Lemke winced in pain as he climbed to his feet, pulling himself up by the rungs of a freefall-proof barstool.  He heard the scraping of metal on fabric as the cops drew their guns.  "Freeze!" the voice boomed again.  He heaved himself through the space in the bar separating it from where the startled customers had just begun to react.  The lead cop fired twice as Lemke dove through the doors to the kitchen, the gunshots deafening in the confined space of the bar.  Fragments of plastic showered him as the bullets punched through the door.  Ears ringing, he staggered between the metal tables of the cramped kitchen.  He sprinted for the open passageway that connected the bar's kitchen to the service corridors next to the central cylinder of the habitat.