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."
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.
