Ganymede, March, 2078, Sunday…

Carlos Quintero looked into the eyes of his boss.

"I'm not going to make it, am I?"

"We're doing the best we can to get someone here."

Pat Childers held one of the tech's hands. She hated when things went wrong in her construction projects. This time it was terribly wrong. She wondered what the crushed man looked like inside the spacesuit. Carlos' faceplate was already spattered with blood so she knew he had blood in his lungs.

"Do you know any bible stories, ma'am?"

"I can't say I do," she said.

"I do," said Tanya McKnight. The physicist squatted beside Carlos. "You've probably heard it before, the one about the Good Samaritan."

"Yeah, but you can tell it to me again." He started to cough. More blood covered the visor. "As best you can."

"Well, this stranger was traveling down the road one day out in the middle of nowhere and he spotted a body on the side of the road. A man had been beaten and left for dead. Even though he wasn't from around those parts and even though he had no idea who the man was, he went over to him, offered him water and helped him."

"Saved his sorry ass," said Carlos. "Even though he risked his own life and limb." He coughed again. "I'm thinking back to my childhood. Sunday morning bible school, there in Queens. I just knew that the Good Samaritan would never do that in New York City." He laughed a dry laugh. "He'd be afraid of getting mugged."

"Maybe, maybe not," said Pat. "You grew up in New York. Would you have done it?"

Carlos thought a minute.

"Yeah, I guess I would have. I wouldn't have been able to walk past. But not because I went to bible school, mind you. I had two moms that reared me right. They taught me lots. Caring was one of them."

"Where are your moms now?" asked Tanya. She looked at Pat, shaking her head sadly.

"I don't know. They're passed on. Passed on, they're passed on…."

He was dead, out there under the stars.