My Own Kind of Freedom, page 69 by Steven Brust
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d from it. "Mal, we have a visitor."
His eyes still closed, he found the button, pushed it. "I'll be right up."
He opened his eyes, heaved himself up and made his way to the bridge. Wash was staring at the console, fine tuning.
"Some sort of armored vehicle," he said. "About half a click away, coming on slow. Should I deploy the guns?"
"We don't have any guns."
"Oh, right. I keep forgetting that. Why don't we have any guns?"
"How long to warm up and go?"
"Uh . . . two minutes, if Kaylee is ready."
If Kaylee is ready, thought Mal. Well, she'd said a couple of hours, and that usually meant ninety minutes. He checked the clock, then hit the intercom.
"Kaylee, we ready?"
"Any time, Cap'n."
"Take us up as soon as you can, Wash?"
"Out of the world?" he asked, even as he was running through the warm up.
"No, we're just going to scoot a bit."
Wash didn't answer. It looked like something was bothering him, but there was no time to worry about it now.
"Wash, give me sound."
It took Mal a moment to identify the sound of trees rustling in the wind, followed by a low motorized hum.
"Is it in sight yet, Wash?"
"Uh . . . no. But it has to be close. I'm trying to bring it . . . there it is."
"Yeah, all right. Armored car, single-mount squatter on it. Could be worse."
"How?"
"Well, the squat could be pointed at us."
"Isn't it . . . ?
"Yeah, it's turning. Are we warm?"
"We're warm."
"Go."
Wash pushed the throttle and a roar filled the bridge.
"Mafan ni ba waitou de shengyin guandiao, Mal?" said Wash.
Mal reached forward clicked off the external, and the sound abruptly died.
"Thank you," said Wash.
"Bring us up to five clicks."
Zoë came in to the bridge. "So, we're leaving?"
"We're avoiding a squatter," said Mal.
"A squatter, sir?" Zoë frowned, and Mal saw her mind working
"Mount