Pegasus In Space

"Admiral Coetzer?" Colonel Watari's deep voice roused Peter from his unhappy deliberation. "Sergeant Gendro has found a package at the bollard. The waybill reads number 51161708 from Chipsink, shipping date's today and time of shipment is marked as 0845. Show 'em the tag, Sergeant."

The First Base window altered to display the details.

"I think that proves delivery," Lance said, looking slightly smug.

"Bring the package in on the double, Sergeant," the colonel said in sharp command.

"We can sure use those chips right away," Major Cyberal said, very pleased.

"Chips are the least of our worries," Watari muttered.

The Secretary turned to Peter, approval and relief apparent in his expression. "The question now is, how much mass can you send at a time, Mr. Reidinger?"

"I don't know, Mr. Secretary," Peter said honestly, and heard the derisive noise that came from the direction of Alicia Taddesse. "I'd be willing to try to increase mass."

"Increasing slowly over a period," Johnny put in, "with me assisting."

"Frankly, we have never been able to ascertain what Pete's limit is, Mr. Secretary," Lance added, sitting forward.

"You said it was all mathematical," Taddesse said, almost snarling at Johnny.

"So it is," Johnny replied, unruffled. "And, with Pete's permission, we'll keep pushing. By the same token, it's inadvisable to overload or overuse his telekinetic ability."

You said you'd be helping me.

So I will, but we both know that I have a limit. It's you we're selling to save the projects.

"Until, or if, we discover a finite limit," Johnny continued, "we should be able to come to a useful working schedule. We already have some guidelines," and Peter knew that Johnny was attempting to convince him more than anyone else in the room, "in terms of generator power used and calories burned."

"The general and I have finite limits to the mass we can teleport and how far," Lance put in. "I, too, advise that we proceed slowly. John gets as much as one thousand tons from surface to Station at a go. What're you up to, Johnny? Eight loads a day?"

"One an hour," Johnny said. "Of course, we can do two or more small to medium lots within the half hour but I watch my calorie burn carefully and don't exceed what I know my daily limit is."

"I can 'port small masses-100-pound limit-but not as far as the general can," Lance went on. "Anything under ten kilos, or 100 k telekinetic pressure, say, as I had to during Bangladesh flood conditions. I can handle that sort of work for upward of several hours. But then I have to rest for a similar period."

"And Mr. Reidinger?" asked the Secretary, clearly impressed by the details from the two older men.

Grinning, Lance spread his hands wide, a gesture that Johnny Greene repeated.

"We found out something new today, ladies and gentlemen," Johnny said. "Let's proceed cautiously with this valuable natural resource."

"Using what as the primary guideline, the use of the generators or the caloric expenditure?" asked the Secretary.

"Calories mean energy expended. That's the most important criterion."

"What are your favorite foods, Mr. Reidinger?" the Secretary asked with a mischievous smile.

As Peter blinked in surprise at such an unexpected question, Johnny roared with laughter, Lance guffawed, and the admiral grinned broadly, leaning back in his chair in relief. Fraga's smile was polite but Alicia Taddesse did not seem to appreciate the levity at all.

"Once we establish a safe caloric expenditure for you, Mr. Reidinger," Georg Fraga said, taking out his notepad, "can we present you with a delivery schedule for material most urgently needed at First Base?"

I think you should handle this, Pete, Johnny said, stretching his legs out under the table.

Peter hid his annoyance at Johnny Greene's manipulation of this meeting, even if it was to his advantage and that of parapsychics in general. He did feel great satisfaction at proving his ability to doubters like Alicia Taddesse. The Secretary appeared to be openminded. What position did Georg Fraga hold in the Space Authority? Senior what?

Pete turned his mind from that to how to set fair parameters. Johnny had made him test his own abilities. And, to be truthful, it had been relatively easy. Especially knowing that he had already managed to reach First Base from Adelaide. How much mass could he shift if he really tried? Obviously, he should set parameters now. What sort? Johnny was always trying to get him to reach out a little farther. How far would please him? Peter wondered. For that matter, how far would please Peter Reidinger? Today had opened up possibilities he had only tentatively dreamed about. And possibilities that he oughtn't to dream about-yet. The qualifier startled him.

He brought his attention back to the matter under discussion.

"I need to have comparison figures on what-" Alicia Taddesse began, glaring briefly at Fraga, as she pulled her notepad toward her "-Mr. Reidinger's services will cost SA as opposed to traditional fuel."