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... and it docilely admitted that it knew how... and then I had to inject
data for this particular landing, using the crib sheet supplied by Budget Jets.
Finished with that, I told the computer pilot to check what I had entered;
it reluctantly conceded that it had all it needed to land at Hong Kong Luna at
twenty-two hundred hours seventeen minutes forty-eight point three seconds.
Its clock read 1957. Just twenty hours ago a stranger calling himself
"Enrico Schultz" had sat down uninvited at my table in Rainbow's End-and five
minutes later he was shot. Since then, Gwen and I had wed, been evicted,
"adopted" a useless dependent, been charged with murder, and run for our lives.
A busy day!-and not yet over.
I had been living in humdrum safety much too long. Nothing gives life more
zest than running for your life. "Copilot."
"Copilot aye aye!"
"This is fun! Thank you for marrying me."
"Roger, Captain darling! Me, too!"
This was my lucky day, no doubt about it! A lucky break in the timing had
kept us alive. At this instant Chief Franco must be checking every passenger
entering the twenty o'clock shuttle, waiting for Dr. Ames and Mistress Novak to
claim their reservations-while we were already out the side door. But, while
that critical tuning saved our lives. Lady Luck was still handing out door
prizes.
How? From Golden Rule's orbit our easiest landing on Luna would involve
putting down at some point on the terminator- least fuel consumed, smallest
delta vee
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