"There's something i want to ask you to do," he said, "if you don't want to do it, i understand."

"ok." i said.

"Of course, if you say no i will cut out your intestines with a chain saw," he said.

you always know where you stand with Sparky, you gotta give him that.

He smiled. "this next phase -- beaver moon -- is coming, and i want to ask you to take care of something for me." His eyes darted over to the corner of his office at an orange and white box with a word written across it: Husqvarna. i studied the picture on the box.

"sure, anything Sparky, you know i am a team player."

He lit his fat cigar from the lighter he keeps on his desk, a pewter skull, and he took a deep drag on it. Sparky inhales his cigars.

"We've neglected something for years, here in the lab, and I got some bad news from Sam this morning." He held his cigar out in front of him, turned crosswise between us, and rolled it in his fingers. He looked up at the ceiling. i knew this was just a show for me, he never does anything he hasn't thought through completely... but he wanted me to think he was having some internal debate about whether or not to tell me the next part. i just waited. i know better than to interrupt his performances.

He leaned forward, "I'm not proud to tell you this," he said, "but our supply of Karma is completely exhausted. we're done. we're out of it. the tanks are dry. zero." I snuck a quick look over on his shelf where i knew he kept a bottle of vintage Karma from Balaclava, an 1854. it was still there, unopened.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows riding high on his forehead, and stuck the cigar back in his face. it had the diameter of the handle of a louisville slugger. He looked at me, his eyes lidded, inscrutable.

"...and we didn't have insurance?" i probably shouldn't have asked him, but i always like taking my shots at Sparky when he has to take them standing up. He shook his head.

"Rich let it expire." He spit a fleck of tobacco off to his left. Rich had been our last Karma Manager, one day last summer he turned up missing and nobody has seen him since. there are two theories about it -- one that he stole half the Karma on the moon and won the lottery, the other that he fell in a crevasse trying to escape a dream that all the Karma in the tanks had evaporated when he left a valve open. Sparky never replaced him -- this was the first time i had heard him even mention Rich's name since then.

"and you want me to.... what?" I said.

"I want you to go get some. the best you can, we need it to be good, we need a lot of it -- all you can find, and we need it soon. you have until the next new moon. the truck is in the shop, we're fitting it with high-compression tanks, new shocks and tires, changing all the belts and fluids, checking the seals.

(it's customary on the moon to take seals along on any long excursion, they bring luck, they're good company, and it's fun to watch them barking and balancing balls on their nose in the rest stops.)

I looked at the box again.

"sounds fantastic!! when do i leave?"

"Next week," he said. "pack your massage oil and your pastels. I don't want you to miss a single opportunity." He smiled but his eyes glittered and i couldn't miss his meaning.

"Sparky," I said, "i'll need help, it takes two people to fill those tanks."

"Yeah. Daffodil is going with you. She volunteered. Just like you did." He blew some smoke in my direction. I was just sitting there, looking at the