Page 7 of Life-Debt

It annoyed me that conception on a ship equated to being Earth-born. In a way, I understood the logic, but it meant nothing in the grand scheme.

Earth remained uninhabitable, and it likely would for thousands of years. One day, the catastrophe that had brought the planet to its knees might settle, but I had my doubts. The activated shiftgems once locked in the planet’s core had taken over. One day, some enterprising planet buster would head to Earth, blast it to smithereens, and gather the precious crystals to be used elsewhere.

For now, Earth endured as the lost home of humanity, preserved by other species for when it reverted to its blue-green splendor. I admired those who’d welcomed humanity with enthusiasm and warmth.

The first humans to travel the stars had been prejudiced due to ignorance, although change had come, measured in hours rather than years. Do or die had applied, and most had chosen survival over unfounded hatred.

The rest had died with Earth.

Being an endangered species sucked, especially when idiots got it into their heads to issue bounties in an attempt to gain fresh homo sapiens genetics into their bloodlines. “Yes, sir.”

“Klerano,” he replied. “You should be receiving a link request momentarily.”

Sure enough, a prompt appeared requesting permission to establish the link. I accepted, and once the ship had the data connection open, I began transferring the ship’s log over along with a copy of my scan results from my ship. “The transmission is in progress.”

“Excellent. What can you tell me about the damage to the ship?”

I appreciated the transition to a different subject, and I began a detailed description of how I’d found the broken shiftgems and the steps needed to repair the various systems. I mentioned I’d left the water systems offline to minimize the number of crystals in operation in the engine room, recommending a better buffering system be installed, as it was impossible to tell if some form of resonance had shattered the installed gems. I went on to detail how the packing of the stones in the cargo bay would have prevented any potential damage to the cargo if resonance had occurred.

I made no mention of my suspicions of sabotage, nor did he ask for my opinion regarding the derelict’s state upon my arrival.

“You mentioned having the ability to revive people from stasis,” Klerano prompted.

“Yes.” I tapped at the console and added a copy of my medical training and stasis certifications, along with my flawless record of emergency stasis revival. “While I can’t put anyone into stasis on my ship, I have the appropriate equipment and training to revive most species from stasis. The process itself takes a few hours, during which I will be closely monitoring the patient. I have everything on board to treat most stasis conditions. Considering the circumstances, it’s best to do it on my ship. I don’t know what his health was when he was put into stasis, and he may have been suffering from oxygen deprivation when he was put into the machine due to the ship’s system failures.”

“I take it the ship is still uninhabitable?”

“Diagnostic: life-support system,” I ordered my suit, which began a scan of the atmospheric conditions. Within two minutes, I marveled at the system’s ability to recover. “The ship is now capable of supporting life, but I’ll remain suited for safety reasons. That said, I was able to restore oxygen generation, and the air quality is now survivable. I don’t know if the repairs I made will last, and as such, the surviving member of the crew will stay aboard my ship in quarantine.”

“You assume he will survive.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t invest in a half mil token system to lose people reviving them from stasis,” I countered.

“Your system was that expensive?”

“Yes, sir. I bought new with every feature I could get my hands on. I enjoy rescue missions, as they pay well with minimal risks to my ship and myself. I’m paid by surviving recoveries. I’m trained in some systems on how to put someone into stasis, but that is a last, desperate measure—likely what had happened among the crew in their final hours. It appears the crew’s last act was to monitor the man who was put into stasis, as I found their bodies in the chamber at the mandatory stations.” I hesitated, but then I added, “They now sell a one-man operated stasis chamber, although it’s out of my general budget. Also, the shiftgem operating my system was in addition to the revival system itself.”

“Would you install one on your ship if you could?”

The number of lives I could have saved, if only I had a stasis chamber, staggered me. “I would sacrifice more than a little cargo space for a stasis chamber, sir. In space, we are all brothers and sisters, and while there are pirates, living bodies are worth more than most corpses. And once in stasis, assuming the victim isn’t jettisoned from an air lock for taking up space, they can endure for hundreds or thousands of years. Only space scum settle for murder if stasis is an option. Personally, had I been able to afford one of the new stasis chambers, I would have been able to save far more lives.”

I also would have been able to freeze the decaying corpses in their suits to make the lives of those dealing with the deceased a little easier. I forced my expression to remain neutral. But, as he’d asked, I sent along the victim count I’d registered as potentially survivable with appropriate medical care.

“What is your profession?”

“I locate and recover derelicts and their crew,” I answered, grateful I could support my claim through additional documentation, which I sent over at the press of a few buttons. “Most would call me a treasure seeker, but if I can return the cargo and crew for a finder’s fee, I prefer that over making use of a recovery market. In this case, it’s a planetary supply of shiftgems. Morally speaking, my only choice is to return the ship and her crew to your world, even if there isn’t a finder’s fee.”

“You weren’t aware?”

“Of what, sir?”

“Klerano is fine, truly. You have earned the familiarity with your acts, both brave and humble.”

“Klerano,” I replied, wondering what sort of custom I missed, as sir was the universally accepted custom, something non-human species had picked up in some strange homage to Earth in her final days. Gender had managed to get lost in translation along the way, with everyone sharing the same address. In a way, I liked it.

Everyone stood equal. Everyone.

It made navigating the universe and its many species much easier.