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!
He'd do it now. He'd ask now. After all, the worst that could happen was to be told "no."
When Peter Reidinger suddenly appeared in the admiral's outer office, Yeoman Nicola Nizukami was surprised. He'd never before just appeared out of thin air, though she knew he could do such things. She didn't need to be psychic to see that the kinetic was nervous. He was very pale and his Adam's apple kept jumping up and down in his throat. She wondered if he could sweat like other males.
"Are you all right, Mr. Reidinger?" she asked, wondering what to do if he fainted or something. She knew some of his history as did everyone on the Station but, in this encounter, she seemed not to have all the information she should. She knew the admiral didn't expect him.
"If the admiral's available. I mean, I don't want to interrupt or anything," he managed to say.
She gave him an encouraging smile. He was much too skinny, she thought. Why doesn't someone put some weight on his bones!
He blinked and she caught her breath, hoping he hadn't read what she'd been thinking. She'd been briefed as everyone had on the Station, that he would be too well mannered to do that. The psychics considered uninvited mental intrusion against professional scruples.
"I'll just see if he's free," she said hastily, lifting her wristcom to her lips. "Admiral Coetzer, Mr. Reidinger would like a moment of your time."
"Send him in," was the immediate response.
She turned to operate the door control and she thought again that the kid would faint he had turned so white.
"He won't bite you, Mr. Reidinger," she whispered, and stood aside, giving him an encouraging wave.
Slowly he glided forward, like an ensign knowing he was in for a tongue-lashing, she thought. Not that Admiral Coetzer was a martinet. And Mr. Reidinger was definitely in the admiral's good book. The door slid shut. Yeoman Nizukami resumed processing the many end-of-month reports to the Space Authority Headquarters downside.
She was interrupted by an incredible wave of exultation and looked around her, trying to figure out the source and reason. She was alone. The door to the admiral's office slid open and Peter Reidinger soared out. She blinked because he was a good foot off the floor.
"Ahem, Pete," said the admiral, who had followed him to the threshold. "You're levitating. Nicola won't mind but you might turn a few heads in the corridor." There was a big smile on Coetzer's broad pleasant face and an expression of paternal affection for his visitor.
"Oh! Thanks, sir," and Mr. Reidinger descended. He beamed at Nicola, shaking his head ever so slightly as the outer door opened and he glided out into the corridor, feet on the ground and knees lifting in his usual approximation of an ordinary gait.
Nicola was used to all kinds of people coming and going from the admiral's office and just about every sort of response to interviews but to see someone sailing past her was most unusual.
"Sir?" she said, in the hopes of an explanation.
Dirk Coetzer laughed, rubbing his hands together with immense satisfaction. "Just made that young man very happy by giving him permission to do exactly what I want him to do."
"Sir?" Nicola was no wiser.
"Get me CPO Ryk Silversmith on the comm," and the admiral turned back into his office, chuckling and continuing to scrub his hands.
Whose exultation, then, had she thought she felt? She had a useful amount of empathy that made her a good secretary. As she obediently got Chief Petty Officer Silversmith on the comm, she realized that he was in charge of training personnel in EVA.
So Pete couldn't wait any longer, huh?" Johnny said when Coetzer contacted him about the interview.
"He was the shade of a sheet," Dirk said, delighted to be able to discuss this remarkable development with the man who'd most appreciate it. He chuckled. "He'd've been shaking like a leaf, if he could. Took all my self-control not to whoop out loud."
"So he got up the gumption to ask." Johnny grinned smugly. "I wonder what prompted him. Not that I'm not delighted. I've seen him staring at every team of grunts, broadcasting envy. But I like him making his own move. Oh, well, EVAs not my favorite pastime but I'll get my suit checked out."
"You're not involved," Dirk Coetzer said.
"I'm not?" The general sounded indignant. "I promised Rhyssa I wouldn't-"
"Silversmith'll train him. Same way he trained you, I understand."
"Silversmith?" There was a brief pause on the other end of the comlink. That was the second time in a day the admiral had trouble suppressing laughter. "None better."
"Thought you'd see it like that. You and I, however, can discreetly follow his progress. You can accompany him on his first official EVA, I'll grant you that much."
"You mean you won't go along, too, Dirk?" Johnny's tone was sly.
"I get a few perks, you know." He allowed himself to chuckle then. "That is, of course, if he can hack the black."
"Care to make a bet?"
"No, I don't think I do," the admiral said in a slow drawl. "But you'll get pretty good odds if you check with Kibon, the Station bookie."
"They're making book on it?"
Dirk Coetzer gave a deprecating snort. "Scuttlebutt about Reidinger has been… quite informative."
"I'll check out the odds first."
"Don't tell me you're skeptical?"
"Dirk, I want to be sure whose money I'd be taking on a sure thing. I don't want one of those offies you have up there looking to waste me."
CPO Ryk Silversmith was a compact man, one of the few who took advantage of the naval tradition of wearing a beard, grizzled and neatly trimmed against his jawline. Scuttlebutt suggested he waxed it at night. He had not previously encountered his latest student but he was well aware of the bets laid for and against Reidinger's ability to hack the black. He'd heard that one of the offies, a janitor, had placed an enormous sum against the lad. His reputation as a trainer did not permit him to bet on a student. So far there'd been no casualties among his graduates. He did wonder when he saw the skinny kid sitting as bolt upright as a cadet, if maybe this one would ruin his record. He'd also been adroitly informed that this Reidinger was special so he'd better pass.
A half hour into the first session of classroom basics, and Silversmith was of two minds whether or not to like the kid. Reidinger knew his physics better than any newly commissioned ensign. The naval manual on EMU maintenance and repair was up on his notepad. Though he listened intently to Silversmith's spiel on space suits, it was as if the kid was checking a mental list to be sure the chief didn't miss a point. Kid didn't act know-it-all either; wasn't the least bit smart-ass, respectful but not an ass-licker. Whatever. Silversmith proceeded inexorably with the standard introductory session. When, as was his habit, he required Reidinger to repeat from time to time what he had just said, the answer was spot-on. At the end of the hour, he hauled out the demonstration model.