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the volume in my flight helmet.
     
       “Heads-up display.”
     
       “HUD enabled.”
     
       “Avionics.”
     
       “Avionics enabled.”
     
       “Artificial gravity locks.”
     
       “AGL’s check.” This exchange went on for another ten minutes as we assessed communications, navigational, and cryogenic systems. Max finally gave me the green light for ignition and I dimmed the cabin lights and did one more internal payload scan within the Zephyr.
     
       Scotty sat back and stared through the cockpit canopy at the bright overhead lights of the hanger, he was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being scanned. A small screen on my side of the instrument panel revealed the results of the sweep: all components secured, but my passenger had a porcelain sidearm in a holster strapped to his left ankle…a 9mm parabellum automatic pistol. His weight was also peculiar, he was heavier than he looked, and it just didn’t add up.
     
       The Zephyr’s primary engines slowly revved-up into a high pitched whine, and I checked the fuel pressure and disengaged the heat shield as I adjusted the tint of the HUD visor that connected me to the onboard flight computer. The LED status indicated the Gamma sensors began their exterior scan and I was getting readings on ambient temperature and oxygen levels.
     
       I flipped open the armrest on my left and inserted a DAT disc into a small computer called a Black Spyder that only I knew about. This thing was no bigger than five inches square and two inches thick, but had cost me a fortune on the black market. It was integrated into my flight computer by a Federation Techno that I had to pay on the sly to make the hook-up, but it was worth the investment.
     
       This tiny box was a jamming device for scanners, and digital and electronic counter-measure probes. It could also intercept and scramble all transmissions the Scouts and Interceptors would use to hunt me down the moment I left our solar system. Electronically, it made me invisible.
     
       I watched the launch bay door slowly rise in front of me and expose the darkness that encompassed the tarmac. It was a clear, windy night and the stars twinkled brightly over the city. The weather forecast in Nexus on my arrival on the 24 th showed sunny skies with a 25 knot western breeze, and I looked forward to getting there and having a couple of days to myself before coming back to Earth.
     
    “Blue Zephyr, 2-6, departure status, over.” Max’s voice crackled over the radio mechanically.
     
    “Blue Zephyr, Flight 2-6, destination Venus, status green for departure, over.” I replied.
     
    “Roger, Flight 2-6. Blue Zephyr is cleared for departure on Runway-3.”
     
       The ship lurched forward and we began to roll down the runway into the night. The blue nav-lights on the sides of the airstrip twinkled and I gazed at the silhouettes of the highrises of New Detroit in the distance. I turned into the wind and idled at the end of the runway waiting for the final launch confirmation.
     
       “Ever done space travel before, Scotty?”
     
       “Yes.”
     
       “So hyper-speed flight is not an issue for you?”
     
       “No issues.” Scott smiled as he lowered his visor and turned his attention to the runway.
       “Flight 2-6, airspace is cleared for take-off.” Max crackled.
     
       “Roger. Flight 2-6 is rolling.” The engines throttled to a scream and the Zephyr vibrated slightly as I disengaged the brakes and began to accelerate down the darkened strip. I engaged the afterburners and everything around us turned into a blur as Scott and I were pushed into our seats by the g-forces on take-off.
     
       In a matter of seconds the world below us transformed into a dark blue dome. I nosed up and entered the ionosphere. The
    g-suits kept our bodies stable and worked in conjunction with the Zephyr’s artificial gravity locks. I took a deep breath in an effort to relax as we