Power Lines
- Автор: Маккефри Энн, Скарборо Элизабет
- Серия: Petaybee #2
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Power Lines». Краткое содержание книги:
Only solid evidence would convince the company to leave the planet alone, and for all its sentience, Petaybee's communications were highly subjective; indeed, some outsiders seemed entirely immune to its voice. So Yana and her friends would have to find some other way to prove that the planet was worth more to the company alive than dead...
"Thank you, Mr. Makem." She smiled. It never hurt, and for all she knew it might gain her a discreet ally on Matthew's staff.
"Stop trying to charm my staff," Matthew said testily, giving Makem a piercing glare. Makem's apple did an unhappy series of perpendicular maneuvers.
"I've given up on that score long ago, Matthew," she lied shamelessly. "You really do know how to incur loyalty among your staff. I could use a little of that genius." Then, because she was near to laughter at the expression on all those startled earnest faces, she abruptly focused her eyes on the passing landscape. "Ah, the river that suddenly de-iced itself. My, it is turbulent," she said. "And overrunning its banks, too. Flood control apparently is another local lack. But, oh, glance over toward the clear fields, Matthew. Someone's out there doing something to the ground. Plowing? Is that what you call it? And what on earth would you call the beasts they have harnessed to that queer device?" She had everyone on her side of the shuttle to see this archaic activity. "Well, isn't that nice, Matthew. They heard you."
Matthew favored her with a sour glare. She could almost see the phrase "they'll hear me loud and clear" coming out in a bubble from his tightly shut lips. Certainly that was the expression evident in his glare.
A little noise, like a suppressed cough, issued from the seats behind her. Faber, more than likely, she thought. He'd never said as much, of course, but she knew he despised Matthew Luzon. Almost as much as she did, and Sally and Millard for that matter. She'd chosen this team very well indeed.
Then the shuttle was within sight of SpaceBase and its ridiculously colored auxiliary buildings. Who had the tastelessness to use such awful colors? Marmion wondered. Probably every color of paint rejected throughout Intergal had ended up here, on the walls of this eye sore.
She did not, however, as Matthew did at length, comment on the condition of the landing field, with its craters and cracks and the blocks of plascrete that had been elevated by the seismic activity. As they seemed localized on the field, Marmion was quite charmed by the notion of a sentient planet that could so specialize its internal effects to cause the most discomfort to the inhabitants it did not wish to remain on its surface. A most considerate friend and formidable enemy, such an entity would be, if it was possible.
And who was to say it was not? Marmion shrugged. She had a fondness for mysteries in this over analyzed universe in which she lived. Enigmas attracted her curiosity, and solving them gave her a chance to stretch her mind and resources. How wonderful if this truly proved to be the enormous and complex puzzle the report promised! Whether it was quite what the locals claimed or not, however, there had to be more here than the prosaic scene below, or the official explanations of the uncanny events detailed in the reports, no matter how disparaging the "logical" explanation. Or accurately detailed. She was quite delighted she had come, and should this planet prove to be a sentient entity, she would be even more delighted to make its acquaintance. She hoped, rather whimsically, that the planet would respond as well to her and not judge her too harshly by the company she kept.
There was, of course, much fan fare as the shuttle landed on one of the few level portions of the field. A proper welcoming committee was there, and if no red carpet had been spread, the plascrete had obviously been scrubbed clean of the mud and goo that was smeared over most of the rest of the landing area. The ground vehicles gleamed with a high wax finish in the clear sunlight.
Her lungs took in the spring-crisp air in great gulps. She was almost dizzy with the intoxication of undeniably fresh air.
"Oh, my word, air! Give me air like this wherever I go," she said dramatically, one hand on her heaving chest.
Matthew shot her a disgusted glance. "Marmion, the air may appear to be fresh, but you cannot be sure it isn't filled with bacteria and microbes that will have a deleterious effect on your health. Which we must preserve!" he added with that dreadful smile he affected when he was pretending to be solicitous while really hoping the person he was talking to would fall over dead.
By quickly linking her arm in Faber's, she neatly avoided contact as Matthew held out a hand to help her down the scrupulously clean stairs. Faber escorted her deftly to the ground, but Sally and Millard had to wait until Matthew and his minions had disembarked. Maybe Sally would be able to make some sort of impression on one of the handsome, physically fit young assistants. She usually managed. She'd have to be very clever with Matthew's boys, but that's what Sally was: clever, astute, discreet, and exceedingly intelligent.
Once more into the fray, dear friends, Marmion thought as she observed Captain Torkel Fiske in full flash uniform, standing just slightly ahead of his father-rather naughty of Torkel, she thought. Whittaker was dressed far more casually, but she'd never seen him look so fit and happy. Happy, she thought, wondering that that adjective should spring to mind. Who had time to be "happy" in the Intergalactic society of which she, Whittaker, and Matthew were part? In any event, she smiled at Whittaker, as he neatly elbowed his son out of the way to be first to greet her.
"Is your arm all healed? And the leg wound?'' she asked solicitously as they embraced. He wore a support bandage on his arm and she'd noticed just the faintest hint of a limp as he moved.
"Of course, Marmie. You can't keep an old dog like me down. I not only had Intergal's best medicos working on me, but the best immediate and convalescent medical care available here. I'll say that for this planet-good for your health," Whittaker said. Releasing her-a trifle reluctantly, she felt-he turned to shake hands, showing just the right deference and enthusiasm, with Matthew. "You are welcome, Matthew. Your input will be invaluable."
Liar, Marmion thought, but she smiled vacuously as the two men went through the courtesies.
Matthew introduced his gaggle of ganders to Whittaker, adding the provenance of each and their area of expertise. That is, he introduced all but poor Adam's Apple.
"And this is Braddock Makem," she said, smiling brightly first at Matthew, then at Whit, and finally at poor startled Makem. "You remember Sally, I'm sure, Whit. And Millard and Faber, who are my staunch henchmen."
Whit shook hands with her assistants and then waved everyone to the waiting vehicles. The travel bags had already been unloaded and were on their way to whatever accommodations this depressing place might have for people of her and Matthew's prestige.
"We've laid on a fine meal for you, Marmie," Whit said, making sure he sat beside her in the large personnel transport. Its seats, hard as they were, had been re-covered with rather fine furs.
"How kind of you," Marmion replied, and then, feeling the soft texture of the covers, she said, "And are these locally produced?" She did not have to pretend her enthusiasm, for she had seldom felt such beautifully cured natural pelts.
"Yes," Torkel Fiske answered from the double seat behind her. "It's the one thing they do very well here."
"Really?" she asked, managing to keep the irony out of her rejoinder. "How interesting! You must show me more," she said languidly. "I really could use some new stoles. Maybe a muff or two for when I have to stand in freezing airlocks and transfer stations."
"Better let young Fiske buy for you, Marmion," Matthew said. "The moment they heard your off world accent, they'd quadruple the price."
"No, we do that!" Whittaker said at his drollest.
Marmion snuggled against him, wrapping her fingers about his arm and squeezing them slightly. "It's so good to see you, Whit! Whatever's been going on down here, it's really brightened you up. I do believe you were getting office-bound."
Whittaker chuckled and jerked his head at the very upright, disapproving back of Matthew Luzon sitting in front of them.