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Gwen put her helmet against Auntie's, managed to rouse her and get her
attention. Was she bleeding?
Auntie didn't think so. Her arm was numb but didn't hurt much. Did they get
it? Get what? Something in the cargo. Gwen assured her that the bandits didn't
get anything; they were dead. That seemed to satisfy Auntie. She added, 'Taddie
can drive," and seemed to slip off to sleep.
Our third casualty was one of Lady Diana's husbands. Dead. But not by
either set of bandits. In effect, he had shot himself in the foot.
I think I mentioned that he was heeled-with his gun for God's sake inside
his suit. When the trouble started, he went for his side arm, found he could not
reach it-opened the front of his suit to get at it.
It is possible to open your suit and close it again, in vacuum, and I think
the legendary Houdini could have learned to do it. But this joker was still
rumbling for his gun when he collapsed and drowned in vacuum. His co-husband was
a half-point smarter. Instead of going for his own gun, he attempted to get at
that of his partner after his partner keeled over. He did manage to get at it
and to draw it but too late to help in the fight. He straightened up just as I
was pulling myself to my foot, after I stabbed the last of the bandits.
So I find this custard head waving a gun in my face.
I did not intend to break his wrist; I simply meant to disarm him
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