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!
That'll certainly help, Havers remarked, his lanky body relaxing. What now, Johnny?
Just be ready to take control when we can, Johnny replied. She's been too busy with her planning to watch her back. And there was a note of distinct satisfaction in his tone.
Those mysterious teams of yours? Rhyssa asked.
What teams? Both Madlyn and Gordon Havers wanted to know.
"How could she lock the admiral out of the command zone?" Dave murmured, not being privy to the lightning telepathed exchanges. "She formally handed over the passwords and encryption codes when the watch changed at dawn. Coetzer's staff has been installed since six a.m. Station time. Why don't…" he continued, breaking off when there was a sudden rearrangement of the crowd as someone barged forward: Barchenka. She had a voice wand in her hand.
"HEAR THIS!" The volume on her wand was deafening, instantly producing the silence she wanted from the now agitated audience. "I AM RESUMING THE MANAGEMENT OF THIS STATION. THERE IS AN INSURRECTION ON THE LOWER LEVELS."
That's a fat lie! Madlyn said.
"BE CALM! I WILL SAVE YOU. THE ADMIRAL YOU APPOINTED IS USELESS IN THIS EMERGENCY HE DOESN'T KNOW THE STATION AS I DO."
"Because, Madam," and the admiral appeared on cue in one open door, his aides spreading out on either side of him, hands on the holsters of their dart guns. He had an on-deck voice that could be heard without amplification. "You have tampered with the main control systems. I am the officially appointed Station Manager."
"I SHOULD BE. I WILL BE." Barchenka's wild gestures had opened a path between her and the admiral. He advanced to confront her. "NO ONE KNOWS THIS STATION AS DO, WHO HAS PUT EVERY RIVET AND GIRDER IN IT. YOU SHALL NEVER RUN IT WITHOUT ME. I WAS GOING TO EXPLAIN HOW MUCH YOU NEEDED ME BUT SOMEONE CORRUPTED MY SPEECH DISK." Her eyes were bulging, her face suffused with blood, the cords in her neck visible with her tension.
The admiral came to an abrupt halt, shaking his head in outrage at her ranting as Rhyssa, desperate to offer such help as her people had available, reached into his opened mind. She was startled to hear Peter's voice already there. Mention password, Admiral. Ask her about the password.
The admiral gave his head one more shake, eyes sliding quickly to Johnny Greene, whom he knew to be a Talent. He took another step forward, just as a thin arm in blue reached out of those near Barchenka and touched her shoulder.
"You've changed the password, have you, Barchenka?" The admiral said and, with an effort the Talents caught, gave her an amused smile. "That's why the systems won't respond. You've over ridden the codes you only just gave me."
"I HAVE CHANGED ALL. SPECIAL PROGRAM ONLY I CAN OPERATE," she cried dramatically, thumping her chest with her free hand. "NO ONE ELSE WILL EVER RUN PADRUGOI SPACE STATION BUT ME!"
Shelkoonchik? What does that mean? Peter asked. Sounds Russian with that 'chik' at the end of it. Madlyn, are there any Russian speakers on the Station?
Hundreds down in the grunt and offie levels.
No, no, someone in a command position.
Johnny Greene's amused voice answered. Yes, the Maintenance Supervisor, Koryakin. He's still trying to get the lift to work.
Koryakin! All three 'pathed the name at once. Their effort was met with silence.
He only receives, guys, Madlyn added in a droll tone.
Koryakin, the password has been changed to shelkoonchik, Peter said, his mental tone so intense that even Madlyn winced.
Did he hear that? Rhyssa asked.
Every receiving telepath on the Station heard that, Johnny Greene said, imaging himself tenderly touching his ear hole.
The admiral had come within inches of Barchenka now, almost a stroll of an approach. Certainly he did not act either cowed or subservient as he stopped just short of the semicircle of her white-coated guards.
"As the duly appointed Manager of Padrugoi, I must inform you that your deliberate attempt to undermine my authority can be considered an act of mutiny."
"MUTINY?" She threw back her head and howled with laughter. "When you can control nothing of this Station and all these-" She swung her arm to indicate the prestigious and important government officials in the stunned assembly. "Are hostages. Guests," she amended, "my guests until MY appointment is irrevocably confirmed."
That provoked angry denials and restlessness from an audience that included every world leader who had wished to attend the Inauguration of the Space Station, which their own security guards had cleared as "absolutely safe." From several directions, angry men and women charged her position. And aborted their charge when her white-coats produced illegal heat-guns and let off bursts of energy, searing the attackers. Their cries of dismay ended abruptly as Barchenka's forces swung their weapons from one side of the crowd to the other. The wounded were eased back, out of sight.
Is anyone badly hurt? Rhyssa asked on a broad band that would reach anyone in the crowd with minimal Talent.
No, ma'am. The ones I can see just got a warning crease. But that means those white-coats know how to shoot. Rhyssa couldn't recognize the speaker's mental tone: whoever he was, he was "shouting" to be heard at all. Anger had probably given him more range than normal.
"You want to get back to Earth?" Barchenka was saying now, her smile malicious. "Obey me. Any further display of insurrection," and her broad smile dared a response as her eyes swept the subdued crowd, "and my troops will see how fire-resistant your fancy outfits really are. I'll space ANYone who defies me. I, Ludmilla Barchenka, who MADE this Station, I am in complete control."
In the stunned silence that now held the assembled, the little bleep was all the more audible.
"Are you?" asked the admiral gently, his manner relaxed.
"What was that?" Ludmilla launched herself angrily at him and gestured for two of her guards to cover him. The admiral didn't resist when she wrenched off his wristcom and, dropping it to the floor, stamped on it, kicking it away from her when she couldn't break the impact-resistant case.
"You will be first to breathe space, Coetzer," she said, shaking her fist at him. Then she spoke into her own wrist unit. "Yellow Team, to the reception area. You'll see, Coetzer. You'll be admiral," and she snarled the rank in a contemptuous voice, "of deep space. And that," she waved her arm to include the audience, "will be the fate of all who defy me." Then she stopped, peering into the crowd, searching avidly.
Who's she looking for? Madlyn said, trying to shelter herself behind Dave's large frame.
Me, said Johnny Greene blithely, but she won't find me. Watch out, Havers. She knows you by sight, too. Are you far enough back in the crowd, Rhyssa? She'll also come after you.
"Yellow Team, what's keeping you?" she demanded angrily into her wrist unit.
That's more than enough of this sort of entertainment, Johnny said cryptically. Ready, set, GO!
NOW! The clear mental command was not in General Greene's voice. Suddenly the grilles on apertures halfway up the inner walls crashed down to the floor and those white-coats nearest reacted, blasting at the metal plates. To be shot down by the many standard tranquilizer rifles that appeared in the openings.
"What the-" Ludmilla began.
As she raised her hand to redirect her troops' weapons, a dart smacked into her throat. Even as she collapsed, tranquilizer darts rained down on her cohorts. A few, who had dropped to their knees and turned their weapons upward, were not hit. Abruptly every one of those threw their weapons away as if too hot to handle. On the hands held up in surrender, Rhyssa saw the unmistakable red burn welts.