The Prospector

THE PROSPECTOR

MANAT 27, 479, 08:24

I have reached Oric 3, as barren and ugly as any other asteroid. This was supposed to be my week off but of course The Company came up with an “emergency” to pull me back in. They detected traces of the rare element prazosium in this piece of rock, and now I’m wasting my vacation assessing whether this is accurate. If so, they will send a mining crew to extract it all. That will be one less asteroid in the infinite cloud, and nobody will miss it.

Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing with my life. Prazosium is used to make laser weapons. I try to make myself believe that the weapons will be used to protect the innocent, but sometimes I can’t suppress that nagging feeling… what if they’re not? 

Honestly, I don’t feel like I’m making a tangible difference in the universe. On Maslow’s Hierarchy, “having a purpose” is the penultimate, achievable only if you’ve already met all your other needs. I don’t think I agree. Not having self-esteem or family shouldn’t get in the way of making a difference, should it? 

Maybe it does. Maybe that’s my problem.

Where would I be now if I’d taken a different career path? I did have that choice, once, back at university. I could have spent my time helping living beings. Medical school or veterinary school? Whatever choice I made would determine the course of my life forever. In an attempt to evade the overwhelming stress of the decision, I dropped out.

And now I’m here. Prospecting for elements in the middle of nowhere.

Enough griping. Time to get to work. Probably a drink later.

MANAT 27, 479, 18:32

Something happened.  

As soon as I started collecting data, I could tell that there is a lot of prazosium here – but also something far more unusual: the interior of Oric 3 is hollow.

Finally, some excitement in my life! About damn time. I pulled up the lance anchoring me to the ground, unclipped my long tether, and went hunting for any entrance to a cave or tunnel.

And wouldn’t you believe it, I found one. I switched on my head lamp and there, etched into the sides of the tunnel, were drawings. Good ones, too, real works of art. They all featured small furry creatures of a kind I’d never seen before, with gentle eyes, large ears, and tails as long as they were tall. Almost like tiny bears. The animals were depicted walking among strange plants; swimming in a pool of water as two suns beamed down on them; lined up like they were waiting for something.

Venturing deeper into the tunnel, I reached a vast room. Bright light illuminated the scene in front of me: a crowd of the little animals, swaying back and forth, tails and arms raised. They formed two concentric circles around a larger individual in the middle.

The larger creature turned its big eyes on me and I froze. I had the feeling I was intruding on something sacred. The others followed the gaze of their leader, parting as it strode through the crowd towards me. Before I could act, it laid its paws upon my feet, and I was thrust into a vision.

I stood in the forest I’d seen in the drawing. Light filtered through enormous leaves towering high above me. As I watched, a group of the small animals raced past me through waves of sweet-smelling grass, taking no notice of my presence. They were pursued by a hoard of tall four-legged beasts whose hooves shook the ground as they galloped after their quarry, trampling the stragglers. Smoking rays of light shot from the brutes’ narrow eyes, tearing through their helpless prey and leaving them sizzling on the ground. I watched, horrified, as the entire group was rapidly exterminated.

The vision shifted and I was pressed against the wall of a spaceship which rumbled as it struggled to escape the pull of the planet’s gravity. Through a small window I saw the hoofed beasts, weapons aimed upward. A steaming laser sliced through the ship’s side and several of the animals rushed to fill the breach with their own tiny bodies, melting into the crack, sad eyes turned to their families as they sacrificed themselves.

Then I was back in the cavern on Oric 3, the creature looking up at me. I read sorrow in its gentle face.

And I understood. These creatures were refugees, driven from their home planet by some alien predator. This small population is all that remains of their kind. My heart broke for them.

I thought, finally, here’s my chance to make a difference.

I reached out and placed my hand on the animal’s furry head. Don’t worry, I thought, gazing down into its soft eyes. You’re safe.

Somehow, I knew it understood.  

When I returned to my ship, I submitted my report to The Company: no prazosium here.

MANAT 27, 479, 20:75

The Company didn’t buy my story.

They’re convinced that there is a huge profit to be made off of this asteroid. They’re going to send another prospector to get a second opinion.

So I came clean. I didn’t tell them about the massive amounts of prazosium, but I did tell them about the creatures. Leave this asteroid alone, I said. There’s thousands of others, and this is the home of intelligent life. How would you like it if you were in their place, fleeing your home only to be destroyed?

I should have known The Company would have no regard for life. All they care about is money. They ordered me to leave immediately.

I can’t stand the thought of it. The other guy is going to get here, see that there’s a buttload of prazosium, and report back to The Company. Then the miners will come and completely eradicate this beleaguered species that has already been through so much.

I’ve got to figure something out.

MANAT 28, 479, 15:87

I had to do it.

Mr. Second Opinion got here this morning in a dilapidated shuttle. He stepped out in his scuffed-up suit, a cumbersome oxygen tank strapped to his back. I told him: there’s an intelligent species here, just pretend the asteroid is barren of prazosium and let it go.

His response was that he was going to do his job and get paid his bonus for finding the element.

Why? I asked. It’s just money. There will be more.

Yes, he said, that’s the point. Money. Look at my shuttle, he said. I need a new one, and this job will pay for it. Then if there’s any extra, I can send some home to my folks.

He was a good man.

I yanked my sharp anchoring lance from the dirt and thrust it into his oxygen tank. Air hissed out, the tank crumpling inwards as it deflated. He looked at me, shocked, and tried to speak, but his face distorted as he inhaled, unable to breathe. I quickly struck his side, toppling him to the ground. He struggled to stand up, but his outdated, chunky suit prevented any agile movement.

I rammed my lance back into the ground as hard as I could, then pulled him to his feet and poised to deliver another blow. He shoved me, and the force lifted us away from the surface of the asteroid, clawing and grappling. We bounced as my tether reached its limit. Weakened by the lack of oxygen, he could not hold on to me and was jerked free of my arms. Off into the black nothingness of space he sailed, arms and legs flailing wildly.

Numb from the shock of what I’d done, I boarded his shuttle in a haze and sent his report to The Company.

No prazosium here.