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!
"Ms. Taddesse, I am already under contract to SA," Peter replied gently.
Ha, she forgot that, Johnny said.
"My salary on a per diem basis is a quarter of the cost of a pair of full " and Peter could not resist lightly emphasizing that adjective, "fuel tanks and most freighters require ten for a round-trip."
She spoke figures into her notepad. A hint of a smile played on her lips.
"Less urgent supplies would still have to be freighted," Peter said, steepling his fingers; in an attitude he thought would make him appear more assured than he was.
You're doing fine, Pete, Johnny said, a grin in his voice though he kept his expression politely attentive.
"I would like to physically visit the Moon, if that's all right with you, Colonel Watari," Peter said, and smiled at Lance Baden. "I would need good telepad sites."
"Telepad?" the colonel repeated.
"Like the X in a circle that designates a helicopter landing site. I doubt you want me to place shipments at the third bollard from the right in the parking lot."
"I see no problem with establishing formal delivery locations," the Secretary said, smiling as he looked over at Johnny Greene. "If you'd care to accompany Mr. Reidinger, General? I know you haven't made it to First Base yet." When Johnny nodded, Abubakar went on. "I think we can provide you both with a personal inspection of the facilities, don't you, Colonel?"
"Yes, yes, of course, Secretary," Watari replied. "We've a Rest and Reenlistment flight going out tomorrow, in fact. It's returning with some urgently needed personnel but there's certainly room for Mr. Reidinger and General Greene."
"I appreciate that, Secretary."
"That would take over a week," Alicia Taddesse said, not quite protesting, "even if they only stayed a day to site these, ah, telepads."
"A necessary condition," Peter said. "I must also remind you that my current contractual schedule is three weeks onstation, one week on the surface."
Taddesse shot upright in her chair, startled. "But-!"
Peter managed an indolent Greenesque shrug. "That schedule is in my current contract," Peter said in a tone that brooked no argument. She stared at him, all hint of the smile wiped from her expression. "The Eastern Parapsychic Center would strenuously resist any amendment at this point in time."
"I find that unacceptable," she began.
"I do not," said the admiral firmly. "We are lucky to have Mr. Reidinger at any time, Ms. Taddesse. His presence on the Station was the reason Monday's fiasco did not turn into a major disaster."
"My contract does include emergency assistance, Ms. Taddesse," Peter added politely.
Taddesse turned to the admiral. "Aren't there emergency crews on standby at all times?"
"Of course there are, Ms. Taddesse," the admiral replied. "Rescue gigs are on patrol in every quadrant and they quickly moved into position, as you can see on the visuals when you review the tapes. Mr. Reidinger and General Greene expedited rescue and containment, reducing damage to personnel, freighter, and cargo."
"Excuse me, sir," Colonel Watari said. "Engineering would be very grateful if Mr. Reidinger could send us Waybill number AF22BH47503."
"What's the mass?" Peter asked, wanting to show Taddesse that he was cooperative.
Watari looked offscreen. "One hundred and five kilos."
Ask if that figure includes its packaging, Pete. Johnny said.
"That includes packaging, Pete," Lance said from First Base.
Great minds, Johnny said with a chuckle.
"How much of that mass is packaging?" asked Peter aloud.
"You'd need the packaging," Watari protested.
"Packaging's forty kilos," Lance said, and Watari gave him a sharp look for his response. "The volume is 100 by 40 by 60. Centimeters."
"Those selenoseismic sensors can't be bounced about," the colonel objected.
"They won't be," Lance said, with a sideways, almost condescending glance at the base commander. "I can receive, Pete, if you think I'm needed."
He doesn't think he is, Johnny said so emphatically that Peter ignored the growing doubt in Taddesse's attitude. He trusted Lance implicitly. He trusted Johnny, too, but not the general's propensity to get him into situations before he realized he was involved.
"We'll have to locate the item first," Peter said, trying to sound very businesslike.
"Of course," the admiral said, and turned to give orders to his yeoman and Commander Chatham, who had anticipated the request and were busy at their notepads.
"I'm not so sure about removing the packaging," Taddesse said, regarding Peter with narrowed eyes.
"I don't drop things," Peter said, irritated by her continued skepticism. "If I am to be effective as a courier, the less unessential mass I have to teleport, the better, and the more I can shift per working hour."
That's right, Pete, don't let her bully you. She needs you far more than we need her Johnny imagined himself a rooster, crowing on a rooftop at sunrise.
"A good point," the Secretary said, tactfully overriding that concern.
"I've located the shipment, sir," Commander Chatham said.
"If you'll put up the coordinates, Commander," Johnny said, losing his pose of indolence. "Naturally it's the one in that temporary net." He gave a long-suffering sigh. "But at least it's in the priority section."
"That poses a problem, General?" Taddesse said, and it was obvious that she hoped there was one.
"Do you want it in here?" Johnny asked.
"You wouldn't want it in here, General," Commander Chatham said. "Not with all that packing."
"Oh, I stripped off unessentials," Johnny said, and leaned back in his chair.
Of all in the room only Peter was aware that the general had employed a light gestalt. He couldn't resist grinning.
The three sensors, in lightweight, transparent bubble pack, appeared on the end of the conference table where Mai Leitao had been seated. Taddesse gasped, one hand going to her throat. Colonel Watari jerked out of his chair on First Base.
"Careful with those!" Colonel Watari cried, one hand extended in an unconscious warding.
"I didn't hear so much as a bump, Colonel," Secretary Abubakar said soothingly.
"More like a swoosh as it slid into place," Fraga added encouragingly.
"Do you enjoy playing hopscotch, General?" Taddesse said in an acid tone of voice.
"Only with those who can't see the numbers on the paving, Ms. Taddesse," Johnny said, showing her his teeth.
Whatever the CFO might have said, and her anger was palpable in her flushed cheeks and rapid breath, the Secretary held up his hand to forestall it. With a visible shake of her head, she subsided, staring at the montage of Padrugoi on the opposite wall.
During that brief exchange, Peter had "felt" the substance of the sensors, mentally examining the volume, as someone would take a cautious taste of unfamiliar food. Most times he didn't need to do any psychic handling since the manifests always told him what he was about to 'port.
"I think it would be wisest for me to deliver them directly to your office, Colonel," Peter said. "Lance, may I have the exact coordinates?"
"Of course, Pete," and yet another window opened at the base of the conference room screen with the lunar location. First Base in Oceanus Procellarum was situated near the Moon's equator at 3?11'40'' south latitude and 23?23'8" longitude.
Take your time, Pete, Johnny said. Aloud he added, "Commander Chatham, you might have one of the standby gigs collect the packaging before someone in the marshaling yard sounds an alarm. It's in, the priority section of the corral."
"Very good, sir."