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!
"You know, we're being watched," Johnny said with a laugh.
"Watched like a hawk."
Lieutenant Liu nodded. "All the time. Corning up on TLI in thirty seconds."
"Committing TLI parameters to the computer," Johnny said. "Now all we have to do is sit back and relax." He turned to Peter. "Pretty soon you'll be able to walk around the old Apollo 12 site. It's just a hop, skip, and a jump from First Base, you know."
Peter spent a moment recalling pictures of the Apollo 12 Memorial Park. He had enlargements up on the board in his room. He'd watched the tour videos, too. He felt a thrill as he imagined being there himself: the kid who'd never once thought he'd get out of the damned hospital bed. You never knew, did you?
"You know," Bat Singh said to no one in particular, startling Peter with almost his exact thoughts. "Either I could use some sleep myself or I could use a beer."
RHYSSA! Amalda Vaden's sharp cry jolted Rhyssa out of a deep sleep. Something's wrong. With Peter.
In the Eastern Parapsychic Center alarms blared suddenly, alerting everyone on duty.
What is it? Rhyssa demanded of both Mallie Vaden and Budworth, the watch officer.
The precogs! They've got something, Budworth replied. I've got five corroborations, all strong.
What? Rhyssa shot back, willing Mallie, the strongest precog that she had set on watch for anything involving Peter, to answer.
Fire in the sky. They all see a huge fire in the sky, said Budworth.
So did I, and there was a profound sorrow in Mallie's mental tone.
Fire in the sky? Peter? Oh my God! Peter! Fire in the sky!
Confounded by Limo-34's telemetry, Commander Sakai leaned back in his chair, stretched, and indulged in a good yawn. He forced his mouth shut halfway through and arched out of the chair, punching up Limo-34's frequency.
"Limo-34, Limo-34, declare an emergency," he yelled into his headset.
"Oxygen levels are going back up again." Johnny swore as he did a final scan of the control panels just before the computers commenced the TLI-3 bum. "That can't be right."
"Well, the computers all agree," the copilot replied, "the levels are too low."
"They don't feel low," Johnny said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
Peter yawned again, his cheeks tingling.
"Limo-34, Limo-34, declare an emergency," the voice of Commander Sakai blared over their headsets.
Oh my God! Peter! Rhyssa's voice shrieked in Peter's head. Fire in the sky!
"The computers have initiated TLI-3," Lieutenant Liu reported.
The computers! Peter shouted to Johnny. Johnny responded with a moment of sheer terror that he rapidly brought under control but it was too much for Peter.
Later, no one could quite remember what happened. Rhyssa felt a sudden wrench in her contact with Peter and collapsed against Dave. In Geneva, at the site of the newly commissioned CERN gestalt generators, Professor Gadriel swore as his latest set of circuits burned out, while in the background the generators keened in agony.
Commander Sakai dropped back to his seat in horror as the TDRs relayed the growing fireball in the sky when Limo-34's fuel tanks exploded.
With the image still burning in his mind, Commander Sakai punched up the admiral's office.
"Sir, this is Commander Sakai," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "There's been a terrible accident."
10
Lance was updating the flight manifests when Colonel Watari found him. The colonel looked more solemn than usual.
"What's up?" Lance asked with no preamble.
The colonel's eyes sparked with anger for a moment and then faded. "Word just in from Padrugoi. Limo-34's fuel tanks exploded when they started TLI-3. No survivors. They didn't even have time to make it to escape pods."
Lance opened his mouth, tried to speak, and shook his head wordlessly, denying what he had just been told.
"Not that it helps," Colonel Watari offered, "but it was probably instantaneous. They never felt a thing."
From behind him a voice drawled, "Oh, I wouldn't quite say that. I've one helluva hangover."
"Johnny?" Lance shouted, instantly on his feet, his face lit with a huge grin at the welcome sight of a rumpled general, looking very much alive if slightly gray in the face. He started to rush toward the general but stopped himself, adding phlegmatically, "I shoulda known they couldn't kill you."
"They nearly did," Johnny replied with a sour grin, rubbing the back of his neck. "And the way this headache feels…"
It had been Rhyssa's terrified shout that had warned them. And Peter's frantic reaction that had saved them. In the instant Peter and Johnny had realized that the computers had been sabotaged, Peter recognized that his fatigue and tingling cheeks were signs of oxygen starvation. He had slapped the emergency shutdown on the ship's computers, jettisoned the engines and fuel tanks, and-Johnny still didn't quite know how-'ported Limo-34 to the safest place he could visualize in that horrible moment: 200 meters away from Apollo 12. And 400 million meters from the fireball.
Then Peter had collapsed, leaving Johnny to power up MPU Two-the one computer that hadn't been sabotaged and so had been consistently overridden by the faulty ones-and to teleport himself into First Base.
Johnny shook off the pain of his oxygen-starved headache and pointed to Watari. "You've got to get rescue vehicles over to the Apollo 12 site, like ten minutes ago."
"What?" Colonel Watari recovered from his shock but his dislike for anyone ordering him about in his own office showed in the frown on his face. "What's there? How'd you get here? What's going on?"
"In the order of your questions, Colonel, the Limo-34 or what's left of it, Minus the aft end. I 'ported me here. We were sabotaged."
"How? Who? What?" Lance babbled with delayed relief.
Johnny waved him off. "Later. There's not much oxygen left and what's there is mostly stale. If you please, Colonel Watari?" He flicked his hand at the control panels.
Even at the breakneck speed with which the First Base commandant organized the rescue party, it was still over twenty minutes before the cumbersome airlock bus was on its way and those in the cab on the lower deck of the facility could see the wreck. On the ground below it, a figure in an EMU waved urgently for more speed.
Is that Peter? Lance asked Johnny, who was clenching and unclenching his hands on the oh-my-god bar in the bus. This part of Oceanus Procellarum was relatively smooth as mares went, so Johnny's grasp was more nerves than need. They were all in EMUs, for Johnny wanted to investigate the Limo almost as much as Watari did.
Should be, Johnny replied. Peter had his EMU with him, checked and sealed by Silversmith. I didn't say he could go for a moonwalk but I won't fault him. The ambience in the crew compartment would be pretty dense for his innate sensitivity. Thank God for it. The EMU has its own oxygen and God knows one less inside leaves more for the others to breathe. Can't this thing go faster?
My GOD! And you landed that!
They were close enough to see details now as the disturbed moon dust was finally settling to the surface around the crash site. Watari and the driver in the cab of the airlock bus echoed Lance's exclamation of disbelief. The nose of the broken shuttle perched drunkenly on its forward landing skid, the rear cargo section resting on the lunar soil. The gold Mylar skin had peeled back for several meters, lifted from the metal hull by the heat of the exploding fuel tanks.