A speaker under the viewport throbbed with the sound of a human voice.
“Auto-shuttle SC 539, attention. You are assigned landing slot seven-three-one, Port Chicago. I repeat, seven-three-one. Dial that destination. Do you read me?”
Three times the message was repeated before Mryna concluded that it was meant for her. She found three small knobs close to the speaker and a plastic toggle labeled “voice reply.” She snapped it shut and found that she could speak to the Chicago spaceport.
Her problem was easily solved, then. She could say she came from Rythar. Without hesitation, Earth ships would be sent to blast her ship out of the sky before she would be able to land. But she knew she had to accomplish more than that; the same mistake must not be repeated again.
[p65] “How much time do I have?” she asked.
“Thirty-four minutes.”
“Can you keep this shuttle up here any longer than that?”
“Lady, the auto-pickups are on tape-pilot. Come hell or high water, they land exactly on schedule.”
“What happens if I don’t dial the slot destination?”
“We bring you in on emergency—and you fork over a thousand buck fine.”