The landing on the asteroid was every bit as rough as Seth predicted. Usually he was able to program the computer to adjust the gravity stabilizers, but he simply didn’t have enough information on this place. No one had answered his com hails, but at least they hadn’t attacked him. That was something.
He put the ship down on a flat area about a quarter mile from the habitation dome.
Another ship was already parked to one side of the field, a decrepit-looking junker that should have been scrapped decades ago.
He and Devora donned their pressure suits without speaking. He was still angry, although he wasn’t quite sure why. Pushing his feelings down, he tried to focus instead on the task at hand.
As they finished, the computer chirped a warning. Someone was approaching the ship.
Seth and Devora stepped into the airlock, closing the door tightly behind them. With a whooshing sound, the ship started pumping air out of the small chamber. As Seth waited for the cycle to complete, he watched the figure coming toward them. By his size, Seth figured he was male. He was carrying a gun, although it wasn’t held in a threatening position. Not the most promising of situations, but at he least hadn’t come out shooting.
The light above the door flashed, and the outer portal slid open. Bouncing slightly from the low gravity, Seth made his way down the landing ladder. Normally he would turn to assist Devora, but this time he stayed focused on the man, keeping a hand on his blaster. He had a bad feeling about this stop; he should have made Devora stay on the ship despite her protestations and pouting.
They walked toward the man, Seth trying to raise him on the com. As they got closer, the man tapped the side of his helmet with one hand, indicating his radio wasn’t working. He gestured to them to follow, and started walking back toward the habitation bubble.
The bubble itself looked every bit as old and unsteady as the decrepit ship on the landing field. Even after the airlock was fully cycled and the light turned green, Seth took care to check the instruments on his own suit before removing his helmet. He didn’t want to take any chances. A stench, like rotting cheese, hit him as he pulled off the helmet. The inhabitants of the bubble didn’t clean themselves very often, he realized.
Devora must have come to the same conclusion, because she gasped as the odor hit her.
“It’s a might close in here,” the miner said in profound understatement. He had pulled off his helmet before either of them, but had kept busy fiddling with the airlock controls while they removed their own helmets. Now he turned to face them, and Seth fought to control his reaction.
The man was filthy. Black mining dust covered his face, hands and neck. He had the look of someone who’d been dirty for so long that the dirt was under the skin. His hair was lank and greasy, hanging from his balding head in stringy locks. Devora gasped in shock beside him.
“I’m Calvin,” the man said, exposing rotten teeth. “This is my rock. I’ll expect you’ll be wantin’ to trade before you leave.”
That hadn’t been Seth’s plan, but Calvin didn’t strike him as the kind of man who would make time for casual visitors.
“We might have something to trade,” he said lightly. “We’ll have to see.”
Calvin grunted, then opened the airlock portal into the main bubble. The mechanism scraped from its coating of grime. Calvin strode into the room ahead of them, and Seth saw a woman and two children waiting for them silently. They were thin, pale and dirty, like Calvin.
“This is my wife, Sarai,” he said. “And this is my son, Able.” He didn’t bother to introduce the girl.
They were the most pathetic people he’d ever seen. Sarai stood silently, not meeting his eyes. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, but it was hard to tell under all the dirt.
He was gradually getting used to the smell, although every once in a while he had to fight off the urge to gag. Looking the woman up and down, he realized that she had made some attempt to straighten herself. Her oily hair had been freshly combed, as had that of the little girl. The little boy was the spitting image of his father, right down to his rotten teeth. All three seemed to be standing as far from Calvin as they possibly could.
“I would imagine your woman will want to help mine fix some food,” Calvin said after a minute, giving his wife a pointed glare. She glanced furtively at Devora, smiling shyly, and then gestured toward the other side of the bubble. There seemed to be just the one room, serving as living area, kitchen and bedroom.
Devora gave the woman a sweet smile in return, and the two made their way across the room with the little girl trailing after them. Seth noticed with some disgust that Devora had to pick her way carefully to avoid piles of debris littering the floor.
“Now that we’ve got rid of them, I think we should talk business,” Calvin said. He gestured Seth to a small, round table. “Have a seat. Able! Clear off a seat for the man.”
Able leapt into action, scuttling around his father to pull out a chair. Whipping a piece of torn fabric out of his pocket, the grubby child made an effort to wipe off some of the grime before Seth sat down.
“Damn woman don’t do jack shit around here,” Calvin grumbled as he pulled out his own chair. “I don’t know why the hell I don’t push her outta the airlock. Oh shut up, Able, I’m just funnin’,” he said as the boy snuffled in protest.
“Damn kid’s got no sense of humor,” Calvin said, spitting on the floor for emphasis.
“Now go get us some bakrah. I don’t believe in beatin’ around the bush, so let’s have this out.”
Seth cocked an eyebrow at Calvin questioningly. He had no idea what the man was talking about.
“I’m assuming you’re here to trade, and that’s a good thing,” Calvin said bluntly. “I don’t hold with traders, we’re Pilgrims here and we usually take care of our own. But something’s gone wrong up at Bethesda base and I ain’t seen no one for a coupla months. Radio’s been out for two weeks now. I’m wonderin’ if you got news for me.”
“What kind of news are you looking for?” Seth asked cautiously.
“News ‘bout them damn Sarlins what took over the sector, o’ course,” Calvin said, spitting again. Able, who was approaching with two grimy cups on a tray, ducked to miss the wad of dirty phlegm. The boy slid between them to set the tray on the table.
Calvin swatted at him, and he jumped back just as quickly. Apparently he’d had practice avoiding his father’s fists, Seth thought with distaste.
“Do you mean the Saurellians?” Seth asked, trying to lead Calvin on.
“That’s what I said,” Calvin replied, eyeing Seth suspiciously. “Them’s what been fightin’ the emperor. I’m thinkin’ they may’ve took out Bethesda.”
“I don’t know about Bethesda,” Seth said, choosing his words carefully. “I’m relatively new to this trade route. But I haven’t heard about the Saurellians coming out in this sector. Are you sure it’s them?”
“Course it’s them, who else would it be?” Calvin said. He grabbed one of the cups from the tray and handed it to Seth. “Have some bakrah. Make it myself.”
Seth took the cup and sniffed at the contents. The fumes alone were enough to singe the tiny hairs in his nose, but he took a sip to be polite. At least it drowned out some of Calvin’s smell, and the alcohol would probably be enough to kill whatever microorganisms were living in the cup. It was a comforting thought. The bakrah burned down his throat, and it took all he had in him not to cough. Calvin drank from his own cup deeply, then peered around the room myopically for Able.
“Bring the damn bottle, ya little shit!” he bellowed. “Now, back to business. I don’t usually trade with your kind, but to be honest we’re running a little short of supplies here. I usually gets all I need from Bethesda, but like I said, I ain’t seen ‘em for a while.