Jenkins was a fierce free climber, for a digger. Likeden they'd have made her a rift scout, or even a survey crewman, hadn't it been for the trouble on that deep drop some time ago.
Human bones. They just lie there in the ground, slowly degrading to the atoms from which they were originally created, often the only lonely reminder of a past life. Is there any information that can be garnered from bone?
Our ship / Is fueled / By a deuterium / Iceball—
"Composing is my choice of expression. [M]usic is my means of communicating; it's my means of relating to people. I can run my life with it. I can use it to fuel everything that I do. And that's how I define myself as a composer."