Sunlight glittered off the space station's alloy hull so that Devo's Disk hung like a golden crown against the blackness of space. Its multicolored navigational lights sparkled like precious gems, the forest ot antennae that circled the habitat's outer edge looked like gold filigree, and the mile-long rail gun that floated nearby had the appearance of a silver scepter.
Once, hundreds of years before, the disk had carried settlers to their new homes among the stars. But that was long ago, and now it had a different purpose.
Now it was home to thieves, smugglers, and worse.
And rumor had it that pirate ships stopped there as well, not the ragtag collection of bandits who plagued the asteroids, but the real thing.
Men and women who fought for the Confederation and lost, or were born to those who had, and made a precarious living raiding the frontier worlds.
In the beginning they were soldiers, defenders of a crumbling democracy, patriots who believed in a noble cause. They fought battle after battle but in the long run lost the war. Most surrendered, accepted the generous terms offered by the newly proclaimed Emperor, and turned their attention to war-ravaged planets.
But some refused to quit, vowed to fight on, and did so. Over time, however, idealism had given way to self-centered pragmatism and left them little more than thieves.
Powerful thieves, however, since the pirates had their own planet and other haunts as well, Devo's Disk being one of them.
Lando checked his readouts and cut the scout ship's speed. It was a handy little vessel, incredibly fast, and better armed than one might think.
Having entered hyperspace off Durna, the scout exited three days later near Eron IV, and headed in-system. This was where Lando had been born and spent his younger days. It was also the system in which his father had died and he was wanted for murder. A fact that took any pleasure from his return.
Impatient to get the trip over and return, Lando pushed the ship hard, racing away from Eron IV's fiery shape, and toward the darkness of the frontier. And there, hovering between the human empire and the dark unknown, was Devo's Disk.
The location was no accident. Following the example of countless merchants before him, Devo had positioned his business next to an important trade route, and thereby gained an advantage over most of his competition.
Positioned as he was, halfway between Eron IV's developed planets and the frontier, Devo bought rim goods low and sold manufactured goods high. People complained, but Devo had a standard reply:
"You want a better price for your grain? Fine. Go ahead. Spend the next week traveling in-system. The inner planets will pay you more . . . and get it back when you buy their fuel!"
When convenient, Devo gave the opposite argument as well.
"You want more money for your robo-reapers? Great. Take 'em out along the rim and sell 'em yourself. Assuming that the pirates don't steal your cargo, and the II Ronn don't use your ship for target practice, the settlers will pay you more. Good luck."
That was the honest and aboveboard part of Devo's business. But there was another part as well. Due to its location the Disk was also the perfect place to broker drug shipments, buy stolen goods, and sell supplies to the pirates.
Yes, Lando reflected, it was a good location indeed. He yawned.
The trip had been relatively quick, but even so, the better part of a week had passed since breaking orbit off Pylax and Lando was tired. Tired of Itek's superior attitude, tired of a trip he didn't want to take, and tired of the tiny ship. There was barely enough room for Lando, Itek, and Martinez to sit in the control area all at once.
Martinez was a pilot, a rather hot pilot according to Itek, although she didn't look it. At the moment she was slouched in the co-pilot's position, apparently half-asleep, humming tt herself.
She had short black hair, little-girl features, and a skinny body. It was warm inside the small ship and Martinez was dressed in regulation blue shorts and halter top. Lando noticed a small tattoo on her left shoulder. A skull and crossbones. Weird. Like everything else on this trip Martinez was a mystery, a piece of the puzzle, a part of Itek's master plan.
With Lando and Martinez sitting up front, Itek was crammed into a jump seat located slightly to the rear.
"Why the cut in speed?" the naval officer inquired, looking up from the holo reader on his lap.
"So they don't blow us into the next galaxy," Lando answered crossly pointing up at the main screen. "Take a look at that rail gun."
Itek looked at the main screen and saw that the silver scepter had changed position. It was now pointed in their direction.
"So that's a rail gun," Martinez said lazily. "A little outdated, isn't it?"
Lando shrugged. She sounded superior and he didn't like it. "A lot outdated, and far from the only weapons pointed our way, but that's Devo for you. He likes old stuff. Last time I saw him he was packing a pair of antique slug throwers. They were at least a thousand years old, but they worked, and they could still blow your head off."
"The philosopher has spoken," Itek said sarcastically. "And having done so, has time to answer that incoming com call."
Lando glanced at the control board, saw the flashing red light, and touched a screen. Two words were revealed as i faded up from black: "ENTER CODE."
The smuggler bit his lip. Once he entered the code it would change the rest of his life. By entering his personal code, then violating Devo's covenants, Lando would ban himself from his father's world. A world of corruption, theft, and worse, but one he understood.
And for what? Honest citizens would still avoid him, bounty hunters would still search for him, and he'd be stuck in between. Not criminal, not in his mind anyway, and not honest citizen either. It seemed that ever since his father's death he'd been on the run, not just from one world, but from both.
Itek cleared his throat impatiently and Lando typed in the code. It was a long string of apparently meaningless letters and numbers. He'd complained when his father had asked him to memorize it and been told to shut up and do it anyway.
When Lando was done, the words "hold please . . ." flashed on the screen, while Devo's computers checked his entry for authenticity. A fraction of a second later those words disappeared and were replaced by: "welcome, pik lando, you may approach," followed by a graphic display.
Itek nodded in approval. "Well done. It appears you're a criminal in good standing. Martinez will take it from here."
The sleepy look disappeared as Martinez sat straight up, glanced at the com screen, and took over the controls. Judging from the smooth way in which Martinez slid the scout into their assigned approach vector, the young woman knew what she was doing.
"Come on, Lando, it's show time." Without waiting for a response Itek released his harness and propelled himself toward the vessel's tiny lounge. Like most navy scouts this one came unencumbered by niceties like argrav generators.
By the time Lando reached the lounge Itek had already hooked himself to a bulkhead. "Lock on. We need to rehearse our plan."
"Why bother?" Lando inquired, backing into one of the four padded positions. "Why not slag the disk and be done with it? A battle wagon could do the job in half an hour, rail gun or no rail gun."
"What?" Itek asked in mock concern. "Kill hundreds of possibly innocent men, women, and children just to get the two we want? I'm shocked."
"No you aren't," Lando said stubbornly. "The navy does worse all the time. There's another reason, isn't there?"
Itek nodded approvingly. "Excellent. You can think. Yes, there's another reason, a good one. Our goal is to use these people as an example, to deter others, to prove we have teeth."
"So you need witnesses," Lando mused. "There's a problem though. A rather large one. Once we find the killers how do we get them off the disk? There are two locks, and no matter which one we use, the guards will stop us. End of story."
"I anticipated that," Itek answered calmly. "We'll avoid the locks."
"Avoid them?" Lando demanded. "How?"
"Simple," Itek answered. "We'll use explosives to make a new hatch."
"But that will kill everyone aboard!"
"Not if we seal the compartment off first," Itek replied patiently. "Then it's a simple matter of making the hole, stepping outside, and waiting for Martinez to pick us up."
"That's just wonderful," Lando said sarcastically. "Except for one thing. Devo's security team won't allow us to bring the explosives on board, or weapons either!"
"Oh, yes, they will," Itek replied doggedly, "because you'll smuggle them aboard."
"I'll what?"
Itek frowned. Lando's attitude was making him angry. "You'll smuggle them on board. That's what you do, isn't it? Smuggle things from one place to another? Well, here's a chance to show off."
"You're crazy, you know that?" Lando demanded. "Totally out of your mind. I don't do that anymore, but if I did it would take weeks of planning, and you're starting to piss me off!"
"Oh, I am, am I?" Itek demanded, his voice dangerously soft. "Well, consider this, Citizen Lando, either keep the deal you made, or get ready to spend the rest of your life on a prison planet!
"Now listen carefully. You're going to take the explosives I give you, plus some weapons, and place them in that trick suitcase you brought aboard. You know, the one with the secret compartment and the fancy electronics.
"Yes, I searched your belongings, just as I would anyone accused of murder. Then you're going to get that bag through Devo's security check or die trying. Do you read me, mister?"
There was a long silence as the two men stared each other down. Part of Lando wanted to say, "To hell with it, do your worst," but there was another part as well, the part that said, "He's right, you know, it could work, and if it does you keep the gold." The second part won.
"I read you, Lieutenant," Lando said finally, "and we'll do it your way, but on one condition. Once we get aboard I call the shots. Take it or leave it."
Itek smiled. "I'll take it. Now, let's cut the crap, and spend the rest of our time getting ready."
About four hours later the scout snuggled up against the space station's number one lock. The trip only took twenty minutes or so, but for security reasons only one ship was allowed to dock with Devo's Disk at any one time, so there was a long wait while other vessels loaded and unloaded passengers and cargo.
Lando and Itek were crammed into the ship's tiny lock. Both wore light-duty space suits with semiflex helmets pushed back over their shoulders. A bit cautious, but not unheard of when venturing onto a strange habitat, and not something to alarm Devo's security people.
As they waited for Martinez to complete the docking maneuver, Lando turned to Itek. "There's still something you haven't told me."
Itek grinned innocently. "Really? What's that?"
"Who we're after. It might help if I knew their names."
"Good point," Itek agreed mockingly. "Well, the answer is that we're after a man named Daniel Devo, and his wife Suzanne. They're the ones who murdered Nugleo."
Lando narrowed his eyes. "I hope that's your idea of a joke, Itek, because if it isn't, we're dead men."
"Don't be so pessimistic," Itek replied calmly. "He's just a man like you and me. Besides, we'll have the advantage of surprise. This is his home, his castle, the last place where anyone would attack him."
Lando felt pinpricks of sweat pop out all over his body. Anger rose and threatened to overwhelm him. Lando fought to keep his voice steady. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Would you have come?"
"No."
"I rest my case."
Contact was made, air pressures were equalized, and Martinez came over the intercom. "Have fun, gentlemen. Let me know when to pick you up."
Lando swore softly and stepped onto Devo's Disk. The lock was huge, large enough to handle fifty people at once, or a load of containerized cargo. As a little boy he'd wondered why. His father had forced him to reason it out, to think about the colonists, and the kinds of emergencies they might face.
What if they need to get in or out in a hurry? What if the other even larger lock was damaged? What if they had to decontaminate everything that entered or left the ship?
Lando smiled. Come to think of it his father had been good at that, good at answering a question with a question, good at forcing him to think. What should he be thinking now?
Lando swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped out of the lock and the hatch closed behind them. Martinez was gone by now, making room for another ship at the lock, and waiting for their signal. A signal that wouldn't come if they were dead. Lando pushed the thought down and back.
The reception area was even larger than the lock and full of people. All kinds of people. Glancing around, Lando saw leather-clad pirates, syntho-suited merchants, utilitarian rim worlders, and a dozen more. Some were preparing to leave and others were in the final stages of arrival.
A woman in gray body armor used a nerve lash to point out the green line painted on the deck. She had stringy blond hair and a bored expression.
"Welcome aboard. Follow the green line to the scanners please."
With Itek at his heels Lando followed the line through the crowd and arrived in front of the checkpoint just as a couple of middle-aged women passed through it. They looked cool and relaxed, but why not? They weren't toting a suitcase full of weapons and explosives. As the women disappeared through a blast-proof door Lando wished that he were going with them.
Glancing around, Lando saw lots of security scanners, four gray-clad security guards, and enough remote-controlled weapons to stop anything short of a marine assault team.
A man stepped forward. He had a hard face, muscular arms, and the word "security" stenciled across the front of his sculpted body armor. His voice had a singsong quality.
"This is Devo's Disk. We have rules. Break the rules and you will die. Rule one. All visitors must be unarmed. That includes projectile weapons, energy weapons, fixed blades, power blades, thrown weapons, explosives, nerve gas, poisons, toxins, lethal life forms, and any other device or organism that can be used to injure or kill sentient beings. If you have such weapons, surrender them now. You can collect them when you leave."
Lando was conscious of the bag. It felt heavier now, as if the explosives and the weapons had somehow doubled in weight, and were dragging the little suitcase toward the deck.
Receiving no reply the man continued. "Rule two. In order to come aboard Devo's Disk you must be known or sponsored by someone who is. Are you known?"
"I am," Lando responded, "and Citizen La Paz here has my sponsorship."
Though the naval officer hadn't said as much, Lando assumed he was a member of naval intelligence, raising the possibility that his name had found its way into Devo's data base. With that in mind they'd agreed to call him La Paz instead.
The guard nodded. "Place both feet on the yellow X."
As Lando stepped forward, the latticework of security scanners whined and shifted subtly.
"Stand still."
Lando did as he was told. An invisible scale weighed him, beams of light checked his height, ultrasonics probed the density of his body, an eye mapper scanned his retinas, while X rays slid through his suit and inventoried the contents of his suitcase. Or tried to, because the electronics hidden inside the bag took the X rays and did mysterious things with them.
This was it, possibly the most dangerous moment they'd face, and Lando fought to sublimate his fear. It was choking the breath from him, pushing his pulse upward, and causing his eyelids to blink. All things the machines could measure.
"There's only one way to beat your fear, son," his father had said, "and that's to accept it. Remember that it's there to help you, to protect you from danger, to keep you alive. So acknowledge your fear but get outside of it at the same time."
Lando wasn't sure if it was the advice, or the process of thinking about it, but suddenly he could breathe again.
The guard spoke again. "Thank you, Citizen Lando. You may step forward. You and your guest may proceed."
Lando nodded. The blast-proof hatch whirred open. Itek stepped through with Lando close behind. As the hatch slid closed the two men found themselves in a spotless corridor. Lando set a brisk pace. The sooner the whole thing was over the better.
The bulkheads were cream-colored and so heavily layered with paint that Lando could barely see the countless rivets that held the ship together. The deck was spotless and polished to a high gloss. A maze of pipes and electrical conduit ran overhead, each one carefully color-coded, and all bright with fresh paint.
"Amazing," Itek said as he looked around. "Absolutely amazing."
"Why's that?" Lando asked absently. Most of his attention was on the task ahead.
"It's so clean, like a battleship ready for inspection, or a first-class hospital."
Lando glanced his way, saw the other man was serious, and gave a derisive snort. "Oh, I get it. Criminals are filth, ergo, so are their quarters. You're the one who's 'amazing.' This isn't some frontier world bar, it's headquarters for an extremely successful business, and it's maintained accordingly."
"Oh, I see," Itek replied sarcastically. "A nice clean business built on drugs and murder."
Lando started to reply but thought better of it. No matter what he said Itek would find a way to twist it into something unpleasant.
Devo's Disk was laid out like a wheel. There were three main corridors. One followed the outer circumference of the hull, one circled the vessel halfway in, and one formed a perimeter around the command and control center located at the vessel's hub.
The outermost corridor was identified as "A," the middle corridor was labeled "B," and the innermost corridor was called "C."
The corridors were connected by spokelike passageways that were numbered "P-1" through "P-16" and radiated out from the command and control center to provide quick access to all sections of the ship. They were filled with people, coming, going, or just standing around. None showed any interest in Itek or Lando.
Itek started to say something, but Lando shook his head. "No you don't. My turn, remember?"
Lando led the other man inward, jogging left on corridor B, and checking to see if they had a tail. None was visible. Good. The last thing they needed was trouble with a security snoop or some bounty hunter.
Picking up passageway seven they followed it in toward th command and control center. That's where Devo and his wife should be, would be, if they were aboard, and Lando felt mixed emotions. On the one hand it would be a tremendous relief if the Devos were somewhere else, but on the other he'd be disappointed as well, having risked everything for nothing.
Suddenly the smell of food found Lando's nostrils and his stomach growled in response. A section of P-7 was given over to food and recreation vendors, all of whom paid a percentage of their profits to Devo. A wide variety of food, booze, and sex was available. Most of it was intended for humans, but some was geared for aliens, or those interested in a little cross-species experimentation. Like the rest of the ship P-7 was absolutely spotless.
Eventually the restaurants and bars gave way to a series of engineering spaces, followed by the hydroponics section, and a heavily secured data-processing facility. Corridor C was just ahead.
From exploring the ship as a child Lando knew there were four airtight doors that provided access to the command and control center, one off P-1, one off P-4, one off P-8, and one off P-12.
Of these P-l was the most heavily used and the only door open to the public.
Lando took a right on corridor C and headed for the point where it would intersect with P-1.
Itek drew alongside. "Where are we . . ."
"Shut up and listen. In a few minutes we'll arrive at the command and control center. I'll ask the receptionist if the Devos are in. Assuming they are, we'll force our way into their private quarters, get them into their suits, and set the explosives. The ceiling of their cabin should correspond with the outside surface of the hull. After that we make a hole and hope for the best. Understand?"
Itek frowned. "Yes, but . . ."
"No buts," Lando snapped. "The sooner we move the better. There's the command and control center, so get ready."
The command and control center was clearly marked and softly lit. The general impression was of hushed efficiency with only the hum of office machines and the whisper of ventilation to mar the otherwise perfect silence.
Antique furniture squatted here and there, beautiful in its own right, but slightly out of phase with the painted metal behind it. The walls were decorated with an assortment of curiosities ranging from old flintlock pistols to alien hand tools.
The only person present was a balding middle-aged man. He sat behind a glass-topped desk empty of everything but a comset and a single sheet of paper.
He was dressed in an immaculate business suit with a Devo logo over the left breast pocket. Light glinted off an enormous gold pinkie ring as the man brought a hand up to straighten his old-fashioned glasses. "Yes?"
The word spoke volumes. It said, "This is the center of the known universe, all that happens here is under my control, and you would do well to keep that in mind."
Lando produced his brightest smile and placed his suitcase in the middle of the man's desk. "Hello there. Are the Devos in?"
The man was both startled and taken aback. He moved back and away from the sudden invasion of his personal space. "What? Why yes . . . I mean no . . . not unless you have an appointment."
"No problem then," Lando said, unzipping the bag, "'cause we've got an appointment. As a matter of fact . . . here's our invitation."
So saying Lando withdrew a hand blaster and aimed it at the man's head. As he did so the smuggler was careful to keep his body between the weapon and the doorway behind him.
"Close the door please, and as you do so, make damn sure you hit the right button. If a squad of security people show up you'll be the first to die."
The man's jaw worked soundlessly as he stared into the blaster's bore and pressed a button at the same time.
Lando heard the double doors whir closed behind him and gave a sigh of relief. So far so good. No one would interrupt them at least.
"Now, send a little message to security. Tell them why you closed the doors, and whatever story you use, it'd better be good."
The man gave a jerky nod and swallowed. He touched the lower right-hand corner of his desk. A backlit keyboard appeared in the glass. As he typed, the words appeared on the upper portion of the desk. Lando read them upside down as Itek reached inside the bag for a blaster.
"Essex to security. Closed for two hours. D."
Itek used his blaster to point at the words. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Just what it says," Essex replied icily. "I shut down at Mr. Devo's request from time to time. No other reason is required." Essex was starting to recover now that the original shock was over.
"Fine," Lando replied. "Now back away from the desk. Good . . . Now I want you to . . ."
Lando never finished his sentence, because at that moment an entire section of bulkhead slid open, and Daniel Devo stepped through.
He was a big man with a mane of white hair, bushy eyebrows to match, and a ruddy complexion. He wore gray overalls with his own logo on the pocket, a utility belt, and a pair of knee-high black boots. Devo held a sheaf of printouts in his right hand.
"Essex . . . where are the . . ." He stopped suddenly at the sight of two men with blasters. "What the hell?"
"'What the hell' indeed," Itek said, easing his way around Devo. "Where's your wife?"
Devo frowned, his bushy white brows coming together in a solid line. "I'll be damned if I'll tell you. This is hopeless you know. There are only two ways off this ship and both are guarded."
A woman appeared in the doorway. She was a good twenty years younger than Devo and quite beautiful. She had long black hair, even features, and a well-sculpted body.
"Dan? What's going on? I . . ."
"Ah," Itek said, checking to be sure Lando had both men covered before shifting his aim to the woman. "Suzanne Devo I presume. And just in time for the party. Stand over there next to your husband."
Lando frowned. Something was wrong. What was Itek doing? Why bring her into the reception area when he should do just the opposite? Surely the Devos' space suits were located in their living quarters.
"Now," Itek said, "you're probably wondering what this is all about. The answer's simple. I'm an officer in the Imperial navy. A few weeks ago you killed an Imperial Courier, and now you must pay. Any questions?"
Devo looked from Itek to Lando and back, as if checking their sanity. "Pay? It's money you want? Why didn't you say so? I'm sure we can . . ."
There was a burp of blue light as Itek fired. As Suzanne Devo fell she revealed a scorch mark on the wall behind her.
Lando spun toward the right. "Itek . . . what the hell are you . . ."
But it was too late. Devo was already in motion. The flintlock pistol came off the wall brackets with ease and made a loud bang as it went off. The lead sphere hit Itek right between the eyes and went out through the back of his head.
Lando fired more on instinct than thought, his first bolt catching Devo in the stomach, the second hitting the top of his head as he fell. There was an audible thump as Devo hit the floor and perfect silence after that.
Essex and Lando looked at each other, both too shocked to move, both struggling to take it in. Itek has murdered Suzanne Devo in cold blood, not only that, he'd planned it all along. All the talk about taking them back had been little more than a ruse designed to gain Lando's cooperation.
Essex moved slightly and Lando's blaster moved with him. "Hold it right there."
Essex obeyed.
"Sit on your hands."
Essex stood, slid his hands under his ample rear end, and sat down again. Sweat covered the whiteness of his forehead and his lower lip trembled. Lando was a ruthless killer as far as Essex was concerned.
"Don't move."
Removing a length of monofilament line from his suitcase Lando tied Essex to his chair. With any luck at all the other man would be immobilized long enough for Lando's escape.
After taking one last look around, Lando grabbed his suitcase, stepped into Devo's private quarters, and hit a wall switch. The door slid closed behind him with a soft thud.
The Devos' quarters seemed small but were large by shipboard standards. Lando saw thick carpeting, a profusion of antiques, and the same soft lighting as the reception area. Wait a minute, what was that?
Moving left Lando saw a raised area, a sleeping loft, and hurried that way. The loft would save him the time involved in moving furniture around so he could reach the overhead.
Bounding up a short flight of steps Lando looked upward and laughed. There mounted flush with the overhead was a metal frame and hatch. A lock! An emergency escape lock. Of course! The Devos' back door. Would the lock alert security if he used it? Did it matter? After all, it should attract less attention than blowing a hole in the hull, and even if it didn't, the fact that the lock belonged to Devo might slow them down.
Lando climbed up onto the Devos' bed. From there it was easy to push the red button.
The lock opened with a hiss of escaping air. A motor whined and a ladder slid down. Lando reached back to pull his helmet on. When the helmet was in place Lando double-checked his seals, pressurized the suit, and climbed the ladder.
After that it was a simple matter of pushing another red button, waiting for the ladder to retract, and sealing the hatch. Three minutes later the lock was depressurized and open to space.
Lando felt a momentary lightness as he stepped out onto the surface of the ship's hull and left artificial gravity behind. Then the electromagnets in his boots kicked in and the feeling passed.
Reaching down Lando activated the small transmitter attached to his utility belt and removed two laser flares. He flicked them on and they strobed in unison. The response was almost instantaneous.
Martinez had already brought the scout in so close that Devos' security people were chewing her out when the unbroken tone came across her headset.
Cutting them off in midsentence Martinez added power and brought the scout in. It was something to see. Lando watched in admiration as Martinez came in only inches off the larger vessel's hull, paused while he climbed aboard, and accelerated away.
A few minutes later he was out of the space suit and strapped in beside her. "Any pursuit?"
Martinez kept her eyes on the instruments. "Yeah, but it's too little, too late. We go hyper thirty-three seconds from now."
"How 'bout the rail gun?"
Martinez smiled thinly. "They've been shooting at us for two minutes now and haven't hit us yet. Not all antiques work as well as that flintlock pistol did."
Lando started to say something but the NAVCOMP picked that moment to enter hyperspace. He felt the usual nausea and swallowed hard. With no nav beacon for a reference point random hyperspace jumps could be extremely dangerous. It was soon apparent however that Itek had anticipated this very situation and calculated the coordinates ahead of time. Another reason he and Martinez were so blase about the rail gun.
Lando turned to Martinez and this time she met his gaze. "How did you know about the flintlock?"
She shrugged. "I watched the whole thing live."
"You what?"
"I watched the whole thing live. There was a vid pickup and thin beam transmitter built into both of your suits. You didn't think we'd send Itek in there without keeping some sort of record did you?"
She shook her head sadly. "Itek must have felt real stupid just before he died, a flintlock for God's sake, but them's the breaks. You got it done and Essex will spread the news: "Couriers are untouchable.' Case closed."
"Just like that?"
Martinez gave a snort of derision. "Sure, 'just like that.' What? You want me to cry 'cause Itek was an overconfident jerk? Amateurs. Get some rest, Lando. I'll have you home in no time."