Jordan pulled at the metal clamps and tension bars holding the pallets of freight to be dropped along the way to Omega Nine.

Near the back, large metal bands wrapped tightly around the large metal sarcophagus that held McGowan's mining suit.

Everything as locked down as it could be.

He turned and bent down to enter the low passageway that led to the main gun turret.

The turret itself was small. Not unlike the old gun turrets mounted on B17s two centuries earlier.

The addition of a gunner's chair here, though, seemed almost like an afterthought.

If the gun could be operated remotely, with the 360-degree space easily seen from the cockpit, why the chair?

Somebody had the imagination to realize there would be gunners ... like me, Jordan thought.

Where no screen-no matter how damned crystal clear the 3-D was-could replace sitting back here, swiveling, turning, circling, as a human, hands on the controls, aimed and fired the gun.

And though this SRV was perhaps the smallest vehicle that worked the Road, her main gun was ... something else.

Lots of power, fast response, and with amazing accuracy.

Capable of pin-point blasts as well as wide-angle scattershots that could take out a half-dozen attackers at once.

He had to admit ...

I hope something happens this trip.

Be a shame to let all that firepower go to waste.

He sat down on the seat, and for a few minutes practiced targeting as the seat pivoted and swerved. He smiled, knowing Mobius Control Center was wondering what the hell he was doing.

"All right, SRV-66, all systems check out. Got you synced to the Mobius Cloud ... Oh. Thought you'd want to know. Your gunner is still in the back. Practicing, it looks like."

Annie was about to tell them Jordan didn't need any "practicing."

But they probably knew that. That's why they put him on this flight.

"I'll get him back up here."

"And you're cleared to give your passengers their final instructions ... and then we're good to go."

"Roger that."

The man on the screen turned away, looking at his own bank of monitors.

Annie hit a button below a screen showing the main gun pod.

"Jordan. Showtime. Starting final prep."

"Gotcha."

Normally, an SRV pilot would deliver the instructions over the intercom.

As if this was a commuter run from Sydney to L.A. Though there weren't many "airplane" flights these days, and certainly not too many passengers using that outmoded flight system.

But Annie liked doing it more personally.

After all, it's just us, she thought. A handful of people, crossing a fair swatch of the galaxy.

Might as well put a human face on things.

She got up and turned to the stairway leading down to the passengers' cabin.

She also thought there was another reason to do this.

Get a good look at these people who'll be sharing this trip.

Who they are ... what they're doing here.

And ... always ... any concerns. They'd already been screened for their potential to get roadsick-but that screening was far from 100 percent accurate. You never knew. Someone could ride the Road a couple of dozen times and be fine.

And then: Nausea and vomiting were the typical effects of roadsickness. But sometimes brain aneurisms. Occasionally, a passenger could have startling psychological reactions. Get violent, need to be restrained.

Which is why every Road vehicle stocked emergency kits with neoprene collars.

And then there were the few times a passenger had to be "neutralized." That was another euphemism ... for what had to be done to get them to stop.

Which, depending on the circumstances, could be anything. One rule of the Road was that was always the captain's call.

Telling herself this would probably be another smooth and easy trip-routine-Annie headed down to the passengers' area.

Annie stopped at the front and looked at the passengers settling into their seats.

She knew their names from the manifest, which confirmed that they'd been checked out by Mobius Security.

And rechecked.

Then checked again.

Nothing to worry about here, she thought.

Unless, of course, Mobius Central screwed up.

Just like the Road itself ... the unpredictable could always happen.

In those seconds, she took in the group before they noticed her standing there, watching.

Sinjira Renku. Beautiful, exotic, legs curled up under her, ready to watch a holovid.

A Chippie, with the nub of hardware extending from her skull just below her cerebellum on the left side of her head.

But more than just a Chippie. She was a Creator. Such a lofty, pretentious name. Living and recording experiences for the masses who preferred their thrills to be vicarious.

Though experiencing a chip was so real it felt like anything but vicarious.

Still, Sinjira had to go places and do things to record. And she looked like the adventurous kind. Which explained why she was here. To capture this Road trip for all those who would never have the money or get past their fears to leave their safe home, much alone travel halfway across the galaxy.

Now the Chippie was talking to a man sitting across the aisle from her.

Rodriguez. A doctor. He appeared to be disinterested. Looking away. Nodding. But maybe he wasn't about to admit that he liked what he saw.

Before she could scan the others-she'd already taken McGowan's measure in the cargo hold-people noticed her and looked up.

I should start, Annie thought.

But she paused when she finally noticed the figure wearing a hooded cloak sitting in the backseat.

Annie glanced at the manifest: Ruth Corso. A Seeker. Not much on her.

Seekers.

Then: That, I don't get. As if we need-what?-a new religion?

Shaking her head, Annie focused on the job at hand.

"Good morning."

She waited. Now, everyone-even the Chippie-looked up.

"My name's Captain Annie Scott. I'm your pilot for our trip on the Road today. Normally"-she gestured up to the cockpit area-"pilots do the announcements from the cockpit. We're going to be together for a while, so I like to make things a little more personal."

Just then, Jordan emerged from the back gun turret and started up the aisle.

"I'd like to introduce our gunner-Jordan. Maybe the best gunner there is."

He looked up at Annie and-was that a smile?

"No maybe about it."

"He's modest, too."

The Chippie laughed, looking at Jordan like he was something she wanted to eat.

"We're cleared to leave Mobius Central, but before we do, there are a few things I want to go over. More for myself than for the Star Road Authority."

All eyes were on her.

Good, she thought. I want their eyes and ears wide open.

"We can never predict what might happen on the Road. Who was the anti-Road politician who said it's the Wild West out here? He called the Road 'too dangerous.' Said that anything can happen. And you know what? He had a point."

Rodriguez, the scientist, owlish in his glasses, dark eyes, sitting behind the Chippie. He looked like he didn't like the word "dangerous."

"What about what happened at the boarding gate today?" Nahara said.

"And," Rodriguez said, "the news. I heard there was an attack on some mining colony."

The scientist's face was tight with tension.

Had he been carefully checked out?

"Runners?" Annie said "Yeah. Sure. They're a problem. That's why it's damn good we have Jordan along for the ride. Runners are his specialty. But there are other things, Dr. Rodriguez-"

Sinjira looked up. All attention.

"You're a doctor?" She leaned close to Rodriguez. "Think you can drop a few scripts on me? I'll swap you for some ... interesting chips. Real personal stuff."

"I'm not that kind of doctor."

This trip is already turning interesting, Annie thought.

She glanced at the miner up front. Not a newbie. Relaxed but still listening.

Good reason to do that, Annie knew.

For even an experienced Road traveler.

Check out your pilot. Your gunner. The people you're traveling with.

All that could be vital information.

"Once we start moving, this SRV is under my command. On this vehicle, my word is law. Any of you get roadsick, you signed the waiver, and I'm permitted to collar you to keep you calm. We all good with that?"

She paused a few seconds as everyone nodded. Even the cloaked figure at the back.

Bill Nahara, who worked for the authority, held her with his steady gaze.

What's he doing, taking mental notes? she wondered. Will I get a report card?

"Final things, then. The Road manual you all got tells you what to expect as we leave. Your CL devices will all work internally, but once we're on the Road, they're useless for any standard commlink purposes. The only way we'll stay in touch with Earth is through the pod stations at our stops along the way."

She took a breath.

"Any questions?"