Carmen Miranda's Ghost 11 - Sam Jones [HQ]

Thanks to rocketman0739 for providing high-quality versions of these songs,
Download the album here: https://archive.org/details/filk_carm...
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Lyrics.

Now I met Sam Jones on a dockside night, in a run-down Viking bar
A kid of maybe fifteen years, on that nearly-nowhere star
He had no ship, he had no skills, no Name or Family
And he looked at me like a thirsty soul at a boundless salty sea
For space is wide, and good friends are too few.

“Captain, take me with you! Captain, I’ll work for free,
I was spacer born and stranded here; dockside’s not for me.”
Now that tale sure is an old one, some stationer unwise
Had slept up with some spacer love, and got herself this prize
For space is wide…

And the kid grows up all restless, and dreams of faring free
Of stars and worlds and foreign docks, and things he’ll never see
“A spacer’s more than born,” I said, “he’s trained from infancy,
And you, you’ve grown up stationside, boy, you’re no use for me.”
For space is wide…

Well, I saw him take that hope of his and turn his face away.
Not give up, no, he’d never quit, just try further down the way.
“Hey kid,” I said, “you’re stubborn. If you work with half that will,
Well...our engineer could use a hand. We’ve got a berth to fill.”
For space is wide…

He stood there with that scowling look, as if he hadn’t heard
And then the tears ran down his face, but he didn’t say a word.
No, he never was much for talking, after we took him on board
“Yes sir, yes ma’am, no sir,” were all the words that he’d afford
For space is wide…

Now the engineer, Kate Meacham, well, her eyes were going bad
She knew I knew, and that kid I’d sent drove old Kate raving mad.
“Out!” she’d yell, and he’d lie low until old Kate got cool,
Then back he’d go and he’d do the scut while Kate would call him a fool
For space is wide…

In time, Kate’s eyes got much worse, and every crewman knew
But Kate herself, well, her heart would stop on the day she left the crew
That close-mouthed kid would never talk, he just covered Kate’s mistakes.
“Kate,” he’d say, “check the number four,” or “Kate, that’s nine-point-eight.”
For space is wide…

Now we made our rounds of the ports we used, from Halley’s to Almar
And one jump, all our luck ran out at a little K-class star
We hit a rock, a vane went down, the ship went kiting through
No way to stop, and no damn thing that a rescue ship could do
For space is wide…

“It’s the number three bar,” Kate Meacham said, “that’s broken on that vane.”
“I’ll send a man up,” I said then, first hope I’d entertained.
“No way,” said Kate, “it’s outside work, we can’t fix that from here,
And to pull that thing with a high-vee charge is a job for the engineer.”
For space is wide…

Now we rode in dust at three-quarters cee, with our shields all down and null.
“Kate,” I said, “it’s hell out there, dust is chewing up our hull.
It’ll chew a hardsuit faster still, ten minutes is all you’ll last.”
“Die now or later!” old Kate said, “I’ll just work a little fast.”
For space is wide…

Well, old Kate put that hardsuit on, she went out in the driving hail
Of high-vee gas that scoured our hull with a shriek like a banshee’s wail
Her voice came back so thin and weak that we could hardly hear:
“I’m on it now! I’m at the vane, I’ve got the cover clear.”
For space is wide…

And silence then, a long, long while, all drowned in static hiss
“Damn this thing! My faceplate’s fogged, my sight’s gone all to mist.”
“Kate,” I said, “get back inside. Someone else will go.”
But then I heard the aft lock work, two levels down below
For space is wide…

“Steady, Kate,” said the kid’s low voice, then while the minutes ran
“Easy, Kate, my suit’s brand new, keep low as ever you can.
I’ll find the pins, you tell me how, and I’ll get this bastard free.”
Kate’s voice then—we listened hard, caught about one word in three
For space is wide…

“Ten minutes gone,” we heard Kate say, then we heard the kid’s hard breath.
“I’ve got her! Shove the other in, hold on for life and death.”
Said the kid, “My arm’s gone numb! Oh, that’s it, now there, Kate, she’s in.
Get inside fast, get out of here!” He went to static then.
For space is wide…

“Boy, hang on,” we heard Kate say, then we heard Kate Meacham swear
And quiet then, just the static hiss and the stillness in the air
Ten minutes more, “Power up,” I said, for we heard no sound back there.
It was my hand shoved the lever home, and the power surged and flared
For space is wide…

Our speed ebbed down, and ebbed again, as we turned for that K-class sun
But Kate and that kid went on together on the trip they’d both begun
Old half-blind Kate and young Sam Jones made a hell of an engineer
So turn down a glass for such as they, and thank God we’re sitting here
For space is wide, and good friends are too few.
Yes, space is wide, and good friends are too few.

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