Eamon’s father captained a fishing boat north of Gothenburg. His mother owned the Swedish equivalent of an Irish pub. His brother, the unfortunately...named Nelson Nilsson, was in prison, don’t ask. But I bet it was drugs.Eamon said he was sorry I’d be flying back to the states so soon. “I’d like to see more of you.”“I’m in 505.”“You sure?” About a tryst.“Pretty sure.”Eamon took a shower first thing. I wish more boys did that. Of course sometimes ... Well, it was a fast shower. He loved my tan. I. "I've been flying this lunker for five years by myself an' I've been scrapping the zone for ten." She kept one hand on the small control stick while the other was busy punching buttons on the thrust equalizer panel. "And I ain't never needed anyone's help yet."Garth winced as the pieces of junk whizzed by; each one seemed a little bit closer than the one before. "I can't help it, besides, you don't need to be figuring thrust equations, you need to be flying the ship." What I need, is for you to. More

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