Free The Hunted Assassin by Paul B Kohler

sleeve, revealing a flexible vid display stitched into his environmental suits arm. A couple taps on the screen with his gloved hand and the condition of his environmental suit filled the display.
    Oxygen level: ninety-six percent.
    Time to depletion: three hours, forty-seven minutes.
    Power level: eighty-four percent.
    Time to recharge: seven hours, two minutes.
    Happy that his suit had maintained its reserve levels so well while sitting in a crate for such a long period, Jaxon cleared the display and brought up a proximity guide to sort out his current location.
    As the map slowly generated, Jaxon continued to scan the horizon, hoping to glimpse some kind of structure or habitat that he could head for. After several minutes of squinting across the moon’s surface, a notification alarm dinged in his ear.
    The map displayed the escape pod’s location—on the edge of Rehlo Crater, just a few dozen clicks from Mare Cognitum. According to the readout, that particular parcel of the moon’s surface had been leased out for private strip mining. Jaxon quickly tapped the more info button, but no further information could be displayed.
    Returning to the map display, an amber-colored arrow blinked slowly at his current location. He increased the magnification level and found a substantially sized structure just outside of the crater’s edge. It was just under three kilometers toward the southern pole, and it wouldn’t take him all that long to get there.
    Jaxon stretched, took a series of deep breaths, and began to walk in the direction of the structure, noting how strange it felt to be walking in such low gravity again. As his pace increased, he concluded that the distance might pass much quicker than anticipated due to the lightness of his footsteps. Each step expending much less physical energy than what he was used to.
    With a moderate walking pace established, Jaxon’s mind switched to survival mode. He analyzed his life on Taloo Station and wondered where he might have gone wrong. He’d made it eight years there before being discovered. At least as far as he knew, that was. Then, nearly a dozen assassins were sent to take him out.
    His first question: who sent the killers? Was it someone that he’d wronged somehow in his past life? Could it possibly be the company coming for him after discovering that he was alive all along?
    Second question: where could he go now? Jaxon’s mind chewed on that thought for some time.
    The answer to the second question was very much related to the first. If he knew who it was that was after him, he’d much better be able to determine the length he’d have to travel for self-preservation. There was no use heading for another inner-ring space station if the facial recognition present at nearly every entry portal would certainly give him away. Same thing for entering Luna City. That’s assuming that it was the company that was after him.
    Jaxon sighed deeply. It became apparent that his only alternative might be to head to the outer ring, where crime and corruption were the daily norm. The company would be less likely to pursue him there. That’s also assuming that he could even survive long enough to get there. The question still remained: Who was after him, and how far would they go to kill him?
    Having hiked the first kilometer without any contact, in the far distance Jaxon could make out what appeared to be some kind of surface vehicle. A moon buggy. And it was heading directly toward him.
    “Looks like it’s about game time,” Jaxon mumbled.
    Jaxon continued on his current heading as he watched the buggy grow in size as it closed the distance. Within minutes, the transport was nearly upon him. Seated behind the clear bowl-shaped windshield was an older man with a gray beard, much longer than Jaxon had seen in years. He wondered just how somebody with that much facial hair could even wear an environmental suit.
    As the buggy stopped, the old-timer waved at Jaxon then motioned him