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  Philippe shrugged, apparently confused. “Yes, I said New Sydney.”

  “You did.”

  Philippe flopped into the seat beside Sebastian and ran long fingers through his hair.

  “To be honest, I’m not the big professor I claimed. I exaggerated.”

  “Who are you, really?”

  Philippe lunged for his journal and dangled the notepad back and forth between thumb and forefinger.

  “I am Philippe LaGrain, but I’m not a professor. I’ve been a Geology lecturer at Montreal University for twenty years.”

  Sebastian patted him on the back. “That doesn’t matter. If we prove your theory, they’ll make you a professor.”

  Philippe shook his head. The journal still swung back and forth.

  “That’s unlikely as the theory isn’t mine. I borrowed it from my professor.”

  “Ah.”

  Philippe swung his journal faster. “Ah, indeed.”

  “Does he know?”

  Philippe let the journal drop with a lengthy clatter, courtesy of the weak gravity flooring, and again ran his fingers through his hair.

  “He published a paper a few years ago. I was in the group he brought together to consider whether the isotope existed in certain kinds of asteroid belts. After two years of arguing, we decided we needed more subcommittees and more funding. So I organized a sabbatical to try to find the isotope myself.”

  “So this proper group will come searching soon?”

  Philippe threw his head back and laughed the first proper laugh Sebastian had heard from him.

  “That’s unlikely. Under their current progress they won’t get a team ready to search for about ten years.”

  “So there’s plenty of time for another go.”

  Philippe nodded. “With luck there is. Anyhow, I’ve given you the whole truth about me. What’s your life story?”

  “It’s nothing special. I trained as a spacehopper pilot with the Corps, but I didn’t have the required discipline. After a few years, I didn’t renew my contract and hung around on New Vancouver, gambling.”

  “So why come to Absolem? You have talents, so are you running away or searching for something?”

  “I fell into debt so it’s a bit of both.”

  Philippe stood up and moved away, and then returned with a flask of water. He swallowed some and offered the flask to Sebastian.

  “Go on.”

  Gratefully, Sebastian accepted the flask. “When you’re in debt you can’t escape. You can’t afford to run away or pay off the gangsters, so you’re trapped.”

  “I can understand that.”

  Sebastian took a long gulp of cool water. “To clear my debt, I delivered a data shard and a thousand credits for a gangster called El Duce to another lowlife, but a gang war erupted. I never made the delivery and instead I stole the money and came to Absolem.”

  Philippe traced a pattern on his suit. “What did you find on the shard?”

  Sebastian started. “How did you know I tried?”

  Philippe smiled. “Come on.”

  Data port one status 677.8, Sebastian’s optic display informed him.

  In the four months since he’d foolishly inserted the shard, he’d confirmed the device counted down one unit every hour. He calculated it would expire in around nine months and then, he hoped, the device would eject from his port.

  “It was completely blank,” he said. “Now, I reckon I was to receive information, not provide it.”

  “Did you sell it?”

  “No, I hid the thing before I left, just in case I ever found out what it was.”

  “That’s not too bad. It’s far less dishonest than me.”

  Sebastian swirled the flask contents. “So now I’ll have to find work on Absolem.”

  The reality was a return to the Purple Roger casino and another opportunity for a punter to notice his talent. Philippe patted Sebastian on the back.

  “Come with me to Montreal. You might find work there.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “I couldn’t afford the berth.”

  “I have enough for both of us. It’s the least I can do.”

  “It is,” Sebastian said, making them both laugh.

  In the morning, when Sebastian awoke, he was happier than he’d been for some time. This search felt pointless now that Philippe wasn’t the expert he’d claimed to be, but knowing the truth made Sebastian feel better.

  Philippe was a kind man, if bumbling, and as he’d take him to a real world, his behavior no longer irritated him. Sebastian flicked the control panel and initiated the isotope search pattern.

  He hummed a tune under his breath while swinging the ship around to the next asteroid on their target list. The monitors indicated they were ten thousand kilometers away from the slab of mottled rock.

  It was another unpromising target, but he was still dogged enough to ensure they finished what they’d started. With a start he noticed the red flash from Philippe’s isotope detector. Sebastian flicked the monitor on and off, but the detector still flashed red.

  “Philippe, you might like to take a look at this.”

  Philippe leaned on his shoulder. “What am I looking at?”

  Sebastian stabbed a shaking finger on the monitor. “It’s the asteroid straight ahead. It’s around fifteen minutes away and the target area’s emitting the right signal for your isotope.”

  “How can you tell?”

  Smiling, Sebastian pointed at the control panel. “The little red light tells me.”

  Philippe smiled. “I wish I knew such things.”

  They stopped ten kilometers from the asteroid. The signal had come from a point now on the blind side, and in another minute that point would come back into sight.

  “Is this asteroid an ideal one for your isotope?”

  “That’s a complex question, Sebastian, that’ll take a long time to answer. It’ll be quicker to wait for the area to return.”

  When the detector flashed red again Sebastian’s heart thudded. He flicked for full monitoring of the area, but they both ignored the control panel display and turned to the window. Outside there was only barren rock, so Sebastian turned back to the monitor, and sighed.

  “I’m sorry, Philippe. It was a false alarm.” Sebastian pointed at the monitor. “It’s a shuttle that crashed, probably years ago. Fuel must be leaking from its tanks.”

  He zoomed in the monitor to display a shuttle buried face down in the rock.

  “Is there any sign of survivors?” Philippe asked.

  Sebastian checked on the readouts and then shook himself, wondering why he’d bothered.

  “The shuttle’s ripped along one side. No one could have survived. The authorities can deal with the wreckage.”

  Philippe sighed. “Better luck next time, I suppose.”

  After swinging the spacehopper away from the asteroid, Sebastian checked out the details for the next journey, but the isotope detector still flashed red. Sebastian disconnected the detector and re-input instructions to ignore the shuttle.

  He switched the detector on again. It flashed red and indicated a spot a few kilometers from the shuttle. While chewing his lip, Sebastian leaned closer to the monitor.

  “Philippe, you said ‘better luck next time.’ Are you ready for the next time?”

  Chapter Six

  “WHEN DO WE START SEARCHING?” Philippe asked.

  Sebastian winced. “We do it when I’m ready.”

  Muttering to himself, Philippe threw a journal at the spacehopper wall.

  “I just don’t see why we can’t head for the signal area and take the necessary samples.”

  For the third time Sebastian returned to his monitors, searching for the right place to land. They’d have to live on the asteroid for a few days, so they’d need to establish a permanent base.

  “Once we’ve set up a base you’ll be able to play with your equipment for as long as you like.”

  “All right, I’ll take a nap and get ready for
my space walk.”

  “You aren’t coming on the sample collection mission,” Sebastian snapped, and then continued more softly “I’ll have enough trouble keeping myself safe without worrying about someone else.”

  Philippe grunted, whether in agreement or not, Sebastian couldn’t tell. Whatever Philippe’s complaints, he intended to pitch their pod and set up camp, which would involve four hours of tethering the pod, filling the cavity with air, checking for leaks and installing the gravity net.

  He assumed Philippe would greet each check with exasperated arm waving. He wasn’t wrong.

  “How close are you?” Philippe asked, when Sebastian had left the pod.

  “I’m twenty meters closer than the last time you asked, and you’re supposed to be my back up, not ask me questions.”

  Keeping his annoyance under control – space was not the place for anger – Sebastian fired the attitude jets for two seconds to slow his descent. Slow but sure, the answer to safe space travel, said the old spacehopper mantra.

  Sebastian halted twenty meters from the asteroid. There, the wrist-mounted detector flashed as he turned to the rock, confirming he’d come to the right spot. He hoped the detector knew what to search for, as the lumpy, pitted rock looked the same as every asteroid he’d ever visited.

  Sebastian picked a likely piece of solid rock and shot a tether toward the asteroid. The blast started him on a steady revolution backward. He corrected with his attitude jets and then let the weak gravity of the asteroid drag him to the surface.

  “What can you see?” Philippe asked after his longest quiet break so far.

  “It’s rock.”

  Philippe sighed. “I know it’s rock, but what else?”

  “There’s more rock.”

  Philippe swore making Sebastian smile. He drew himself into the rockface, holding out an arm to cushion his impact against the rock. He needed to carry out actions slowly or he’d bounce away in a series of hops that would take forever to control.

  Calmly and steadily was the only way to deal with such low gravity. He hit the surface and his arm flex let him drift away at a steady rate. Sebastian gulped as he experienced the realignment known as DAM time – Directional Alignment Moment – and his world swam before him.

  He had to remain calm during adjustment or risk nausea. He’d stopped thinking of the asteroid as a lump of rock he approached sideways, and now he lay full length on the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Philippe shouted in his ear.

  Sebastian started. His knee hit the asteroid surface and he drifted up. He gritted his teeth.

  “I’m in the middle of some complex space maneuvers and I need complete silence. Now shut up.”

  He began the process of approaching the asteroid again.

  “But are you there yet?”

  Sebastian ignored him. When properly tethered he examined the pitted rock beneath him.

  “What am I looking for?” Sebastian listened to the silence for a second and then raised his voice. “What am I looking for?”

  “I can speak now, can I?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re looking for rock.”

  Sebastian smiled. “I take your point. What kind of rock do I want? Everything looks the same to me. I’d hate to sample the wrong piece.”

  “Search for non-reflective rock.”

  “Philippe, I’m three hundred million kilometers from Rigel. The light is so low I can hardly see the rock and you want me to find something that doesn’t reflect the light.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do your students understand you?”

  Philippe laughed. “I’ll try harder. The isotope forms in bands between normal rock. You need to find an area where the strata are most obvious and then search for a lighter rock seam.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sebastian examined the asteroid, but found nothing to fit Philippe’s description, although he could imagine the rock had strata. He raised an arm and when he flashed his palm torch at the nearest outcrop it emitted a faint phosphorescent glow. Sebastian sucked in air.

  “Are you all right?”

  “The rocks in front of me glow when I shine my torch at them. Are they what I’m searching for?”

  “It’s the bits that don’t shine as much you’d expect.”

  Sebastian leaned forward and there was a duller band running through the middle.

  “I believe we’re in business,” he said.

  “DID WE FIND IT?” SEBASTIAN asked.

  Philippe turned and waggled a test tube in front of Sebastian.

  “Be calm. You can’t hurry this process.”

  Sebastian kicked his chair. Then, with nothing to occupy his mind, he paced around their little pod. It contained everything two people needed for camping in space, the merchant had told him.

  Two small people who enjoyed each other’s company, he should have added. Sebastian completed his two paces across the pod and returned. He picked up a rock fragment and poked at the pitted surface.

  The sample didn’t appear special enough to make his fortune. Then again, he wouldn’t need to see the rock again. Someone else could deal with the boring mining activities and he’d wait for whoever bought the mineral rights to deliver credits to him.

  “Tell me, Philippe, if this rock is unbihexium, how exactly do you get unlimited power from it?” he asked anyway.

  “Such a technical question would demand a technical answer,” Philippe said without turning from his test tube.

  With a contented sigh Sebastian dropped into his chair and threw the mottled gray rock into its container. The rock landed with a dull thud. Presently, Philippe coughed, making Sebastian turn.

  “What is it?”

  “I have good news and bad news.”

  “Just tell me what you’ve found.”

  Philippe waved the test tube dangling between his fingers at Sebastian.

  “This rock is the isotope.”

  “What’s the bad news?”

  Philippe ran his fingers through his hair. “You’ve spoiled the joke’s rhythm, but the bad news is, I can’t return to my old job as a lecturer. I’m too rich.”

  With a contented sigh Sebastian threw his arms behind his head, puffed out his chest and crossed his legs.

  “And I’m too rich to work as a spacehopper pilot or delivery boy again.”

  WHEN ALL THE TESTS were complete, Sebastian dropped into his chair and Philippe extracted a bright green sachet from his belongings with a flourish. He aimed and then launched the sachet at Sebastian. Sebastian caught it easily and examined the tube within, but could find no identifying markings.

  “It’s that rare thing: space booze.” Philippe withdrew another sachet. “I forgot about the gravity net when I bought zero gravity sachets so they’ll have to do.”

  Sebastian smiled. “Disgusting booze is preferable to no booze.”

  He ripped off the stopper and swallowed a gulp, and changed his opinion. An hour later Sebastian stood up, swayed and threw out an arm to steady himself, letting his third sachet fall to the floor.

  The pod revolved steadily around him. He dragged one foot forward before thinking better of making the attempt to move. He flopped to the floor.

  “You’d better watch out, Sebastian. Rich oxygen makes the alcohol’s effect stronger, assuming this is alcohol. We’d better stop.”

  “You stop. I intend to celebrate.” Sebastian tried to stand again, without success, and his legs splayed out. “Then again, perhaps I won’t.”

  Strings of purple pearls cascaded from each ceiling light. Sebastian reached for one, but he couldn’t grab it and drew his hand back. Widening his eyes, he concentrated on the nearest string of pearls, which oscillated back and forth, back and forth.

  When the pearls reached the nearest point to him he flung out his hand, but he still failed to grasp it. Philippe giggled and kneeled on the floor.

  “You, my friend, need to sleep,” Philippe said. “I’ll help you to yo
ur cot.”

  Philippe got up, tottered and slipped gracefully to the floor. Orange flares reflected from every surface of his spacesuit.

  “But perhaps I’ll stay here,” Philippe conceded.

  “That’s a good idea. Do you think—?” Sebastian realized that he’d forgotten why he’d opened his mouth. His vision swam. “What is in this space booze? I feel strange.”

  Philippe had curled up on the floor and was snoring lustily. The snores rose to the ceiling like gentle clouds rising on currents, to shower down as rainbow colored doves of ice. Sebastian squeezed his eyes closed.

  Time passed in a confusing jumble of new colors and strange sounds. Sebastian opened his eyes and then closed them again as the light seemed to pierce him. He tried to gulp, but his desert-dry mouth couldn’t summon any moisture, and then ran his tongue over his teeth and gums, making it rasp gently.

  Panicking at the disorientation he felt, he opened an eye. Luckily, the pod didn’t spin. He closed his eyes and tried to judge how nauseous he felt, but his head felt remarkably clear. This was potentially bad, hinting that he was so hungover he didn’t realize how ill he was.

  Cautiously, Sebastian stood up and then tottered with his head lowered. He raised his head and opened his eyes. The world revealed itself, and it was a world no longer plagued with wide arcs of color.

  He still felt no hint of a hangover. He opened and closed his mouth to produce moisture, but failed. He needed a drink.

  “Philippe, how are you?” Sebastian croaked. He coughed, and phlegm bubbled deep in his throat.

  He waited but received no answer. Sebastian turned around, but there was no sign of Philippe. With nowhere else to hide, Sebastian decided Philippe must be in the toilet. Sebastian staggered across the pod, picked up a water bottle and gulped half the contents.

  The water hit his stomach like a cold avalanche and cramps thrust deep into his insides. The pain doubled him up.

  “Philippe,” he said.

  Sebastian kneeled and the pain receded. He drew a deep breath, hoping the pain wasn’t a prelude to a serious gastric problem. With growing concern he dragged himself to his feet and shuffled on, noting just how quiet Philippe was being for an ill man. He knocked on the toilet door.