"FWLS40" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

"Yes you can, it's the red button on the left! Look, I'll
hit it."

"Attention!" the communications speaker crackled,
frequencies usually closed forced into action. "We, representing
an anonymous client, want your cargo. Repeat, your CARGO. You
may leave unharmed if you hand over your cargo."

I tapped the comm panel. "Unknown big evil nasty-looking
terrorist type, do you have any idea who you're dealing with?"

"No, and I don't care. I have explicit orders to--"

I muted the channel, and grinned to Janice. "Virgin
territory!" I reopened it. "We'd like you to please broadcast
back to your evil leaders that this is the Disgruntled Postal
Workers courier service you're dealing with, and that we have
very reasonable rates. Once you do that, we'll prepare for
docking."

"Ummm..." the voice said, confused. "Err. Okay,
transmitted. Prepare to be boarded."

"And prepare to taste vacuum, shit for brains," I laughed,
closing the channel. "Okay, we're locked. Firing."

Three missiles neatly arced out from under the ship, bearing
down on their respective targets with pinpoint accuracy.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM. (Shame you can't hear anything in space.)

"Woooweee, look at all the pretty debris," I giggled,
spinning around in my chair as the silver-coated dust zipped on
by. "Life is good."

I stopped spinning, facing Janice. "How come you didn't
help me out there? I mean, yeah, walk in the park and all that,
but a little backup--"

"I'M BEING BLACKMAILED!" she screamed. "THERE! Are you
happy?!"

I paused.

For a long time.