TING!
The tip of the pickaxe hit the rock and barely penetrated two millimeters. Vimov was pushed a step from the recoil, repressed a grunt, tightened his grip on the wooden handle and swung again.
TING!
TING!
TING!
…
“This… planet…” He gasped and continued. “It’s nothing like Ercas Mir… Maybe… it’s just the rocks… in the Seventh… Post… Either way… We must work!”
He tried to be a role model for the inactive Zax and the impassive Nulivs, as well all those others Ercas Mir’s survivors in tunnel No.9.
“Will I get something to eat if I’d work?” Nulivs inquired, tilting her head to make eye contact with Vimov.
TING!
“I’ll get… You food”. Vimov reassured.
TING!
Without saying a word, Nulivs picked up her pickaxe and began to mine.
“Old man… I felt your body when I help you… It’s exceptionally resilient, so… ……
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