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. Only TISor 4 was heavily populated. According to Armstrong's report, the other moons catered to a few lowbudget resorts, several struggling factories, and lots of signs posted on lots of tracts of barren land boasting that they were "scheduled for future development." TISor 13 was the ideal location for a Hung factory. No one gave a damn what they produced or who they sold it to, as long as they provided jobs and forked over tax credits.
Xris and Ito checked into an old hotel on the end of what passed for the local social strip and waited until morning. Not much happened on TISor 4 at night, and the people liked it that way. The bars were quiet drinking holes, the entertainment industry was zero to nonexistent. Neither man felt much like being entertained. Xris called Marjorie. Ito checked in with Armstrong. The plan was still a go. No changes.
Armstrong had reserved a short-hop spaceplane for them. The courtesy hovervan from the rental agency arrived to pick them up early the next day. Xris and Ito showed their commercial pilot's licenses to a sleepy clerk, who barely glanced at them.
"Slot D," she said, yawning and handing over the codes needed to initiate the computer sequence that would fire the plane's engines. "I hope it starts," she added in a tone which indicated she'd be amazed as hell if it did.
They walked out onto the concrete tarmac and located their spaceplane--a shabby WR model in desperate need of a paint job
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