Igcenzio was just a little south of the equator about 800 miles or so from the vortex. As we spiraled in, the surface of Proxima unreeled below us. “Looks to be mostly desert,” Talon observed. “Yeah,” I agreed with a nod.

It was true, aside from the watersheds near the “oceans” most of the planet was covered by ruddy rock. Alluvial plains shot red fingers into the greenish blue waters. Closeups provided by Talon showed the desert areas dominated by scrubby bush that blanketed the land from horizon to horizon. Dried riverbeds showed there had been water on this planet in the past—and not so long ago as you might think.

The first settlers, in order to build the great production installations that make Proxima the manufacturing hub it is in this part of the galaxy, sold off about 75% of the natural water there. It might not sound like the brightest idea in the box but this is a fairly common practice considering how valuable water is these days. That’s just considering it’s value as fuel, not taking into account the myriad other uses there are for it.

“Locking into Igcenzio traffic pattern,” Talon reported as she shifted into the inbound corridor of the docking facility, still following Moon’s Leggo ship. “Final in 5 minutes . . . Igcenzio control on the com.”

I fielded the tower’s questions to their satisfaction and was given a berth for Talon. Moon and I would both deship at the Igcenzio version of Grand Central Station. Talon would find her own way to her berth as would Moon’s ship, which he called “Shakara,” by the way.

Talon touched down like a ballerina. Shakara was already down and a hatch was opening from which Moon stepped down to the plasmac. I unbuckled and popped the hatch. I noticed I was grinning, I was happy to see my old friend and as I shook his hand I remembered all the reasons he was such and it gave me a real good feeling. Good friends just don’t grow on trees.

The ships quietly lifted away and Moon and I headed for the slidewalks.