From the author: You can't copyright a title so back off, Heinlein estate!
It was a bright and sunny morning, like it always was in low Earth orbit. Angel stepped out of the airlock and onto the surface of her home: the disk-shaped space station Multnomah. She was wearing an old-fashioned jet-suit and carrying a very important package.
“I’ll get you there,” Angel said to the small metal case attached to her belt.
“Who are you talking to?” said her little sister Carolyn over the radio.
“Nobody,” Angel replied. “Any sign of trouble?”
“You mean besides you?”
“I mean on...