Chapter 3

“Scout 289 from the independent ship ‘Sutter’s Mill’. Calling the claimed roid I’m orbiting.”

Jimi waited a minute or two, then repeated his hail. After getting no response, he double checked the radio settings and tried 2 more hails. Still getting no response, Jimi sat back and concidered the situation.

There could be a couple or reasons why someone wouldn’t answer a hail. Equipment failure, the radio’s might not be monitored, or, maybe, some kind of emergency prevented a response.

At this point Jimi had options. The first was to back off and continue his sweep. The other was to ground and see if they needed help. The first option was the smartest, if not safest. But Jimi remembered his own rescue by the ‘Sutter’s Mill’. Captain Lee could have continued on course, ignoring Jimi’s damaged scout.

Jimi’s final option was to ground, introduce himself and see if he could broker a refinery deal. If he could set that up, he would get 1 percent of the ships take. Plus what ever commission he could get. All that, and no work on his part.

Swearing to himself, Jimi started setting up to ground on the pad. At the same time He transmitted his intentions, just in case they were monitoring, but couldn’t, or wouldn’t answer.

Expecting trouble, Jimi secured his helmet. Then scavenged his cabin air. During his approach he repeated that he was coming in for a health and welfare check. As he grounded, he noticed that the shuttle was definitely an antique. The only time he had seen that model had been in vids and books.

“Great, this guy is some oldtime deep spacer. Probably crazier than a bedbug.”

After waiting 10 minutes, Jimi decided he was going to have to check things out. Grabbing a wrench, he cycled through his airlock.

The closer he got to the habitat, the more it looked like a deep spacer shack. Nothing on it looked standard. In fact, it looked like it had been put together from trash.

When Jimi got to the airlock, he thought to himself. “Better knock and see if anybody’s home.” as he banged on it with the wrench. Seeing no movement through the port, Jimi spun the wheel and entered the lock.

After he was in the airlock, he looked for the cycle control. Once again it was an obviously make do set up.

Opening the inner hatch, he was surprised at the darkness. The only light was from an observation port in the ceiling. Normally the interior lights came on when the inner lock door opened. But even then, there should be indicator lights on the equipment.

Jimi pulled up his external environment display. It showed the correct atmosphere mix. The pressure was thin, but breathable. The big shock was the temperature. It was at outside temps.

Turning on his helmet spot, Jimi scanned the room.

Seated in the middle of the room, facing the airlock was a man. Jimi jumped, then relaxed. Whoever he was, it was obvious he was dead. Anybody, sitting in his skivves, in this cold, had to be dead.