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!
"Right! I'm going to open the airlock," and he slammed his fist on the red-colored pad. The green light went off and the warning blink of "airlock activated" came up. The "open door" hooter began. The hatch moved slowly into the hull. "Reidinger, what's the first thing you do now?"
"Clip on my safety tether," Reidinger said.
"Do so!"
With a grand gesture, the chief waved him forward, keenly anticipating that the kid would draw back in horror as he caught sight of wide-open, black space. Of course the net was there and the area floodlighted so the full impact was reduced. But he'd seen so many freak out. Most needed a little push and he was lifting his arm to give one. Before he could make contact with the kid's back, he'd stepped off the edge like a willing sacrifice to this challenge of his courage.
Silversmith listened hard to hear panic breathing, a cry, anything. What he heard was one quick inhalation of breath, and a small, soft sigh. No freaking out, no scream of terror. Reidinger floated gently outward, without flailing his arms or legs, his initial step into space taking him slowly to the end of his tether. Then he made an expert turn and faced up, looking out beyond the lights of the Station Wheel to black space.
The chief gave a surprised grunt and, clipping his tether onto the bar over the hatch, he pushed off to the upwardly dangling Reidinger. The kid was unaware of his approach and, before Silversmith reached him, he began hauling himself down the net, turning his head in every direction as if he couldn't get enough.
From the moment the Chief gestured him out of the airlock, Peter was oblivious to anything else. He paused only a moment and let himself fall into space. Oh, he was peripherally aware that there was a space net but it didnot obscure his view of the black. And he could hack it! Gratefully! Yes, he thought to himself, remembering to breathe after what was an almost overwhelming spiritual awakening, yes, I am in space. I can hack the black! I love the black!
Then he let himself float outward, completely in control of his body. He had taken good heed of the maxim "action causes reaction in space." He had never felt such utter freedom, even the moment he had learned to move his body kinetically. That was a poor second to his elation now. He felt the little tug of his space tether and, making exactly the appropriate move, turned to face up, the lights of the Station Wheel glittering in his face plate, a benediction from Padrugoi herself. Smiling to himself, Peter began to explore the limits of the net, looking constantly around him, taking it all in! At last! This was where he belonged. In space!
"So young Reidinger can hack the black. Well done, Chief," said the admiral's voice on Silversmith's helmet comm, startling him into a violent action of dismay. "Well done, Chief."
Catching himself with a deft twitch of his safety line, the chief closed his eyes and mentally reviewed the last half hour. How long had the admiral been watching? Listening? Had he said anything to the kid that he'd be called on to explain? Who'd patched his comunit to the admiral's private channel?
"General Greene said he'd be a natural. He was right," the admiral added to the chief's utter chagrin.
"Aye, sir, he certainly is," Silversmith hastily agreed. "Like he'd been in space all his life."
"Well, certainly the past four years or so," the admiral remarked enigmatically. "Tomorrow you can belay that net and use a longer tether. Drill him on maneuvering. I want you to put him through every emergency routine we've got in the manual."
"Aye, sir. Of course, sir." With a sense of reprieve, Silversmith heard the faint click that meant the admiral was off-line. "All right, now, Reidinger. See if you can get your ass back to the airlock."
Increasing the chief's vexation, Reidinger gave just enough of a twitch to the safety tether to drift slowly back to the lock.
"Now," the chief said in a steely voice, "see if you can make a smooth passage to the downside of the net."
If the admiral wanted this kid to be competent in space, there was no time like the present to begin the drill. Silversmith kept him at it until he heard the click again.
"Are you still out there with him, Chief?" asked the admiral.
"Aye, sir. He's a natural, sir."
"That's enough for his first space walk, Chief."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Silversmith had to haul on Reidinger's tether to get him back to the airlock. When the chief removed the kid's helmet in the ready room, there was a rapt look on his face that worried Silversmith more than any other reaction could. Reidinger was space-mad. He was going to have to watch this one.
Silversmith was also present in the mess when he heard that the heavy offie bettor had to pay up, damned near roughing Kibon up. The winners in the CPO's mess were loud with celebrations of an easy win. Silversmith made a note of the man's name-Bert Ponce-so he could check the records on what the guy had done to get him sent up to the Station. The chief was a little surprised not to be able to access those records but he did find out that Ponce was stuck up here as a menial worker until his natural death. Whatever he'd done, it had to have been worse than awful. One thing sure, after losing every credit in his account (and Silversmith did discover that Ponce had a lot of credits), the guy wanted the kid's guts. The Chief hated a sore loser.
So, for two good reasons, Silversmith never took his eyes off the kid as he put him through every space acrobatic he knew of, ready to lasso the kid in if he started drifting to outer space. Grudgingly, the chief had to admit that the kid never disobeyed him, never lost control, never resorted to any of the antics some space-happy yeomen did. But he was always alert. You never knew with that type. The chief made sure Reidinger could cope with a damaged oxygen connection, with drifting, with tumbling, with suit pressure dropping (and a "technical" leak in his EMU). Since the admiral said the kid's main job would be matching construction units without causing any action that would, in turn, cause displacement, Silversmith made him "join" empty tanks over and over. Reidinger acted as if this was the greatest treat in occupied space. Silversmith got more and more nervous. Something would happen. He was sure of it. The training could not go on without some sort of glitch. Somehow that sonovabitch Ponce would take revenge on the kid for losing him so much credit. The situation wasn't normal.
After Silversmith had to agree that Reidinger could hack the black, he welcomed the addition of General Greene to the team working on the Arrakis's hull. Not that that put a stop to Reidinger's fascination with space. The general, Silversmith noticed, was keeping as close an eye on the kid as he was. As if the brass didn't think the chief was making a thorough job of training the kid.
Admiral Coetzer made matters worse by joining the three of them to watch Reidinger's first assignment-taking a heavy drive component from the net and manipulating it across the fifty yards of space to the hole in the hull left open for convenient insertion.
"Nice work, Reidinger," the admiral said with, to Silversmith's mind, just the right degree of approval. "I think we would certify him as space-safe now, wouldn't you, Chief?"
Silversmith hoped that Admiral Coetzer, or the general who was hovering even closer to the chief, did not accurately interpret his gargle of surprise.
"Aye, sir, I do believe you could, sir," he responded hastily and with appropriate sincerity.
"Good. Continue, Reidinger. We've got a deadline to meet and you're going to make all the difference. Carry on, Chief," Coetzer added to Silversmith. Then, with due care, the admiral activated his jetpack and returned to the Station.