He hit the ground from a twenty-meter leap and only had to take a few bounding steps to slow down, keeping the momentum up just enough to bounce up the side of the crater and stop at its lip. In the distance, the remains of the crashed cop ship were still leaking enough volatile gases to keep a meager fire blazing away. A robo-fire-vehicle continued to spray foam down on the mess. There was no one searching the wreckage for survivors. Nice, thought Caleb. Glad I ditched that outfit. Another cop ship sat on an adjacent landing pad where he’d landed the Phoebe shuttle. Natalie had assured him that Albiorix security focused on detecting ship landings, not random people walking outside, at least at a distance. Seismic detectors around the moon would relay any unexpected landings. No one apparently ever considered a full scale assault. It was about detecting and discouraging smugglers and undesirables. There were cameras closer in, and if the new residents were watching, and why wouldn’t they be watching, Caleb would eventually be spotted walking toward the base.
