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Graham exhaled heavily, leaving a cloud of condensation on the inside of his helmet before the air could cycle it away. Precious moisture that would be reclaimed with almost perfect efficiency. Precious water that he would drink up again and again so long as the suit could recycle it to help keep him alive.
The last time he'd tried to cross the blasted lands on foot had almost killed him. He'd been saved by a paradox; a robot that was going off programming, but that couldn't violate one of the three laws and let him perish. The bot had carried him to the relative safety of the Fall and Graham had thought himself safe from Boss McKenna and her goons.
After dealing with Chuckles, McKenna's left hand, Graham had decided that there was no-where far enough on this planet that McKenna wouldn't send people to hunt him down. Instead he was going to pay off this foolish debt of his. It wouldn't cost him much, just a few grams of highly energized plasma and he could be sure that McKenna would never bother him, or anybody else, ever again.
Heading back to Katherine's Bluff by skimmer was a fool's maneuver though; McKenna owned the whole town, and he'd have a half dozen sixguns on him before he stepped off the arrival platform. Instead Graham paid good chits for an enviro-suit and started walking.
The blasted lands weren't nearly so bad when you don't feel the heat or the desiccating air. There was almost a stark beauty to them, to the wind sculpted rocks, and the rolling dunes of sand that collected in the lower areas. Graham trudged on wearily. He'd need to rest up once he reached the outskirts of the Bluff. Rest up and find out how to get close enough to McKenna to end her. In the meantime though he plodded onward, a tourist in hell, on his way to kill the devil.