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...
Kathmandu seemed a likely place to look for culture uncontaminated by the crackpot pseudo-mystical theones of the natives of the north. Bogota, being the largest and most accessible population center, was the most likely to have been influenced.
For hours after they left the warm harbor of Harrison's Fjord, flanked by the ice-packed coast of the rest of the northern continent, they skimmed the cold gray of the ocean, which didn't particularly depress Matthew, as cold gray was one of his favorite colors. Huge chunks of ice floated in these waters, as large as islands or small continents themselves. Initial reports had suggested that the southern edge of the northern continent had many glaciers which constantly calved into the unobstructed oceans that girdled the planet.
The sun struck sapphires from the clefts in the ice, and the gray of the clear salt waters was sequined with darting fish. Schools of dolphins followed the copter's shadow across the breast of the sea. Matthew was oblivious to them, as he was to the blowing and sounding of the Petaybean tube whales: so called because their ancestors had been bits of cells frozen and later incubated in test tubes. Brought to maturity in controlled environments, the large, strong mammals had then been released into the planet's newly formed ocean. The whales, like the dolphins, seemed attracted by the novelty of the copter.
At last, toward evening, they were within sight of the southern coast, a sight so spectacular that even Matthew was forced to admire its grandeur.
Though the harbor, like its counterpart at Harrison's Fjord, contained water warmed by the geothermal springs and rivers the planet seemed to have in abundance, the rest of the coastline was glacial. Huge cliffs of ice glittered white and crystaclass="underline" deepest indigo in the recesses. and a rich bright cobalt where the setting sun struck the crevasses. Glaciers calved, huge chunks splintering off, plummeting into the sea with a roaring crack, surfacing through a rush of displaced waters, displaying new surfaces. On other floating chunks, seals and otters and big tusked walruses basked and swam in the frigid sea.
As the copter drew nearer the southern continent, the sun began setting, burning across the water to recast the scene in shades of mauve and tangerine.
Nearer yet, they saw herds of caribou race across the coastal plains, huge white bears lumbering across the ice or swimming in the lakes that studded the plains like chips of coral.
From those spectacular vistas, the sight of Bogota was a massive let down.
It contained a double row of barracks-type buildings, no more than a kilometer in length, a landing pad with a pile of fuel cans perilously near, and a number of small hide boats not dissimilar to the ones Matthew had seen at Harrison's Fjord. As they over flew the town, they were close enough to observe those inhabitants who were lounging about. The native costume seemed to consist of cast-off uniform pieces from the company corps. The copter's arrival caused no particular excitement: few heads even turned up to observe its passage.
With great delicacy, the pilot set the copter down right beside the fuel cans, shut off the engines, and without a word, climbed out and began to refuel. Oddly enough, no one came to check, though Matthew could see people less than a hundred meters away watching the process. While Greene fueled up, Matthew disembarked, demanding a few answers now that the man could not pretend he didn't hear him.
"Shouldn't someone be logging you in or something, Greene?"
"Why? They knew the copter, and they know it's the one I fly. If I had something to deliver here, I'd have flashed my lights and someone would have come to make a pickup."
Matthew digested that explanation-yet another example of the nonchalance and indifference that were so rife on this planet and that would be rectified.
"Is this all there is to this town?" He gestured about the landing area and toward the two rows of dwellings.
"Bogota? Yes, sir. Nobody much lives in Bogota."
"Why not?"
"It's unstable, sir. You saw the glaciers. They make sure that the earth always moves for you, that's one thing. You get rocked to sleep every night, though some rockings 're harder than others. Then there's the bears. They mostly live on fish, but they'll take anything that's handy, including human beings if they're hankerin' for a change of menu."
Braddock, looking nauseated again now that the effect of the pill had worn off, had exited the copter. With an effort, he tried to assume some of his usual assistance duties, his expression carefully neutral. "Do you suggest that we use this place as a base headquarters?"
The pilot scratched his head, pushing his cap forward over his forehead. "Well, this place is as good as any on this continent. It ranks as a depot, not that it has all the amenities SpaceBase offered. Mostly it's a drop point to collect recruits and to return soldiers from these parts who are demobbing. I haven't done a lot of flying around here except to Bogota, to tell you the truth, and Sierra Padre. The warm rivers make the ground swampy in the summer and create powerful turbulence the rest of the year, and you don't go far before you get into the mountains. Sierra Padre is a little bigger, a little more comfortable, and the place a lot of southern folks call home. Of course, you understand, lots of people aren't settled real permanent but move from hunting camps to fish camps and back again, according to the season."
"Thank you, Captain Greene," Matthew said. ''In that case, we have no time to lose in reaching Sierra Padre before we run out of daylight. Let us climb back aboard and continue on."
Braddock did not quite stifle a groan, and Matthew gave him a reproving glare. Really, he had thought his chief assistant was made of sterner stuff.
"Well, sir, I got to tell you," Johnny Greene said. "This is going to get me in trouble back at headquarters. I've got another mission to fly soon's I get back."
"May I remind you that I am your mission right now Captain, and my business has the highest possible priority."
"Yes, sir, so let's get going right now and I'll tuck you in at Sierra Padre before I take off again."
"I was expecting you to stay and act as our transport during this vital research mission, sir."
"My orders were just to fly you here, sir, and return north for my next mission. Tell you what, though. It shouldn't take very long. Why don't you gents settle in at Sierra Padre, get the lay of the land in the snocle, talk to a few folks, and I'll be back in a few days to collect you?"
"I'd prefer you to be more specific than that, Captain."
"Yeah, me too, sir. But everything's pretty unsettled right now. You've got a portable comm unit with you, haven't you?"
"Braddock does. Naturally."
"Then if you don't see me by the time you're ready to go on to one of the other villages, you just ring up to the station and they'll give me a holler or dispatch someone else."
"In case of emergency, I will go to that extreme inconvenience, Captain Greene. However, it is your responsibility and your sole responsibility to see that I have transport to my next destination within three days. If I am at all discommoded by your absence, you will find yourself busted back to flying paper aircraft. Do I make myself clear?"
"Oh, yes, sir, I know how foolish it would be to get crossways of an important man like yourself, sir," Greene said with not quite enough humility to suit Matthew.
Braddock suddenly came to life. "Wait a moment. Greene? What is your first name?"
"Why. it's Johnny, dear heart. What's yours?" Greene replied, batting his eyelashes in a way that was mocking and impertinent in the extreme.
"Sir, Braddock said, turning to Matthew. "Wasn't there a Captain John Greene piloting the copter carrying Dr. Fiske when he crashed in the volcanic blast area?"