Here we go!
Heinlein Station
American Administrative Zone
Luna
2103 AD
“I know you all think I’m space-happy,” Webster Domaine told the interrogator, “but I’m not. That wasn’t Tam! I could tell.”
Nobody had ever sent handcuffs or even zip-ties up to the moon, so Security these days had to improvise with braided computer cables and salvaged privacy locks. Domaine was tied to his chair at waist level, and his hands were just loose enough to let him pick up a bulb of vegetable broth. Commander Tobias Marsh wasn’t sure if the bonds would hold if Domaine was space-happy, but they’d certainly slow him down enough for Security to just shoot him.
Dammit, they weren’t supposed to send pistols up here either, Tobias thought as he sipped his own bulb of broth. Coffee, tea, and particularly cocoa were now only cruel memories. Why couldn’t they have smuggled up some of the non-lethal stuff, too?