Maggie swayed. Ben and the big-eared little man jumped to her side, guided her back into the compartment used as a kitchen. They helped her to a chair. Ben turned on the fire beneath a coffee pot. Simple Simon watched silently.
Her eyes empty and staring, Maggie asked, "How did it happen?"
"We were heading into a clump of baby asteroids the size of peas. The radar warning was too slow. We couldn't pull away; we had to stop. The deceleration got him—crushed him. He lived for five minutes afterward."
The little man produced a folded paper from a pocket of his suit. "Jacob said he had some ideas he had to get down on paper. God knows why, but during those five minutes he drew up this plan for improving our deceleration compensator."
"Plans for—" she gasped.
"He was a spaceman, Mrs. Pierce." The man handed her the paper. Ben caught a glimpse of scribbled circuits, relays, cathodes.
"When he finished," the man continued, "he said to tell you that he loved you."
She started to hand the paper back.
The spaceman shook his head. "No, the original is yours. I've made copies for our own ships and for the brass in Hoover City."