Space Rocks! Read Online Free Page B

conclude that asteroid mining is too unsafe to pursue any further. And even if they return, they will pick a different asteroid to mine. After all, there are millions of others in the solar system. Presumably with just as much iridium.”
    I could tell the crowd was coming around to Kalac’s way of thinking. Hudka still wasn’t convinced, though.
    â€œDoing nothing is not an option,” said Kalac. “The humans show no sign of leaving. Starting an open war with them is not an option either. We’ll lose. Using the Q-sik to create an asteroid-quake is the only way to avert disaster.”
    Kalac had made its case. It was done. And maybe it was right? Maybe the humans would declare their invasion a bust and go back to their little blue dot. I felt a sudden pang at the thought of the four laughing humans leaving our asteroid forever.
    No, I told myself, they’re just a bunch of gross two-eyed space invaders who don’t even belong here! Good riddance. Right?
    â€œDoes the Council,” said Loghoz, “wish to propose any other—”
    â€œYup! Over here, kid!” cried Hudka. Loghoz sank when it realized who was speaking.
    All eyes were now on us. I shrank from the attention. My grand-originator is a remarkable Xotonian, but it can also be an embarrassing one.
    Most believe that Hudka is the oldest living member of our race, though there is some debate on this point. Gatas always claimed that it was three days older, but Hudka disagreed. Strongly. Gatas had effectively lost the argument a while back, when it went completely deaf and could no longer hold its own in shouting matches with my grand-originator.
    Xotonians generally give Hudka a bit of respect for its advanced age. Hudka calls this the “not-dead-yet factor.” But it has never been in Hudka’s nature to tell others what they want to hear. And when you’ve been that outspoken for that long in a community as small as ours, you’ve already given everyone you’ve ever met several doses of opinion. In many ways, Hudka was now just a small, wrinkled vessel for opinions. And the older Hudka got, the louder those opinions became.
    â€œHudka, please,” said Loghoz, sighing.
    â€œDon’t you try to get high-thol’grazed with me, Loghoz. I was on the Council when you were still an egg sac!” said Hudka. Loghoz blinked.
    I looked to Kalac. My originator was straining to keep calm.
    â€œHudka, you are no longer a Council member,” said Kalac in an overly measured tone. “We cannot have every—”
    â€œAw, not this one again,” said Hudka to the crowd. “Kalac, didn’t you just blather on for an hour? I wouldn’t know. I think I fell asleep right after you started talking!”
    Nervous laughter from the crowd. They were torn. A lot of them thought Hudka was a nutty old crank, but the spirit of a Conclave is democratic. Anyone who has an idea should be able to share it.
    â€œIf the Council agrees, Hudka may address the Conclave,” said Loghoz at last. “All in favor?”
    Four thol’grazes went up—three grudgingly. Only Sheln seemed particularly eager to hear Hudka out. It clearly just wanted Kalac to be publicly embarrassed by its own originator.
    â€œAll opposed?”
    Only one thol’graz. Kalac’s, of course.
    â€œBy a vote of four to one, the Council resolves to allow Hudka to address the Conclave,” said Loghoz. “But please, Hudka, try to keep it brief and to the point.”
    â€œThank you, Loghoz. You’re smarter than you look, and don’t ever let anybody tell you different,” said Hudka. Loghoz blinked again.
    â€œFirst off,” said Hudka, enjoying the attention, “iridium.” Suddenly Sheln was the one who looked nervous.
    â€œThis mushroom-head had the cergs to stand up here in front of all of you and say that the humans are going to take all of our iridium and leave us poor