Unexpected Dilemmas
“Are you picking up? Chantal?”
Nessa ran another command through the large transmitter she kept in her back room. It indicated nothing wrong on its end; in fact, it confirmed it was finally getting through to the transmitter Chantal had been using on the Ice Star twenty minutes earlier. Nessa bit her lip. That the connection had cut out at all was a bad sign.
“Chan?” she asked again, hoping nothing serious had gone wrong. She’d looked up the Ice Star when Chantal had said she was booking it for the cheap flight and had seen how old it was—as far as Nessa was concerned, the old clunker should have been pulled from long space flight years ago and either scrapped or used for remote controlled shipments between Earth and the moon. But that was not how business worked.
“
