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. No, it
was not stuck. I slapped the shell. The jet kept on roaring and shoving us into
the cushions.
Gwen reached over and cut power to the computer. The jet stopped abruptly.
I tried to stop trembling. "Thank you, Copilot."
"Yessir."
I looked out, decided that the ground seemed closer than I liked, so I
checked the altimeter radar. Ninety something-the third figure was changing.
"Gwen, I don't think we're going to Hong Kong Luna."
"I don't think so, either."
"So now the problem is to get this junk out of the sky without cracking
it."
"I agree, sir."
"So where are we? An educated guess, I mean. I don't expect miracles." The
stuff ahead-behind, rather; we were still oriented for braking-looked as rough
as the back side. Not a place for an emergency landing.
Gwen said, "Could we face around the other way? If we could see Golden
Rule, that would tell us something."
"Okay. Let's see if it responds." I clutched the processing control, told
the skycar to swing one-eighty degrees, passing through headstand again. The
ground was noticeably closer. Our skycar settled down with the horizon running
right and left-but with the sky on the "down" side. Annoying... but all we
wanted was to look for our late home. Golden Rule habitat. "Do you see it?"
"No, I don't, Richard."
"It must be over the horizon, somewhere
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