Pegasus In Space
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Серия: Talents #3
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Pegasus In Space». Краткое содержание книги:
For an overpopulated Earth whose resources are strained to the breaking point, there is only one place to look for relief: straight up. With the successful completion of the Padrugoi Space Station, humanity has at last achieved its first large-scale permanent presence in space. But there are those who, for motives of their own, want Padrugoi to fail. Standing in their way are the Talented, men and women gifted with extraordinary mental powers that have made them as feared as they are respected--and utterly indispensable to the colonization effort. Now, as sabotage and attempted murder strike the Station, it's up to the Talented to save the day. Only who is going to save the Talented?
Pegasus in Space is the tale of Peter Reidinger, first Tower Prime!
Then, like running into a wall in the dark, Peter felt a psychic stop. God! Had he missed? Had he reached his limit somewhere out there between Earth and Mars? Would men and women die because he was overconfident?
Breathe, kid.
Peter felt the elbow in his ribs. Opening his eyes he exhaled, sparkles of imminent anoxia dancing before his eyes. He let himself collapse in the chair.
"Have you done it yet?" Dirk asked anxiously, his eyes dark with concern. Someone loomed beside him on the screen. "Shandin said the generators went off the gauge."
"We can't be certain, Dirk," Johnny said, panting. "But we sure did give it a damned good try, the three of us…" He grinned at Lance. Tone-deaf he may be, but he's an asset. We'll tell him how and why later. "Knew you'd be a help. Tell Captain Vartry to look in their ship. Only space we knew wouldn't be occupied."
"Yes, of course, the ship would be a logical telepad." Dirk Coetzer took a deep breath, his eyes unfocusing briefly.
"Now don't get any ideas, Dirk," Johnny cautioned him, quickly raising one hand in restraint.
"No, no, of course not," he said, but there was just that little curl of his mouth that suggested he was not above thinking ahead. "There's a communications lag, you know."
"I know," Johnny said. "It's only thirty-seven million miles from here. Take exactly 198.6 seconds-3 minutes and 18.6 seconds."
"That long?" Peter said, desperately wanting it all to have happened simultaneously.
"And to come back," Johnny said with admirable sangfroid.
"Drink this," Lance said, putting a glass of orange juice in front of Peter, who was leaning limply back in his chair, and fresh coffee in front of Johnny.
Do you realize what we just did? Peter asked.
We shipped a package all the way to Mars, that's what we just did, Johnny replied.
We hope, Peter said with a gulp. We also just merged our minds. We did WHAT? Johnny leaned forward so quickly that he nearly knocked the cup off the surface.
Lance stared at Peter, his mouth dropping open.
I felt you, and Peter pointed at the General, and then you, his finger went to Lance, come in to help me push. We were all in on that one! Oh, we've talked together over distance, but we've never combined to 'port anything. This, my friends, is a major breakthrough! With that declaration, Peter lifted his glass and toasted them both.
"But, if you did," Coetzer went on, unaware of that telepathic exchange.
"If we did," Johnny said, winking at Peter and Lance, "there'd be a new contract. And there would be a new organization for you to deal with."
"What?" The admiral didn't quite absorb that.
Johnny! Peter protested.
"Let's just bide our time," Johnny said smoothly. "It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings. And we sure want to hear her."
In his office, Dirk was fiddling with a pencil file, turning it over and over in one hand, glancing to his left.
Johnny sipped his coffee. Peter drank his juice. Then, resorting to physical means, he walked himself to the serving alcove and found apples and carrots. He clumped back to his station, aware of Lance watching him. He wished he were a little more graceful but that would come. He hadn't quite the muscular strength in his thighs to sit smoothly and flopped down.
Johnny doodled.
Lance tapped his fingers.
Dirk Coetzer kept running the file through his fingers.
The comm bleeped.
Everyone jumped.
"They got the message," Shandin's voice said. "Vartry's going out to the ship."
Johnny's doodles got wilder.
Lance went to the head.
The tension in the office was thick enough to cut.
Peter finished an apple and thought seriously about a carrot. He looked at the records for generator use. He hadn't had the pads on so he didn't know how many calories he had burned in that 'port. He wished now that he had since that data would be necessary, he fervently hoped, in the future.
Dirk was now swinging back and forth in his chair, looking anywhere but into the screen and at the three telekinetics. He rubbed his face.
Peter rubbed his face, prickly with short bristles of beard that he was finally growing.
More time elapsed.
We could 'port some of these, Peter suggested, wanting to do something. There were some downside 'ports he felt up to doing.
You're a glutton for punishment, Johnny said.
Are you okay, Johnny? Peter reached out to close his fingers about his friend's arm.
Well, I did take a deep breath, but if there was another piece of that pie?
I'll get it, Lance said, rising.
"You're eating, aren't you, Pete?" Dirk asked.
THEY GOT IT! Madlyn Luvaro's loud voice was never more welcome. DASH SAYS CAPTAIN VARTRY HAS IT! IT'S THERE! YOU DID IT! YOU DID IT!
Johnny shouted the message out loud.
Dirk Coetzer leaped from his chair, arms flung out, face split with the joy of success. The next moment the screen showed him dancing about his office with Nicola as a startled partner.
Peter stared at the sight, for a moment weak with relief before exultation flooded his mind, soul, and body. Johnny was yodeling like a drunken cowboy, clapping his hands over his head, folding them into the victory sign. Lance was doing some sort of stamping dance around the room.
A pounding on the door reached Peter first. Dirk Coetzer was still in his office so who was at the door, wanting in so urgently? It took Peter a little effort to sense Ceara was on the other side of the door. He hurried across the room, making his legs stride, grateful that he could make such a physical effort because his mind was still reeling from that thrust. Not something they could do on a regular basis. Yet!
"Oh, Peter," Ceara cried, throwing her arms about his neck. "I've the most wonderful news for you."
Peter hugged her tightly, chuckling.
"What's happened?" she exclaimed, suddenly aware of the antics in the room and on the screen. "I've never seen the admiral like that before."
Peter whirled her about in his own excess of joy, their movements automatically activating the door-closure mechanism. This was his moment, to share with his closest friends.
"What's happened? You're glowing with it, Peter. Oh, please tell me."
"Mars, Ceara!" Johnny said, crowing. "We 'ported to Mars!"
She clung to Peter's arms for support as she assimilated the information. Her face mirrored the feelings that engulfed Peter. He'd thought 'porting to First Base, to prove to Taddesse, Leitao, and Abubakar that he could, had been triumphant. This was an even greater achievement-a merge of minds.
"Oh, it is indeed your day," Ceara said, grinning like a fool at Johnny and Lance, and still in Peter's arms. She took a deep breath and Peter could sense she had something important to tell him. "Finn and the commander just okayed the reversal." She pointed to the side on which he carried the appliance. "You won't need that anymore."
He was stunned. Now it was Ceara who supported him.
Sometimes one could have too much joy, Peter thought, as she helped him back to his chair. Johnny thrust a slice of chocolate cake in his face. Lance held out orange juice in one hand and a shot glass of brandy in the other.
"Shock!" Ceara was saying. "He's in shock."