Thanks, my name's Manfred Acteon. But I like to be called Manny. That's what my Mom used to call me." Her little Manny.

"Where is she?"

"Oh, she died. Dad's nanobugs killed her."

Tina is quiet for a moment. But she doesn't get that sucky sympathy look on her face. I like her. "My Daddy died when I was real little. I don't remember him. Come on. Let's go back to the school, and then, then I'll show you another way home."

"But there isn't any other way!"

"Sure there is. Dumb Wormy."

"Don't call me Wormy."

"Okay. Dumb ... Manny." She says it in a nice way, so I don't say anything. Besides, I kinda like the way she is still holding my hand.

We get back to the school where another group of kids are gathered. For a bad moment, I think it might be more Trongs waiting for me, that they sent Tina to get me again. But they look a little different from the Trongs. They all have skinsuits, but their colors are different, with lots of different colors. More fun. Most of the kids are shorter too, with bigger muscles.

"These are the Drins," Tina explains. "They're my friends, and if you can learn how to live on Luna One and help, they can be your friends too."

The tallest of them comes forward and puts her fist on my shoulder. Weird. Like some kind of gangthing from home. She is real pretty, and I'd say she's about three years older than me. Her teeth almost shine from a light brown face, just like a girl I knew in Metoronto who came from Brazil. It's an easy smile to like, and her brown eyes kind of sparkle.

"I'm Jess. If you can pass the tests, then you will be a Drin. Tina will be your Initiator." With that, the smile disappears, and the other Drins, all of them, turn their backs on me.

As Tina takes me away, I say, "That was weird."

"That's how we do it. We have to look out for one another, and we make sure that everyone can pull their weight when they're here. Especially someone like you, Dumanny." She grins.

"What's that mean?"

"That's your name isn't it? Dumanny?"

"Just Manny! Besides, I'm not staying at this stupid city forever."

My Dad is a Nanotechnology Architect. He brought us to Luna One for a one-year contract; he says that's about as long as the human body can live in the reduced gravity of the Moon without having permanent changes, like the stuff that's happened to the Trongs. A year seems like forever, but at least I know I will be able to go back to the Earth.

"It's not stupid. Here, I'll show you."

Tina takes me up a hidden ladder about three corridors away from Lock 12. At the top of the ladder is an access tube. She takes out a cool power multitool and unlatches the opening to the tube. "After you," she says and I crawl into the tube. It seems cramped, but it's wide enough for us to crawl along side-by-side. Tina shows me how to close the hatch after we're in the tube. There's a magnetic thingy that lets you do it so that it's closed from the corridor.

While we crawl along, Tina explains: "You'll have to change the access tunnels you use from dayto- day, 'cause the Trongs will figure out that you're using these to avoid them. But there aren't too many Trongs, so you should be able to do it. Besides, in here you're going to have the advantage."

"Why's that?" I ask.

Tina squeezes my arm. "Muscle power will actually help you 'cause they won't be able to avoid you."

"Ohhhh."

We get out of the access tunnel about two corridors from the apartment. She watches me close the hatch from the outside, and then lets me keep the multi-tool.

"I'll want it back when you don't need it any more Dumanny." I don't say anything, 'cause she gives me a peck on the cheek. I can feel myself blushing. If my two friends back in Metoronto saw that, they would give me a hard time. She lopes off in the moongait that

I wish I could do too.

Dad is waiting for me when I come in, and oh boy, he looks pretty angry. He holds up the pressure suit that I didn't put on that morning, hoping it would help me move a bit better and hit that suck-faced Jordan.

"Manfred Acteon," he says. He only uses

"Manfred" when I'm in trouble. "I expect you have a reasonable explanation for this?" Dad grew up in Germany, so he says "reeson-abull". Longer. So it sounds like I'm in real trouble.

The pressure suit is different from all the other kids'. Instead of being cool, thin, and multicolored   material it's real thick, like an old wetsuit I had to wear when I went white-water rafting with Mom and Dad. And it's grey. Dad had his tiny little robots – he calls them "nanotailors" – make this thing so that it feels more like I'm in Earth's gravity. It is real heavy and I can't move in it. The stupid thing makes me even more gormy, makes it easier for those Trongs to get me!

"I don't want to wear it!"

"Manfred. You will wear it."

He stares at me, and I stare right back at him.

Mom used to sort these things out, but since she died, it hasn't been much fun with Dad.

"Tell you what, Manfred. We can get the nanotailors to paint it any colors you want, how's that?"

"I can't move in that thing. I don't care what sucking color it is."

"I've told you about that kind of language, Manny. Your mother never would have approved of it, and you know it. You go to your room until you're ready to apologize."

I hate it when he says that. It's true but it's not fair. It's not my fault she died, and I just wish she was here! I don't care if I change. I want to be more like the Trongs, like the Drins.

I stomp off to my room, and wish there was a regular door to slam, just like at the house back on Earth.

Dad has kind of a sad look on his face, and I wonder if he wishes Mom was here as much as I do – she could always straighten these fights out. But I don't come out of my room to apologize. I can't wear that thing or they'll really get me! I do my homework.

And then I play space-hockey on holo ...

I guess I must have fallen asleep, 'cause the next thing I know, I'm in my bed, and it's morning again. And Dad has taken all my clothes away, leaving me only the pressure suit, still grey, and some underwear. I'm really hungry, 'cause I missed dinner. When I get to breakfast, Dad says, "You can still get it any color you want, but you have to wear it. It's for your own good. If you don't wear it you'll end up too weak when we get back to Earth. I'm wearing mine. You know, if they perform as well as I think they will, everyone who visits Luna One will wear them someday. Imagine that Manny." He smiles, trying to get me to say something. "Soon people may be able to stay for two years at a time. Who knows, some day we may even make it possible for the poor lifers to return to Earth!"

I don't say anything. I give him the stare, try to imagine him giving in, giving me my regular clothes back, but nothing happens. I eat my cereal, and stomp out of the apartment. Will those Trongs be waiting for me before school again? Or would it be after? Then I remember Tina's multi-tool, and rush back to my room to collect it. Dad is taking his weekly shower; he calls it a perk, part of his employment contract with Luna One. He doesn't hear me return, grab the tool, and head to school.

It takes me way longer than Tina to open the access hatches, but I crawl through as fast as I can.

I'm late for class anyway. Jordan Alvarez mouths the words: "WORM-fed," as the teacher, Ms. Deach, who seems pretty nice, say that lateness is not acceptable, no matter how slow my clothes make me move. The rest of the class, including Tina, Jess and the other Drins, laugh. I can feel my face getting red, and think maybe Ms. Deach isn't so nice after all.

But at recess, things are different. Instead of standing alone at the sidelines while everyone plays their weird moon games in the park near the school, Tina takes me by the arm, and leads me to a part away from everyone else.

"Okay Dummany," she smiles, and I don't mind the nickname.

"Now we're going to 'splain you how to move around in moonspace. And not wallowing around like some newbie just landed."

"Explain to me," I correct. Mom always said that it was right to speak good ... properly, I mean.

"Yeah, you can be a brain when you can walk properly. Now do what I do." Tina shows me how to control my walk, to lengthen and shorten my stride, to balance properly. It's really hard work, trying to make your legs do something that they don't want to. We practiced all through recess, and then after school too.

Tina gets a little frustrated, because I'm having trouble. And I try to explain that my pressure suit is applying way more gravity on me than she gets from the moon. "I'm not complaining," I say, "just 'splaining."

"Keep trying. If you can learn this," said Tina, "then Jess will let you be a Drin."

"What's a Drin, anyway?"

"We're the Smart Ones. Trongs are just the ones who got here first – who are born here – but they think that makes them better. We know different."

"What if I don't want to be a Drin?"

"Then I'll stop 'splainin' you how to walk and you can just go suck. And give me back my multi-tool too!"

"No. No, please," I say. "It was just a question. I like it."

"If you're going to be a Drin you gotta know the talk and the rules. After you learn to walk, I'll teach you the signs too. But only after Jess says you're in." And the lessons continue, day by day, with me using Tina's multi-tool and back routes through the access tunnels to avoid the Trongs.

Each day, I'd return home and practice some more before Dad cooked dinner.

One day I say: "Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah son?"

"This suit is actually pretty cool."

"Really? I thought you hated it. You know, we can still color it any way you want. We can even get it to change color all the time."

"Maybe, once the Drins think I'm cool. I'll keep it grey until then. I kind of like the way it's making me so strong.

You know, Tina winced the other day when I squeezed her arm."

"Manny, you've got to be careful. That suit will make you considerably stronger than the other children."

"I wasn't trying to hurt her, I was just playing."

But after that he doesn't say anything. He seems to be really quiet all the time now. He doesn't even get mad at me. I think he must be having bad dreams too, 'cause I can hear him yelling at night. I don't know why – he says everything is good with his mine on the surface of the moon. He's using bugs like the ones that killed Mom.

Yeah, he's quiet, just like after Mom got killed. I show him some of the cool tricks I'm learning from Tina.

"Look Dad. See, even in the suit I can stand on my toes. Look. Neat, eh?"

He looks up and says, "Very good. What else can you do?"

"Tina taught me how to do this one-armed handstand. It's easy, and I can even push off a bit." I show him and he looks happy for a minute. I can do a vertical leap of a foot, using only the power of my arm. I'm staying strong for when we get back to Earth.

After Mom got killed, I was in a lot of fights, almost every day. The other kids made fun of me because everyone knew Mom died and because it was so weird and everything. I was in trouble until some of my teachers told Dad that they were picking on me. But once I got the karate training, everyone left me alone. Bullies aren't interested in picking on kids they can't beat up or scare. But I sometimes think there might have been a better way to do it. Something that didn't require fists.

"So how is the testing, Dad?"

Dad seems really happy that I asked about his work. Probably because I don't usually do it.

"We've been testing the nanite-miners on a crater floor near the South Hangar. So far they've performed well. We're mining a great deal of tritium from the regolith already."

"What's a regolith?"

"The regolith: it's what we call the surface of a planet. All the earth material above the bedrock. The nanites are breaking the tritium out so we can use it as fuel for fusion. They're doing a great job, which means we may leave the moon sooner."

"I hope they work just as good as the suit. Thanks Dad!" I leave the breakfast nook, and run out the door for another day of training with Tina, but no school because it's the weekend.

It's so good to see Dad talking again. As I'm running down the corridor in my best moongait, it feels like I'm forgetting something.

The multi-tool. The back route!

I remember too late. The Trongs are waiting for me, at Lock 12. "WORM-fed, WORM-fed," they chant as soon as they spot me. Jordan signals to the other Trongs – about a dozen this time – and they move in for their dance of a hundred punches.

I try not to be scared. I repeat, over and over, the main rule that Tina told me: "Step softly, step softly." I wait for them to come at me.

They can sense that something's changed and Jordan is careful. He sends the youngest after me first, testing my coordination. A few of the younger Trongs, both boys and girls, are able to touch me, but they don't want to get close enough to punch me. My fists are flying dangerously close to them.

Jordan signals them to back off, and tells his older Trongs, four 12-year-old boys and two girls of the same age, to circle me. They do, silently led by Curtis this time. The brown-noser looks worried, as he tries to get close enough to me to punch my arm.

They are scared! Just like the times I got the bullies back home.

"What's wrong, Suck-face? Don't like it when you can't dance all around me?" I taunt Jordan. I've been in enough fights to know the key is to make the leader look gormy, not necessarily fighting him.

Jordan sneers at me, and moves in to hit me, so he doesn't look like a loser to the rest of the Trongs. It is a mistake not using the other Trongs that are in place to keep me off-balance. I keep on my toes and watch while Jordan does a forward flip over my head and lands behind me. Jordan kicks me in the rear as hard as he can, knocking me forward. I keep stepping softly, and I can turn around as I fall. I slip forward, just a real light push with one leg, and find myself face-to-ugly face with Jordan. Then I let Jordan have a real hard one right in the solar plexus. I do the karate shout and everything.

There is a terrible crack, and Jordan flies backwards, a look of shock and pain on his face. When he lands on the ground, his body sort of flops for a bit, and then stops. The Trongs are silent as they stare at him, and then they run away; not that I blame them – that was a bad-ass punch, and they don't want any.

I won! I beat them!

Then I get a better look at Jordan's white face, the wicked bend in his limbs. The rush ends when I realize Jordan looks dead. But it can't be! I walk over, still playing Tina's "step softly" over-and-over in my head in case he's faking it. No. Jordan is definitely dead – he isn't breathing and his whole body just looks sort-of ... wrong.

Ohshitohshitohshitohshit ... I almost lose it like the Trongs, but I know that would be wrong. I walk to the airlock, and enter my communication code into the emergency intercom.

"Yes?"

"This is Manfred Acteon There's been an accident. Lock 12."

"What's happened? Is there decompression?"

"No! No. Jordan's hurt ... bad."

"Okay ... Manfred," says the operator on the other end calmly. "Medics will be there in a moment. Stay calm. Now, what does he look like?"

"He's not breathing, and his arms are kinda twisted ..." Nope. I'm gonna lose it too. Suck. I killed Jordan! What would they do to me? I can feel this hot   thing starting in my stomach, and I think I'm going to be sick. Then I realize that I have to get out of there. I almost hurt myself again as I start running like I was on Earth, but I manage to get up my arms and roll out of the fall. Then I run hard, but controlled – barely doing my moongait, on the edge of turning into my old newbie's lurch again.

I run until I get to a tunnel near the South Hangar, where Dad's team is based. The entrance to the hangar is guarded by an older colonist, an cranky lifer named Zachary something. But the old man is asleep, so I run past to get into the hangar itself, where I hope to hide. But it doesn't look so good. The space all seems well used to me, with everything looking clean and bright. The only parts of the hangar that are empty are the parking places for the vehicles that Dad and his team use. Then I hear voices near the entrance to the hangar, and I look for an escape. I spot the airlock, and an emergency pressure suit nearby.

The suit is one of those standard ones we trained with, so I know how to put it on, but there's no way I can wear Dad's special suit underneath. I make sure the oxygen canister is full, and check the utility belt. I put on the helmet and start cycling the lock. My own code won't work, but I've watched Dad do it enough times to know his. When it does that, I stick my special suit into a darkened corner of the lock.

Within a minute, I'm outside of the hangar, looking up at the steep walls of the tunnel leading to the surface. I don't really have a plan. Maybe I'll hide here until the others leave the hangar and then get back inside. As I look at the rough-cut walls, and the smooth road leading up to the moonscape, I feel pretty scared. It's hard to believe there is no air outside, but it's sure easy to believe it's more than 200 degrees below in the darkness. The only light spills from the tiny window in the airlock, and the star-glow at the end of the tunnel. The fear tightens in my chest, squeezing the breath out of me in short ragged bursts. Then the lock starts to cycle again. Suck, they know I'm out here! Before I realize what's happening, I'm flying up the tunnel towards the surface, looking for a better place to hide.

The surface is bathed in the light of the Earth, which has just risen over the horizon. It looks blue and white, and though not as bright as even the moon would be on Earth, it makes the moonscape real spooky. It feels like I'm in a dream or something. But I don't stop to watch. I run as fast as the moongait lets you, escaping from them. Without the extra tension on me from Dad's suit, I can really go! I run across the grey desert until my suit starts to overheat, the bubble of air around me spiking in temperature; a fine mist, and then drops start to form in my helmet. I have to slow down! My breathing seems pretty weird, coming in little gasps and echoing inside my helmet. I notice that I'm climbing to the top edge of a big crater. Left behind billions of years ago. The sand under me is hard, like concrete; I thought it would be soft like real sand, but it's all jagged and pieces of the stuff bruise my feet through the soft footcoverings of the emergency suit.

I climb to the rim of the crater, and look around me for the first time. I'm starting to feel a bit better. I can't see anyone behind me. But I can barely make out the dark smudge that marks the south entrance to Luna One. On the far side of the crater, I see some kind of tower – maybe for communications? I should have paid better attention to the orientation tour when we arrived.

The surface is totally cool. Magnificent. For the first time, I think I understand why everyone thinks Earth people are worms. To live here is really hard. It takes something special. I'm not sure I know what, but I shouldn't think about it now. Even in the dim Earthlight, they could spot me there. My suit works extra hard to drop the temperature and humidity from running. It makes a bad noise that comes up through the collar into the helmet. I remember something about them saying that emergency suits aren't designed for long-term vacuum use. Maybe I should turn around?

No, they're still behind me. I know what they'll do 'cause I killed Jordan – they'll take me to the doctors, and then put me in the home for bad kids. The joovee hall, it is called. Maybe there is an airlock and habitat at that communications tower? I decide to risk it, taking long moon leaps down the side of the crater, bouncing up every time I hit the ground. Without Dad's special nanosuit, it is almost like flying! I get to the bottom of the crater in no time.

Then I spot the workers at the other side of the crater, waving their arms at me. One of them runs forward awkwardly, and the others stop him. He thrashes like an Earthworm, and then I realize it must be Dad.

I stop moving. And then it's like the bad dreams. My heart beats like crazy, 'cause I know where I am – I'm in the experimental bug mine! Where are they? Would they eat me like Mom? That funny feeling comes up from my stomach, even worse than when I realize I'd killed Jordan; maybe I deserve to be eaten like Mom because of Jordan . . . Tears start streaming down my face, and I don't care. The suit makes more funny noise, probably 'cause I'm crying. A whimper of fear leaks from my lips, making virtually no sound. I suddenly realize that I'm paralyzed.

Dad is pointing at his helmet like a madman.

What? It's like the space-cold is making me think very slowly. Of course. Turn on my radio. That's what Dad means. I switch it on.

"Good boy Manny, good boy. Now don't move. They are closer to the center of the crater, making a spiraling pass of the circle. But movement could distract them – they exhibit hunter-like behavior sometimes ..."

I cry a bit, though I'm trying to be brave now.

"You'll be okay, son. You'll be okay," Dad says, but I can hear the weird sound in his voice. He's scared too.

Dad's guys move around to the other side of the circle, closer to where I am. Dad stays where he is, so I won't lose sight of him.

"Okay. Don't move Manny. We're going to figure out a way to get you free of the nanite zone. Chuck, switch to our code frequency."

Dad and the man in the suit called Chuck talk for a while, and it looks like they might be arguing. My suit continues its funny sounds, trying to drop the temperature and humidity.

I watch the regolith before me, and there's a little line of movement, probably where the nanites are.  Suddenly the fear-feelings are gone, and I feel real strange and calm – of course, this is how I can be with Mom. Besides, I deserve it. For what I did to Jordan. Maybe joovee isn't so bad. Then I also realize there probably isn't anyone really chasing me.

Dad and Chuck argue for a while longer, and they are interrupted by the arrival of more people at rim of the crater. Tina, Jess, and Jordan's Trong lieutenant, Curtis. They look at everything and ramble down the side of the crater with an ease that comes from being on the moon for a while.

Still listening, I can hear the guys warning the new arrivals of the danger – I walked into the experimental mine, and I'm going to be broken down by the nanites, molecule-by-molecule they say. At least, they say, my suit would be broken down first, all of the hydrogen atoms unstrung from the protective covering. One of them says: "The cold or vacuum will kill him before the 'nites can get to work on his tissues, though." That makes me cry a little more; I don't care what anyone thinks about me being scared. "Shut up you idiot!" Dad roars. "We need Manny thinking clearly, not frightened stiff."

In the back of all the voices, I can make out Tina's voice, trying to reach me. She screeches to be heard: "Manny, Jordan's going to be okay! We came to tell you. You didn't kill him!"

"But he is dead! I saw."

"Manny, the medics got to Jordan soon enough thanks to your distress call. Now calm down, and we'll get your Drin ass out of there," says Jess, who sounds really calm, like a pilot in a holo or something. Drin? Then I'd made it. I was in. Not that it matters now.

"Sheissesheissesheisse," I can hear Dad saying in German.

The nanites are coming closer. I can see the little swirl in the regolith as the bugs break down the molecules, just like the miner-guys say they'll do to me. A line of invisible workers must carry tritium back to a central container in the middle of the mine.

The line gets closer to me.

"Manny you have to get out of there!" Tina shouts into her helmet mike.

"If he moves they'll go for him!" Dad yells. "I've seen it before! I'll go. I'll distract them Manny. No! Let me go," he cries, as his guys hold him back, stop him from running into the mine.

Dad starts sobbing.

And then something happens to me. I realize that Dad hurts just as much as me 'cause Mom died. He shouldn't have to go through it again!

"I love you Dad. Don't be sad like with Mom." Dad really loses it, starts wailing, and then it's abruptly cut off when one of the miners turns off Dad's radio.

"Manny! You are going to have to jump!" Tina cries. "Use your Wormy strength. I know you have it!"

"Jump?"

"Yeah, as hard and as high as you can. Jump back towards us – it's not so far."

"Yeah, 'ya suckin' Drin," shouts Curtis, "I betya' Jordan could do it."

I grin at that. He knows damn well that Jordan couldn't do it. None of the other kids at school could. I'm the only one that might be able to make it. But the safe zone seems pretty far away.

"Hurry!" Tina shouts again.

The nanites are nearly here. I have an idea! I take off the utility belt, and throw it behind the line of miniature miners. The line stops advancing for a moment, to investigate, and then break down the equipment in the belt.

I bend my legs and curl down, ready for one giant leap backwards. Then I jump with every bit of strength I have, and throw my arms back, curling my back just like I was doing a back dive at the pool.

I totally take off!

It's like I'm really flying. The regolith falls under my feet, as I keep my back arched, and suddenly I'm going over, like it's a back flip. Am I going to make it though? I seem to be heading straight up. Then I can see the line of safety pass underneath me, the astonished 'o's of the mouths of my friends, the technicians, through the faceplates of their helmets as I tumble over them. It takes what seems like forever, and then I land, about two meters behind them all; I hit hard, dropping on my hands and knees.

Tina is right there, smiling at me. Jess follows, and she and Curtis lift me up by the arms, their grips reassuring and approving. "Only a Drin could do that," says Jess with pride.

Then Dad is there, crushing me in his arms. It's the first time he's hugged me since Mom died. And it is the first time I feel like everything is going to be okay.

The End

Originally published in Oceans of the Mind, Winter 2002 (Issue VI)
©2002 Mark A. Rayner