Belter n.

They’ll be armed for us, and a weapon is a weapon…. Belters, they’re always waiting for the first ET. They’ll be armed for bear.

You noticed a habit of mine once. I never make gestures. All Belters have that trait. It’s because on a small mining ship you could hit something waving your arms around.

When a Belter stops being neat it’s like suicide.

Those hotels, and the scattered hotels in the other bubbleworld, served every Belter’s occasional need for an Earthlike environment.

The Belt, he thought. I'm going to be a Belter now.

Belters are asteroid miners—they flit from asteroid to asteroid, slicing them up for the mineral wealth they presumably contain.

One supposes there’s a local source of both energy and fuel in the Belt, of course, or there couldn’t be a Belter Civilization to begin with.

Belters aren’t scientists. They’re gamblers, idealists, thieves, crazies, malcontents. Most of us are from the cylinder worlds orbiting Earth.

And there is the multitude of Belter worlds, each unique.

Nervous man, Ben Pollard. Twenty-four and hungry, a Belter kid only two years out of ASTEX Institute.

Cameron gave me an eager, anxious look, backed away, spun around with the expert grace of a belter, and took a tunnel leading to the surface.

The Belters were old-school OPA [sc. Outer Planets Alliance], grizzled veterans of the endless insurgent war with the inner planets before Laconia came and made that irrelevant.