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When Ariel got back to the camp-site, she noticed Bommah was already sitting there, his Nomad uniform and acruitriments of pipes, bottles, recyclers, pumps, readouts, and processers making him look even bigger and chubbier than he was. She smiled at him. "Any luck?"
He looked up briefly from his methane bottles, shook his head.
She kicked some old alum-cans out of the way and crouched down next to him. "Me neither. Well, hardly anythin'."
He started fiddling with his meth bottles again, arranging them in little patterns, then re-arranging them.
She pissed into the tubing attached between her legs.
It was still early, 1620 Local by the chronometer read out at the lower corner of her field of vision, and the area was still pretty deserted; only a scattering of nomadics sprawled around, either too sick or lazy or disenchanted to scrounge for food or fedcu sprawled among the litter of dirty blankets, rusty pots empty bottles, alum-cans, celluose boxes, nonfunctional tech, or around badly smoking camp fires. Every so often the fascist station police would raid the area, extinguish the fires, no open flames allowed on station, what a lot of shit.
Better see if there's anything new at the docks. She 'faced with the Station datastream, using eye-movements to point and call up data from the local net. A list of recent arrivals filled the viewer
| Name | Registered | Mass (metric tonnes) | Destination | Notes |
| Belt Princess | United Industries | 624,000 | New O'Neill | Ore-carrier |
| Perseus | Vesta Transportation | 48,000 | Kiess Biosphere | general freight |
| Iron Star | Galactic Mining | 865,000 | Niobe Habitat | Ore-carrier |
| Copernicus | Luna Construction Industries | 251,000 | Luna Orbit | Oxygen Carrier |
| Jennifer | private vessel | 600 | Titan orbit | yatch |
| Mayflower | Mayflower body corporate | 312,300 | Ceres | space habitat |
Mayflower. Just their luck. First space hab in ages, and they're going the wrong way. She sighed, folded her eye viewer, sipped some water. It tasted bitter. Fuck, her recycler's playing up again. Fed surpluss shit.
"Hoi!"
She looked up at the call. Two figures were approaching. She waved.
Skoota walked up, arials, tubing and shit waving everywhere. Andromeda trailed behind him. They plonked themselves down.
"Any luck?" Ariel asked.
Skoota grinned blackened teeth, tipped the contents of his knapsack out. A pile of kelp-blocks, all still in their wrappers, tumbled onto the metallic ground.
"You filch all these?"
"I'd of gotten more, but some fascists saw me, and I had to run for it." He swept his hand across his forehead, brushing away long knotted strands of auburn hair.
"I just got these." She tossed two bottles of synthetic pineapple juice onto the pile.
Skoota licked his lips theatrically. "Ascorbic acid, yum."
Andromeda tossed three station quarterdollars on the ground. "Sold a flute." She had more strung around her neck, on top of the nomad gear, hand-made earthenwear.
"Hoi, Bommah," Skoota said.
Bommah looked at the small bottles in front of him. "Didn't sell anythin'."
"What? Again?"
Bommah nodded.
"Well fuck. Filch something then. Ya gotta pay your way brother."
Bommah hunched over, chin on his knees, arms around his legs.
"Leave 'im alone," Ariel said. "He's doin' the best he can."
Skoota glared at her. "We're all doin' the best we can Air. We can't afford dead weight." He looked at Bommah's chubby frame. "I mean weight," he snickered.
Bommah looked at him sullenly. "Gramps doesn't contr'bute anythin'"
Skoota gave the bigger fellow a shove, knocking him back against his greaf and stuff. "Gamps fuckin' contr'butes knowledge. That's the most important thing there fuckin' is, nomad."
Ariel crawled over to Bommah, helped him up.
"Leave 'im Air," Skoota said. "He's not worth it."
"Fuck off!" she spat. "You don't know what it's like to be ground down."
"I don't know what it's like to be ground down? I don't know what it's like to be fuckin' ground down?"
"Cool it gang," Andromeda said. "Let's see Gramps, get some nutrients happenin'." She started gathering up the goodies, shoved them into a dirty bag.
Skoota looked at Ariel, genuinely hurt. "What d'ya mean I don't know what it's like?"
She sighed, followed Andromeda. "Forget it Skoota."
"Every night when I was a kid me old bastard would come back stoned to the eyeballs on angeldust or flash or whatever the fuck was goin', and he'd beat the shit outta me mom an' me, what d'ya mean I don't know what it's like?"
"Sorry Skoota," she said softly. "I shouldn't a said it."
He put an arm around her. She flinched instinctively, even though she knew he'd never force himself. "It's okay sister," he said gently. "Bein' stuck on this tin-can for months is gettin' to us all." His face lit up. "Hoy! Gramps!"
Gramps, bent and ostereoporotic from a lifetime in microgravity, looked up at them with eyes half-blind from years of cosmic ray exposure. He grinned toothlessly. "Young fellow!"
They all sat down next to him. He had a camp fire going, a smokey affair that could be choking at times. Like all the camp fires, this one was for social functions rather than warmth; the station temperature never wavered from 30 degrees Celsius. Skoota grinned. "Got some kelp bikkies Gramps. Vitamin B complex. Iron.."
Gramps crinkled his eyes, nodded. "Put it in the pot then."
Skoota grabbed a charcoal stained pot, unwrapped half a dozen small kelp blocks, tipped them in. He looked around. "Who's got the cleanest water."
Ariel shook her head. "Mine tastes pissy. It's not recycling properly."
"Let's taste."
She detached a little bottle from her gear, handed to him. He sipped it, made a face. "Almost as bad as mine. Bommah?"
Bommah shook his head.
"Well, let's fuckin' taste it then."
Surley faced, Bommah unclipped a bottle, handed to Skoota.
Pugh!" Skoota said, spitting it out. "No wonder you're always so peeved off." He tossed the small bottle back.
"We need some new recycs," Ariel said.
"You're telling me sister. An?"
She handed him her bottle. He tasted it, made a smacking sound with his lips. "Passable." He tipped the lot in.
Ariel fiddled in her clothing, unclipped and retrieved the bug-katchers in her hair, her armpits, and her pubes. She held each tiny cage up to the light, shook it, watched the fleas, lice and crabs that had gotten trapped crawl and jump around. Even though they were parasites, she hated putting them in the pot. In the big scheme of things she, Skoota, Andromeda, Bommah, and Gramps were no different, little insects trying to eke out a miserable existence in an unforgiving cosmos.
"Come on Ariel," Skoota said. "In they go." He had already emptied his own bug-katchers.
She felt really sad. "I wish we could sell 'em, give 'em away as pets or somethin'."
"They're just bugs." He stuck his hand in his pants and wriggled his hips as he reset his groin bug-catcher. "Transgenic bugs at that."
Reluctantly, she tipped the bugs into the water. They squirmed and struggled, caught in the surface tension.
"You got a lot," said Andromeda, tipping her own bugs in. "They must like you."
"It's cos I'm compassionate," Ariel said sadly.
Andromeda touched her cheek, kissed her lightly on the lips.
"Fuel!" Skoota said.
Bommah handed him one of his methane bottles.
"I need more than this."
Bommah tossed three more bottles at him.
Skoota linked the bottles, fitted a little burner on the top, made an a-okay sign with thumb and forefinger. "High octane Bommah meth," he grinned.
Bommah farted, grinned briefly.
"Good on ya. Keep the supply lines goin'." Skoota flicked the piezo-switch. The methane caught with a little blue flame. He put the little burner on the ground, underneath the pot, placed the lid on top. "Ready in a tic. Better check the docks." He positioned his eye-reader.
"I already checked," Ariel said.
"Well, maybe there's somethin' new that's...hey, ya missed one!"
"Which?"
He refolded his viewer, grinned. "The Mayflower."
"It's goin' the wrong way."
"What the fuck. I just wanna get off here."
"Ceres's a hole."
"I know it's a hole, fuck, but it's no worse than this place."
"I wanna go to the Oort Cloud."
"There's just loonies out there, loonies an' tweaks an wierd cyborgs and shit."
Ariel folded her arms. "I don't care. I wnna go outsystem."
Skoota lightly jabbed Gramps with his elbow. "Tell 'er she's nuts Gramps."
Gramps regarded the simmering pot for a minute, coffed wheezily, squinted at them. "Used ta be passage everywhere, a nomad could see tha universe for a song. In tha old days a Federation. Them days a gone. Nothin' but megacorp an' nationals now. Girl's right. Only freedom left's outsystem." He coughed some more, squinted at the pot, sniffed. "Reckon ya nutrients dun."
"Graaamps!" Skoota whined.
Ariel smirked at him.
He sighed. "Okay. We wait for the next one out. Could be ten fuckin' years." He carefully retreaved the burner, cut the flame, unscrewed the bottles. "Just about empty." He tossed them back at Bommah. "Fuck Gramps." He crossed his arms, frowned.
Andromeda lifted the lid, stired with a soup-spoon. "Come and get it."
Ariel unhooked her bowl, extended it. Andromeda ladled the soup in. Ariel breathed in the aroma, smiled, found a patch of ground and carefully slurped her meal.
