Martian Dawn

Part 2, Chapter 6: The Scrap Master

March 2051, Mars Year 52

Dawn poked her head tentatively into the machine shop. "Finn?"

At the moment, he didn't seem to be there. She wandered in. Finn was setting up a smelter for refining Martian ore when they found it. He'd already started experimenting with scrap metal, although there wasn't much of that. Most of the landing capsules themselves had been converted into habitat modules, and what was left over after that had been adapted as walls or gates for unpressurized structures.

Her eyes found the scrap pile, and she wandered in that direction. She had an idea, but wasn't quite sure exactly what she needed.

She picked through the pile until she found something that looked like a candidate. It was a sheet from the siding of the capsule they had disassembled to enlarge the power shack up on the ridge. She pulled that free of the pile with much crashing and banging. Raising it over her head with both hands, she carried it across the roo and bridged it between two workbenches. Glancing around the room, she found a wrench. Experimentally, she tapped on the sheet. With a jangling dissonant clang, it jiggled off one of the benches and clattered to the floor. Dawn jumped back in alarm.

"WHAT the HELL?" Finn bellowed, striding through the door.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Dawn shouted, with her hands in the air. "I won't touch anything else!"

"Why'd you touch anything in the first place?" Finn grumbled.

"I was wondering how hard it would be to make a steel drum, like from the Caribbean."

Finn spun around to focus on Dawn. "No!" he said, flatly. "Hell no!"

"What's the matter with steel drums?" Dawn asked. "I think they're pretty."

"They are!" Finn agreed. "When you're kicked back on a beach in Turks-Caicos, with a tall, cool drink in your hand, and a tall, cool..." He cut himself off. "Point is, a kid banging on a piece of sheet metal with a crescent wrench doesn't sound anything like steel drums, and if that's your plan, don't come back."

Dawn's eyes narrowed. "I'm not just going to bang on a piece of sheet metal. I got a plan off the Internet." She pulled a sheet of paper out of her backpack. "I'm going to make a drum. You know, my dad said to give you three weeks to recover from your trip, but you're still a dick. You need to check yourself."

Finn laughed at that. "Why, because I'm the only person on the planet who doesn't cater to your whims?"

"That's insulting, which is no surprise, because you're that way all the time with everyone. How did you even pass the psych eval?" Dawn spoke through gritted teeth. "We can't afford to have you walking around looking for a fight. We need to work together."

Finn rolled his eyes. "I bet you've been hearing that your entire life, haven't you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Dawn asked. "In case you haven't noticed, we live on the edge."

"Yeah, yeah," Finn agreed. "We've only each other to rely on. I get it. I just came from having this same talk with Michael, and I'm still a bit steamed from that conversation, so I apologize." His face contorted, as though at war with itself, and he added, "But I say what I think. I always have, and I'm not going to stop just so we can all sing Kumbaya. One of these days, what I think will be the one thing that saves all our lives."

Dawn waved him off and turned to leave. Finn chuckled, suddenly. "Psych eval, I like that."

He hopped across the room and snatched the paper from her hand. He examined it, carefully.

"You don't need to know how to make a damn drum," he told her, walking away with the plan. "You need to know how to play it. Get back on the 'Net, download an app, and learn music. Drums and any melodic instrument you want. Study in VR, so none of the rest of us have to listen to it. Show me you can keep a beat and a tune," he paused, like he was already regretting what he was about to say, "And maybe I can help you out with this."

Dawn ran out of the machine room, headed for her room. Finn turned to his workbench.