Spiky and Trun worked the handcart through the rails of the Jupiter mine. The increased gravity forced a stop after a few meters, short of the soldier outpost.

“Tell me why we jumped ship for this,” Trun wheezed.

“Big bucks in this stick-of-butter hydrogen,” Spiky gasped.

“Maybe. But I’d give anything for a decent piece of fruit,” Trun whined. “I’d kill for an apple.”

“Quit belly-aching. Buy an orchard later.”

“What’s that up ahead?”

Five men moving easy in accelerator suits appeared. A familiar voice spoke:

“You two didn’t think you’d worm out of your Ceres contract?”

“We can explain!”