The Rowan
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Серия: Tower and the Hive #1
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The Rowan». Краткое содержание книги:
The kinetically gifted, trained in mind/machine gestalt, are the most valued citizens of the Nine Star League. Using mental powers alone, these few Prime Talents transport ships, cargo and people between Earth's Moon, Mars' Demos and Jupiter's Callisto.
An orphaned young girl, simply called The Rowan, is discovered to have superior telepathic potential and is trained to become Prime Talent on Callisto. After years of self-sacrificing dedication to her position, The Rowan intercepts an urgent mental call from Jeff Raven, a young Prime Talent on distant Deneb. She convinces the other Primes to merge their powers with hers to help fight off an attack by invading aliens. Her growing relationship with Jeff gives her the courage to break her status-imposed isolation, and choose the more rewarding world of love and family.
Oh! And when she had absorbed the implications of that. What if I shield tight? And if he's not expecting the Rowan, why would he know my identity if he can't read it?
A point there but you still have to pass Security to get into the FT amp;T cube. A routine check will reveal your identity.
If a Prime can't manage a minor formality like that… The Rowan was dismissive.
If you want to get in quietly, to surprise Reidinger, it'll take managing. Let me check with Gren. There was a fairly lengthy pause before Afra came back to her. Well, he's agreed on my especial request to escort my anonymous young friend as far as he's able but Security has to be placated. He'll meet you at the landing entrance.
The journey was so effortless that the Rowan wondered that self-portation had once seemed so arduous and terrifying. She wondered if there was anything to be done to release Capella or David from that imposed travel fear.
She indulged in a projected scene, where she just waltzed into Altair Tower and told Siglen that she had just come in from Callisto Station. The old dear would probably faint.
She settled her carrier at 14.30 Earth time in one of the single cradles just outside the reception building. She had always known what the main FT amp;T facility looked like, having shifted carriers, pods, and vessels of all sizes in and out of the great landing field. But standing in the center of it, dwarfed by the immense cube to her right, that was the Headquarters building on a field of twenty-square kilometers, gave her the proper perspective.
Cradles, scarred by long use and rough handling, surrounded her, from the singles and doubles nearest the building to those looming on the edges of the field that could receive the largest freighters, passenger and naval craft. To the east she caught the glint of water.
Surrounding the field on its land sides were rank upon rank of buildings, starting with low industrial complexes. Behind them, in seried ranks of varying height and bulk, the business and residential towers of the largest single metropolis of the Central Worlds receded into the distance.
The Rowan knew from childhood lessons that The City was unbroken along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean and each decade penetrated farther inland. By the turn of the next century, The City would inexorably engulf the entire continent as the western habitations expanded eastward to meet it. What a contrast to Deneb!
Beneath her feet she could feel the rumble of immense generators, and the wind carried the high pitched whine of hard working turbines.
A light sea breeze ruffled her hair, bringing with it the taint of brine. That was almost a welcome change from the metallic stink of air that caught at the back of her throat. Even Callisto's recycled atmosphere was better than this. She began to cough as the acrid air irritated her throat.
"Hey, where did you sneak in from?" asked a man in the bright orange of a cargo handler, appearing from behind a rack of single carriers.
"I didn't sneak in," the Rowan replied. "I've come from Callisto with orders to report to Reidinger." "Prime Reidinger to the likes of you," he replied with a sneer. He peered at the number of her shell and consulted a wrist-unit. "Hey, your carrier 5 not listed." "T-4 Gollee Gren has been delegated to escort me," she replied. So much for Afra's contention that Callisto Prime was well known.
"Talent Gren? Well, now, we'll just…" Suddenly his expression altered to nervous surprise and he straightened, giving her a strange glance. His right hand went to his ear and it was then that the Rowan noticed he was wearing a com device. "Yes, sir, Talent Gren. A carrier of that ID has arrived. Yes, I'll direct her." With a much altered manner, he pointed toward the FT amp;T building. "You go there. Talent Gren's waiting for you. And you don't keep Talents waiting. Not around here you don't." He jerked his head toward the airy shell of concrete and plasglas that extruded from this facade of the vast opaque cube of the Federal Telepathic and Teleportation Agency.
From the sides of the great cube she could see transport cables stringing out to the edges of the great portfield and the dewdrop vehicles speeding along them.
Housed within Earth Prime Station were the administrative and training facilities of Federal Telepath and Teleport, and somewhere inside was Reidinger. The size of the place was daunting. Her whimsical notion to surprise Reidinger would tax her ingenuity. She ought not to have dismissed Afra's mental reservations so airily.
How had Jeff got in to see Rowan? She pressed her lips together: that man could charm his way anywhere in the galaxy. But if he could, so could she.
The Rowan straightened her spine, rejecting the grandeur and sheer size of Earth Prime Station. Would Reidinger be as grand face-to-face?
How truly realistic had that hologram cube been? She squashed notions of inadequacy, and impudence, and walked as briskly as she could, considering the difference in gravity between Callisto and Terra, toward the shell entrance.
As she neared the entrance, she saw a lone figure waiting by the door, highly visible in the deep crimson suit he wore. Suddenly she wished she had taken time to plan this expedition, for she was in rather drab work clothing.
So much for impulsive decisions. Perhaps. But she was here on Earth and that was a positive action and long overdue.
The central door panel of the plasglas facade whooshed open and the man stepped forward smiling, hand extended. She battened down her shields.
"Good afternoon, Angharad Gwyn." The Rowan took a second to recognize her birth name. That was clever of Afra. Had she actually told him or had he accessed that discovery from her mind? Sometimes she wondered if Afra had not improved beyond a T-4. "I'm Gollee Gren. Afra of Callisto requested that I escort you to the Prime's offices." Smiling, she shook the offered hand and deflected the tentative peek which the physical contact allowed. She permitted him to glimpse an inexperienced mind awed by its present surroundings. In return she extracted a good deal more from the T-4's mind.
"I appreciate your escort, Gollee Gren," she said in a breathless manner. "I had not realized how massive the installation is." He hesitated, holding her hand longer than the courtesy required, and he frowned slightly. "Have we met before?" "I doubt it. This is my first trip to Earth." "I see. Well, let's get inside, shall we? That air's bad for the lungs," Gren said with an ingratiating smile as he gestured for them to proceed. "I've always been in Afra's debt," he went on, "but I'm not at all sure that I can assist you very much, no matter what Afra may have hinted. Especially today with all that's happened." He led her to a bank of shafts, set in the rear wall, on one side of the main exits. "Once we've got your Security Clearance," and from his mind she neatly picked all she needed to know about that procedure, "I can, of course, escort you to the Prime's office." "I'm properly cleared," she said and showed him the Top Security Clearance badge which she had just procured for herself. "Afra took care of everything." She stepped into the first vacant lift.
"Oh?" Gollee was amazed. "I didn't realize well, never mind. But even with that, it's still not going to be easy to see Prime Reidinger today. You'll have to be content with an appointment for another day." Then he placed his hand on the palm plate marked "Restricted" and the door closed and the lift rose.
"I heard," and she stressed the verb, "that the new Deneb Prime didn't have to wait." To her surprise, Gollee Gren gave a hearty chuckle.
"How that lad knew where Reidinger's real office was located has given the Security Talents bad nightmares." So, because that location was very much in Gren's mind, Prime Rowan had no difficulty extracting it. Jeff Raven, with that charismatic charm of his, had probably used the same trick.
They stepped out of the lift into a handsomely furnished lobby, with wall hangings of exquisite design and vivid colors. Elegant hardwoods in an intricate pattern covered the floor although corridors branching from the big room were carpeted. There were finely wrought seats, couches, and some odd resting pods to accommodate nonhuman forms. Two women, elegantly dressed in wildly striped, tight-fitting body-suits with their hair in intricate braids, seemed intent on the monitors of their consoles. Both had instantly identified and made mental notes of the new arrivals, slightly uncomplimentary about the Rowan. A man appeared at the side of the main desk complex, smiling at Gren and attempting to read her. A T-3 had no chance of doing that.