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going to be a miner. Right?" I stared down at the metal table. "So when do you take off, Tabs?"
    " Just a little less than three weeks. And that was a bullshit answer." She stared at me hard.
    " What would you have me do? Hitchhike my way off of here?" I asked hotly.
    We stared at each other for better than a minute.
    Nick finally broke the silence, "So, does that mean you're getting a ride back on the M-Cor transport, Tabby?"
    The schedule of the Mars Colony Corporation, or M-Cor , freighters was well known and highly anticipated. We all waited for several months for supplies to be delivered. M-Cor freighters would pick up all of the refined ore in the form of ingots, which were destined for sale. It had been almost four months since the last freighter, and there were large piles of ingots at P-1.
    Conversation at the table stopped and the three of us listened to the music and experimented with our mugs of beer. While I didn't specifically dislike the drink, I wasn't sure what the big deal was. I did find myself becoming more relaxed as I quickly drained the mug. Within a few minutes of my empty mug hitting the table, our waitress asked if I needed a refill. I wasn't sure why I said yes, but it felt like the right thing to do.
    " You know Liam, the thing I don't get is why you let him push you around." In a million years I wouldn't have expected that from Tabby. We were friends, but she generally steered clear of family conflicts.
    " Say again?" I looked at her incredulously.
    " Okay, so maybe it's the beer speaking," she started out, although she was still only about a third into her mug. "But I bet anything you scored better than I did. You've always been ahead of all of us in math and spatial systems. You are a natural pilot, yet when you're faced with your future you just frakking roll over and play dead!"
    " Holy crap, Tabs. Tell us what you really think," Nick replied defensively for me.
    Tabby leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her beer. "Sorry, but it had to be said."
    I was completely caught off guard. Tabby and I verbally sparred all of the time - it was pretty much our thing. In a single sentence she had defended, attacked, complimented and challenged me. I was excited and upset and had no idea how to respond.
    So I said the only thing that made any sense to me, "I'm sure gonna miss you, Tabs." And I meant it.
    Nick and I spent Sunday working on my sled. One advantage to being a miner is that you work with a lot of equipment and used parts are easy to come by. James’ Rental had a considerable workshop where equipment was repaired. We had everything we needed and, with the help of our AIs, it was just a matter of work to get my sled back to better than it had been. Generally speaking, repairs never look like new, but then just about no piece of equipment in a colony does.
    To pay Nick back for his time, I agreed to drop off some equipment on the way back to my family's habitat. On the ride, I couldn't stop thinking about what Tabby had said the previous night. Was that why I was so upset with my parents and refused to talk about how much I didn’t want to be a miner? What other stupid option was available?
    Monday morning and the week started back on O-92. For the last several months, we had been clearing off a shelf of material that had extremely low yield. It was junk rock we commonly referred to as gravel.
    Work on a Hoffen claim ran for five - ten hour days in a row. We preferred to line up our workweek with the standard Mars/Earth calendar and Saturday mornings were reserved for transporting ore back to the P-1 refinery.
    We rent space at the refinery where we make giant piles of our collected ore. The refinery sorts the piles and refines the materials into intermediate products called ingots. These ingots are sold to M-Cor and that money pays for equipment repairs, salaries for crew, fuel, habitat atmo, claim fees, etc. As it turns out, the list of expenses is very long and everything else is paid