The ship dropped from the sky like a rock. It plummeted down straight for the spaceport.

Thankfully, only the three of them were in the building, and they quickly made their exit. They watched from a distance as the small vessel suddenly stopped, a mere two feet from the roof, and resumed an upright position. It hovered there for a moment, then veered away from the structure to land on the airstrip.

They walked back to the building, the old man grumbling all along.

“The fool! Can’t even keep his ship steady! Should be banned from flying, that he should! Endangering people’s lives... Almost gave me a heart attack, that he did!”

Mrill said nothing as they went back in.

The stranger named Roff leaned closer.

“Think we could hitch a ride on that thing?”

The same thought had crossed her mind. However, she also had similar thoughts as the spaceport employee. How good was this pilot? Then again, he had stopped a seemingly unstoppable crash. Unless the onboard AI had handled it?

No, she decided, an AI would have acted sooner. It wouldn’t have gotten so bad unless the ship was damaged, but then it wouldn’t have been able to stop at all—except for human intervention.

Human or alien, she told herself.

The pilot had to be good, then. Perhaps even excellent.

As the old man returned behind his counter, Mrill crossed the hall to the other end to watch the ship through the glass panes. There was smoke coming out of its engine, but it did not seem too bad. A hatch opened and a small human jumped out. He stepped quickly away, then turned to consider his ship. He threw his arms in the air and looked down, shaking his head. Then he glanced around and started toward the building.

“I think there’d be enough room in that thing for both of us. What do you say?”

Mrill blandly considered the man who stood next to her. She had not noticed him following. Though startled, no one could have guessed it from looking at her. She was as expressionless as ever.

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“It might do.”

She turned and headed back toward the counter.

“Do you know who that is?” she asked, pointing at the smoking ship over her shoulder.

“A fool, that’s who!” The old man was clearly still upset. “I’ll give him an earful when he gets here, you just wait and see!”

“Was it a scheduled flight?”

“Scheduled? Look, lady, I’ve told you there was nothing scheduled for another two weeks! You think people just decide to come pick people up out of the blue?”

“Surely, ships that drop off travelers could pick others up before they leave? How can it be one-way only?”

That was a question she had asked before, but she never understood the answer she was given. Perhaps the old man would fare better.

“They would if there were folks wanting to leave, but there ain’t. Well, aside from you two, that is.”

“But where are the ships—the ones that drop off passengers? Why do we not see them?”

“You’re wasting your time,” muttered Roff.

The old man crossed his arms. “Is this where you arrived, young lady? Was this where you landed when you got here?”

Mrill looked around, then back at the old man.

“No.”

“Precisely.”

“I was told to come here.”

“And you were told right. Because this is where the outgoing ships are.”

Roff snorted. “Except they aren’t.”

The old man pointed a finger at him. “Now don’t you act all smart on me, mister, or you won’t be catching any flight at all.”

“What if,” said Mrill, “we went to the port of arrival? Could we not then board a ship before it left?”

“No, you could not.”

“Why not?”

“What’s the point?” asked Roff. “We have our ticket off this rock right there!”

He pointed at the pilot who had just walked into the spaceport. She could hear the man cursing and grunting as he walked.

“Because those are the rules,” answered the old man.

“I thought you only had two rules here—”

“Yes, yes, and that’s one of them. You!” He stood as he shouted, pointing a finger at the newcomer.

The other froze in his steps and blinked.

“Me?”

“Yes, you! Do you see anyone else here that I’m yelling at? You idiot! You moron! You incapable fool! Whoever taught you how to pilot?”

“Ah. Yes, I see.” He started walking again. “Gave you a bit of a scare, I wager. Sorry about that. Stupid thing broke down on me. Engine died, and the AI with it.”

The old man opened his mouth. Closed it.

Mrill looked at the pilot.

“That was an impressive save,” she said blandly.

He bowed to her. “Thank you, milady.”

Roff scoffed. “Milady?”

Both Mrill and the pilot ignored him.

“Can your ship be repaired?”

“Of course.” He turned to the old man. “If you can lend a man some tools—or, better yet, a fixer.”

The old man grunted. “No fixer. Tools are in hangar 5. Here’s the key.”

He pulled it out of a drawer and dropped it on the counter.

“We’ll help,” said Roff.

Though Mrill knew nothing about repairing ships, she followed the two men out on the airstrip.