Vestan adj.

Mighty flexible and generous, the Vestan corporation laws, sir. Nothing like those of Earth and Mars. Initial fees nominal, sir, and the taxes are practically nothing.

I was on Vesta about ten-eleven years ago, and I asked if the piece of the wreck we brought down was still there and they said sure, who would cart it away? So I thought I’d take a look at it and shot over by reaction motor strapped to my back. With Vestan gravity, you know, a reaction motor is all you need.

If we employ subliminals equating Vestan patriotism with Renascence, we should neutralize public opinion fairly rapidly. Within fourteen days, I would say. [...] Enthusiasm for the project will take more time. A three-vee drama showing children of Vesta in the Renascence environment might do nicely.

The hotel was not one of the more memorable examples of Vestan architecture. Constructed in the Polka Dot Period, it bore large green dots on an orange field; the color combination made her stomach twinge. It stood ten stories tall and was frayed at the edges. She entered the lobby.

She let them lead her over to the stationary treadmill and help her strap in. Yes, Ms. understood she had to work up to her full speed, whatever that was. The ’mill whirred into action, and she leaned into it, her legs extending in the long, long Vestan strides that made it easy to rack up immense distances without a whole lot of resistance. Overhead, the monitors showed news, market reports, and announcements.

‘Citizen’s arrest! Citizen’s arrest!’ The shouter was a belter, stretched and lanky with wild eyes and an unshaven face, hanging from a battered frame pitted with dents and with colors gone raw. Vestan accent, too—just great. ‘You’re a sovereign profiteer of destruction! You’re a threat to the all! I place you under citizen’s arrest on behalf of the proud people of this moon!’