'There is no shortage of bad ways to die. I have had great times doing this job, but it is best to be honest about the risks. I have heard them say that being in the marines is risky, and I suppose a boarding action or a full-blown planetary assault must be downright hazardous, but most of the time there's no war on at all. No, the marines spend a lot of their time polishing their medals from what I hear. Well, not in this job; it's dangerous out here in the belts everyday of the year, war or peace. Yes there's a lot of bad ways to go.'
He played that back. He liked it. It was better than listening to the alarms and the ceaseless clicking of emergency switches.
'The first real friend I lost to the fields was Simmonds. He worked in one of those old Universal Systems prospecting ships. They were fast and could haul some, but they could get you killed too. His lost power, only for a few seconds they say, but close enough to a rock that he took a hit. But here's the thing: that did not kill the old fool. He thought he'd made it until he noticed he was venting atmosphere and his life support was down. He died of asphyxiation. They didn't find him for days.'
He flicked two switches in quick succession. Nothing happened. He allowed himself a thin resigned smile.
'I remember Brown, they used to call him Nutter, he had a nose-mounted combined drilling and grinding apparatus on some jury-rigged rock-hopper. He spent more time in his EVA suit fixing it than in the ship working it. One day it sprang into life and rolled old Brown into its maw. Died by crushing; quick but messy.
'A friend of Brown's oddly enough, a man by the name of Goodwin, met with a similar end. Goodie's problem was bad parking. His rig moved on some loose stuff whilst he was in front. Slowly cut in half by the weight of the ship. His EVA suit would have sealed around the tear as it progressed. Nasty; definitely cut in half not asphyxiated.'
He kept seeing a signal on the sensors as if somebody was out there, another ship. Then the signal would vanish. Hammering his fist into the side of the assembly made no difference.
'That boy Helg - I say boy but he was from Vega - came to a prolonged finish. I liked him, we all did. It was hard when he went missing. Two years it took before he was found. According to his logs he had spent nearly two months marooned on some tiny lump of ore and ice, eating stale rations and drinking his recycled piss. Is that death by being marooned; by starvation or what? Too lengthy for my liking though.
'Yes ships will get you, or the rocks will get you. I should mention Tessa of course. I've been in the fields for twenty five years; hardly had time to fall in love or have what you might call relationships, but for a while Tessa and I had something good. Raiders filled her so full of holes that what was left of her was no more than charred flesh and EVA suit fibres. They took her ship and her cargo. Some insurance scam made sure that Tessa's family never saw a credit out of the whole mess. Yes,as sure as I ever loved anyone I loved her.'
He ran a gloved finger horizontally across one eye. He had cried all of his tears for Tessa like that: one at a time, extracted before they could make a break for it down his long stubbly face. He banged the sensor assembly again, the signal wobbled and then came back. He made to use the comm's; to see if it was really there. He stopped. He was sure that it was a glitch. This old assembly had given him more fake traces than real ones in the last twelvemonth. The spin continued. Rocks passed by too close off either bow.
'All the bad ways to go and now it's my turn. It may be that the first impact will wipe this heap of junk right out of space, and this log with it. That would be nice and quick. I don't want to freeze or starve, that's for sure. I could get out maybe; go for one last walk in the rocks. No, I'm not at that stage yet.'
The signal suddenly became very solid indeed. Constant. It was coming closer now. Fast.
'Damn it. Someone is coming.'
He began to laugh and reached for the comm's; flicking switches some of which responded many of which did not.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
'It is another vessel of the tetrapod species 174.'
'Good. Approach.' The Commander's round black eyes fixed on the screen, intent as ever upon the job at hand. He reached out a long chitinous digit and operated the intercom. 'Doctor we may have need of your skills.'
'What is the species?'
'174 tetrapod. A chance to continue your work.'
'That is a problematic species.'
The Commander screeched his frustration. The doctor was prone to negativity. 'You will follow your orders Doctor.'
'174 is a durable animal but the demands of this work have proved too much for three such subjects already.'
'Doctor! You will follow your orders!'
'Yes Commander.'The Doctor could hear the anger in the Commander's voice; it would not do to push any further.
'The specimen will be brought to you.'
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
'Unknown vessel. Unknown vessel. Please acknowledge. I have lost main power and my engines are down. I request assistance.'
They were aliens for sure. It was a class of vessel he did not recognise, but it was a rescue nonetheless. They had not fired. He might have to pay for the help, but it was still help.
The docking clamps of the alien ship closed around the belter's craft like jaws.
