Bypass Gemini

ol

ts to scream angry messages. There was a pop and the whole ship lurched downward. Lex pulled madl

, idiot. Alter course or become a part of i

s! Out of control! Request immed

ainst the belly of the ship, the sound l

ou now, you have got your head so-o-o-o

loating metal passed through the antenna array. It didn't slow

Decompression detected. Affix supplemental oxygen

as they began to charge up. Lex cinched the straps of the mask tight and waited for the field to snap into place. As he waited, listening to the voice make its customary warnings about k

age!" he

ored the proper atmospheric pressure. He took a deep breath, pulled up the backup controls from the side of the harness, and tried to get control over the ship. The pilot-assist appar

serenely declared a full hull breach, just in time for a second chunk to shatter through completely. Time seemed to slow as it continued through unimpeded. It spun in air before him for several seconds before it occurred to him that time didn't just seem to slow. . . it d

ling along in their orbits. Bits of his ship's window drifted through the cabin, glancing harmlessly off of the emergency field around his chair. As a blunt, irregularly-shaped piece of wreckage, now moving s

ething like that. Lex had never been good with details. Time withi

reased, but because the seconds outside of the field were comparatively increased. The result was that the hunk of high-density tungsten that had formerly been moving several thousand miles an hour toward his forehead now

ad decided to shoot at him? Why did this planet, supposedly uninhabited, have a lunatic shouting profanities at him over the com system? Did it have a breathable atmosphere? How exactly would a bubble of compressed time protect him from becoming a thin red paste when h

ong in his life that he h

pte

today, T?" as

e on the apron said Mel, though it was anyone's guess why, since his name was Marv. He'd run "Starvin' Marvin's Curb Counter" for about as long as anyone could remember. It was almost literally a hole in th

nd call me Lex, wou

them or other people didn't. Unfortunately, a brief and notable flirtation with celebrity a few years back had stuck him with "T-Lex, " a name so awful it could

n, and a bag of chips,

that coffee while you're at

orporate logo, a messenger bag plastered with the same, and cargo pants that, while functional, weren't terribly fashionable. A few hours of sleep and a minute or two with a comb would probably earn him the description "handsome, " or at least "rugged, " but at

ough there hadn't been much business on that end lately. Planet Golana was basically nothing but a big shipping hub. There were loads of big businesses, and thus loads and loads of white collars floating around, but most of th

ell. . . the less said

of the bowl into his mouth. It wasn't so much eating as refueling, a procedure so practiced and mechanical that he tended to use it as a time to organize his plans for the rest of the day. With his free hand, he fumbled ar

ly assigned one at birth. The little pad served the purpose of a cell phone, PDA, day planner, key chain, voice recorder, wallet, game system, media player, and virtually anything else one might need in the day. He slid his finger across the screen, causing

. The lack of work was the real problem. There were at least a dozen people and companies he owed money to, though fortunately none of them were the sort who would break his knees if he fell be

t you pay your tab?" he suggested, hi

sigh

, though, I have to turn t

later and the pad was vibrating, flashing, and chiming its way through all of th

ou just leav

rities around. . . and the other thing. Unwanted distract

00 cre

ha

ld pay more tha