“Your co-ordinates,” Kennon snapped. “Over.”
“280.45—67.29 plus. Repeat—request your identification.”
“Pilot Kennon, Jac, Beta 47M 26429. I have no I.D. for the ship—and you’ll see why when I land. Over.”
“Hunterstown Port to Kennon. You are not—repeat not—cleared to land. Go into orbit and report your position. Over.”
“Sorry, Hunterstown. You wouldn’t have checked in if you didn’t have room, and a hospital. This is an emergency. I’m setting down. Out.”
“But—” The words got no farther. Kennon was already spinning the ship.
“All right—we have you on the scope. But this is a class one violation. You may come in on Landing Beam One.”
“Sorry. I have no GCA.”
“What?—what sort of ship are you flying?” The voice was curious.
“I’m matching intrinsics over your port. Talk me in when I break through the overcast.”