The bullet faded, then erupted, a flash of white that blossomed out like a flower. The container’s rocket engines, taking it higher, out of the mesosphere, through the thermosphere, and into the exosphere where a drone from the Santa Maria would capture it.
The documentaries on spaceport operations were not the same as being here, feeling the reverberation of the launch, seeing the engines explode into a white blossom. Just out of arms reach, something, or someone had left this planet for the expanse.
He stood in the doorway of the cabin. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights. He didn’t need them to find his luggage, toss it on Viper’s crate, and pull the mess outside. He unfolded his leather luggage bag, retrieved a pair of black slacks and a white shirt. Fully dressed he laid on his bag and rested his head against Viper’s crate.
The Viking wanted him dead, or worse, as a strung-out patsy.
“Fuck you, Ed.”