Sam Jones

Now I met Sam Jones on a dockside night, in a run-down Viking bar
A kid of maybe fifteen years, on that nearly-nowhere star
He had no ship, he had no skills, no name or family
And he looked at me like a thirsty soul at a boundless salty sea
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

“Captain, take me with you; Captain, I’ll work for free,”
I’m a spacer born, and stranded here; dockside’s not for me,”
Now that tale sure is an old one, some station run wise
And slept up with some spacer love, and got herself his prize
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

And the kid grows up all restless, and dreams of fairing free
Of stars and worlds and foreign docks, all things he’ll never see
“A spacer’s more than born,” I said, “he’s trained from infancy,”
And you, you’ve grown up stationside, well you’re no use for me.”
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

Well I saw him take that hope of his and turn his face away
Not give up, no, he’d never quit, just try further down the way
“Hey kid,” I said, “you’re stubborn. If you work with half that will,”
Well our engineer could use a hand, and we’ve got a berth to fill.”
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

He stood there with that scowling look, as if he hadn’t heard
And then the tears ran down his face, but he didn’t say a word
No, he never was much for talking, after we took him on board
“Yes Sir, Yes Ma’am, No Sir,” were all the words that he’d afford
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

Now the engineer, Kate Meechum, well her eyes were going bad
She knew I knew, and that kid I’d sent drove old Kate raving mad
“Out!” she’d yell, and he’d lie low until old Kate got cool
Then back he’d go and he’d do the scut while Kate called him a fool
For space is wide and good friends are too few

In time, Kate’s eyes got much worse, and every crewman knew
But Kate herself, well her heart would stop on the day she left the crew
That close-mouthed kid would never talk, he’d just cover Kate’s mistakes
“Kate,” he’d say, “check the number four,” or “Kate, that’s nine-point-eight.”
For space is wide and good friends are too few

Now we made our rounds of the ports we used, from Halley’s to Allmar
And one jump, all our luck ran out, at a little K-class star
We hit a rock, a vane went down, the ship went kiting through
No way to stop, and no damn thing that our rescue ship could do
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

“It’s the number three bar,” Kate Meechum said, “that’s broken on that vane,”
“I’ll send a man up,” I said then, first hope I’d entertained
“No way,” said Kate, “it’s outside work, we can’t fix that from here,”
And to pull that thing with a heavy charge is a job for an engineer.”
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

Now we rode in dust at three-quarters speed, with our shields all down and dulled
“Kate,” I said, “now it’s hell out there, dust is chewing up our hull.”
It’ll chew a hardsuit faster still, ten minutes is all you’ll last,”
“Die now or later!” old Kate said, “I’ll just work a little fast.”
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

Well old Kate put that hardsuit on, she went out in the driving hail
Of high-v gas that scoured our hull with a shriek like a banshee’s wail
Her voice came back so thin and weak that we could hardly hear
“I’m on it now! I’m at the vane, I’ve got the cover clear.”
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

In silence then, a long long while, all drowned in a static hiss
“Damn this thing! My faceplate’s fogged, my sight’s gone all to mist.”
“Kate,” I said, “get back inside. Someone else will go,”
But then I heard the aft lock work, two levels down below
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

“Steady, Kate,” said the kid’s low voice, then while the minutes ran
“Easy, Kate, my suit’s brand new, keep low as ever you can.”
I’ll find the pins, you tell me how, and I’ll get this bastard free,”
Kate’s voice then, we listened hard, caught about one word in three
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

“Ten minutes gone,” we heard Kate say, then we heard the kid’s hard grip
“I’ve got her! Shove the other in, hold on for life and death.”
Said the kid, “My arm’s gone numb! Oh that’s it, now there, Kate, she’s in.”
Get inside fast, get out of here,” he went to static then
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

“Boy, hang on,” we heard Kate say, then we heard Kate Meechum swear
And quiet then, just a static hiss, and the stillness in the air
Ten minutes more, “Power up,” I said, for we heard no sound back there
It was my hand shoved the lever home, and the power surged and flared
For space is wide, and good friends are too few

Our speed ebbed down, and ebbed again, as we turned for that K-class sun
But Kate and that kid went on together on that trip they’d both begun
Ah, half-blind Kate and young Sam Jones made a hell of an engineer
So turn down a glass for such as they, and thank God we’re sitting here
For space is wide, and good friends are too few
Yes, space is wide, and good friends are too few