Space Fugitive
You lean against the outside of your spaceship, smiling and trying to look unimpressed. Mr. R., naturally, has arrived exactly on time. In his hand is a suitcase in which is contained, you have no doubt, five million dollars. In the hull of your ship is Mr. R.'s daughter, Rachel. For someone as beautiful and educated as her, it seems a reasonable enough exchange. "You have the money?" you call out. He nods. "Well, I have a button that will immediately flood the room your...