“Real weird,” the mechanic agreed readily. “Two emergency beacons failing like that.”
“Wonder who did the last service checkouts on both skimmers?” The visitor eyed the mechanic thoughtfully.
The painter put up both hands. “Whoa there, brother. Wasn’t me. I’d have remembered. Authority’s already been through here, questioning everybody, and that was one of the first questions.” He returned to his paraphernalia. “By rights, somebody ought to be in line to catch hell. But there aren’t that many of us who do that kind of preflight checkout work, and everybody’s work pad checked out clean. I know mine did.”
The other man nodded. “Anybody else have access to vehicles besides pilots and mechanics?”
“Just the usual service teams and automatons.” The mechanic looked penetratingly at his visitor. “Are you implying something, bro, or are you just fisq hunting?”
“I’m just curious. Me, when I go out I make sure to run my own preflight systems check. I’m just wondering, that’s all.”
The mechanic was now thoroughly involved in his visitor’s speculations. “Wondering what, bro?”
The taller man looked away. “Just farting in a vacuum. Wondering if maybe somebody might want a prospector, or just a human, to disappear in the Viisiiviisii, for reasons of their own. Seems to me anybody who would do something like that to an unsuspecting prospector wouldn’t hesitate to interfere with a rescue team.”
Moving closer, the intensely interested mechanic lowered his voice. “You got anybody in mind?”
The visitor glanced around to make sure they weren’t being monitored. Everyone else in the hangar was busy with their own work. “I’ve got a couple of ideas, sure. Hasn’t everybody?”