At the spaceport 1/3

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Marek:

We got out. I'm at a terminal in the spaceport. Not sure how much you guys saw over the link but this little caper was blown from the start. What idiot technician did you get to encrypt those credentials? Mine and Beanie's were fine, but Lefthand Pete's immediately scanned up as altered. I tried to talk our way out of it, but the gents at the security desk ate their Crunchy-Os this morning and were having none of it. Then lots of running and shouting, we dodged in here, and I end up messaging you from Loonie central with naught to show for my many pains and bruises.

If you would be so kind, tell management I am not rotting in a cell. I'll be in as soon as I can find a ride. Right now they no doubt think me arrested, naming names and crying for mommy but I most emphatically assure you this is not the case. Kindly do not burn my identity. I rather like the name and I still have stuff coded to it that I'd like to keep.

These daffy Loonies, I tell you. No fewer than three passersby have come up and high-fived me— completely unbidden—as I write this. &quot;It's our adventure, mate!&quot; the last one shouted. As if they're all going rock climbing or touring the orbitals or something. Yeah buddy. Enjoy your hundred-year ride in a freezer.

Just realized: how do I find a ride back when there's no arrivals at this place? God. Would that they had pinched me. At least then I'd get a hot meal.

To reiterate: tell them I am not incarcerated and that they do not need to burn my identity.

Back soon. Thanks mate.