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| There was no time to sit agonizing about nakedkombat one. I checked the tapes that held the endolin to my body, made sure I had my billfold, which held exactly forty dollars, some credit cards and a photograph. I patted the pocket of my plaid lumberjack shirt, my basic space-travel shirt; there were three cigars and a lighter. I checked my wristwatch; it was 2:43 A.M., Wednsday, August 23, 2064. I left my cabin, chugging with adrenalin, and scrambled up the ladder to the messroom. The hatchway was just past the dining table. There was a porthole in the door about a foot across; I had to stoop to look out. there wasn't much to be seen: white vapor rising from the ground, and searchlights. Near the door-release handle was a switch that controlled the footbridge. I flipped its safety off, took a breath, and pulled it. |