Power Lines
- Автор: Маккефри Энн, Скарборо Элизабет
- Серия: Petaybee #2
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Power Lines». Краткое содержание книги:
Only solid evidence would convince the company to leave the planet alone, and for all its sentience, Petaybee's communications were highly subjective; indeed, some outsiders seemed entirely immune to its voice. So Yana and her friends would have to find some other way to prove that the planet was worth more to the company alive than dead...
"Where're yours, Marmie? Whit asked, cocking an eye-brow at her.
She winked. "I don't work them half as hard, but they find out twice as much. And," she said on a sigh, "we'll need every smitch of help we can find with Farringer the tie breaker." Adak burst through the door.
"He's dead!"
"Who's dead," everyone demanded simultaneously.
"That smelly Shanachie Howler!"
"Of what?" Sean asked.
"Smelling himself in a MoonBase cubicle, probably!" Yana quipped.
"Nah! Not a bit of it." Adak shook his head and waved his hands in his excitement. "Get this! He was done in by the same thing as killed Lavelle!"
Yana locked eyes with Sean.
"There's more, too!" Adak was almost spitting in his effort to get the second message out. "Satok had…" He turned his eyes to the roof again and recited, "An atrophied node in the cerebellum, only four hundred twenty-three grams of brown fat, and all his vitals was poisoned. Soyuk Ishunt, Clancy Nyangatuk, and Reilly also had atrophied nodes and poisoned organs."
"Was the node in Howling's case mentioned?" Sean asked.
Adak looked down, wrinkling his leathery brown face in deep thought. "Hmmmm… think it was, but it wasn't atrophied none." He took another breath. "And they're sending some special medical equipment down. CAT scanner."
Yana couldn't help inhaling at that news and glanced at Sean for reassurance. He cocked an eyebrow in response, but his unworried attitude and relaxed posture still did not relieve her fears that his shape-changing abilities would somehow be revealed by scanning.
On the other hand, Marmion burst out laughing. "One thing sure," she managed to gasp out, "there isn't one built to accommodate Clodagh Senungatuk!"
That observation did provoke chuckles, and the tension in the room went down a few notches.
"But that's probably the only good thought I can express," Marmion went on, "as Nexie's a biochemist and has"-she paused, her expression darkening-" 'other methods' more intrusive and certainly unpleasant."
"We'll see about that," Whittaker said, his eyes narrowing. "Neither Clodagh Senungatuk nor Sean Shongili have committed any crimes against Intergal regulations. Even this house arrest is farcical. Integal cannot subvert CIS civil rights except in circumstances of armed conflict, and Clodagh's squirt bottle doesn't appear on any list of weaponry I've ever seen modern or ancient. Adak, you still got the secured channel?"
"Ah, hmm, well…" Adak looked wildly around the room at everyone except Sean, but somehow saw the brief nod.
"C'mon then," Whittaker said, urging Adak to the door and laying an arm across the man's shoulders as they departed. "Be back in a nano."
Marmion looked considerably more cheerful. "Let's hope he can get a message through all the static to the proper authorities. At first, I thought the pilots were just saying that to be obstructive. But it's real now. Do you know what's causing so much interference, Sean?"
"Sure," he replied good-naturedly. "Atmospheric anomalies and the stratospheric turbulences caused by the crustal activity with some vigorous sunspots." Then he paused and creased his brows a little. "Coaxtl told Nanook that the 'home was changing.' According to Bunny, Coaxtl also told that to 'Cita when she was in her charge. But none of the track-cats, nor Clodagh's, for that matter, are the least bit worried."
"They never are," Marmion said wryly.
"Oh, they have been," Sean replied in mild reproof.
Marmion leaned forward, resting one hand lightly on his forearm. "How does she?"
She broke off at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Whittaker and Adak returned, neither looking very pleased. Whittaker almost slammed the door.
"Could barely get the call letters out clear enough to be recognized,'' Whittaker said, frowning with frustration.
"Message was short and maybe too sweet for the kind of action we might need to have available. Got hold of Johnny, too, and asked him to send next time he's above turbulence. Damned planet's messing us all up, and we're the ones trying to help!" He turned on Sean, who seemed unaffected by the communications failure. "Boy, how long can you live on a space station with no immunity?"
"Four, five days."
Yana felt her heart skip a beat and surreptitiously placed one hand over her still-flat belly. How could he announce his life expectancy so calmly?
"Clodagh?"
"Same, but it won't come to that, Whit. Believe me."
Dr. Whittaker Fiske cocked his head toward his right shoulder, planted both fists on the belt that circled his thin waist, and demanded, "If I could believe you, Dr. Shongili, I'd sleep a lot easier, and so would all your friends."
"Believe me, and that's bankable!"
"It is?' Marmion perked up, her fiscal senses alerted.
"Look." Sean splayed one hand, folding a finger down for each point he made. We've got to prove the planet is sentient? We can and we will! We've got to prove that it's in the company's interest to let the settlements remain because they can prove economically profitable, too, ugh not necessarily as predicted from the original surveys. We've got to prove that our ways"-and he gestured to Adak, Yana, who managed a little smile at the compliment, and out the window toward Clodagh's house-"protect an environmental entity from abuse and misuse in the best interests of itself and the company which awakened it." He nodded at Whittaker. "We also have to prove that the charges of malfeasance, misconduct, insubordination, and fraud, which Matthew Luzon's about to level against some of us and/or the entire population, are as ludicrous as Shepherd Howling."
"And smell just as bad," Adak added with a sharp nod of his head.
"Sacre bleu!" Marmion exclaimed. "We're not asking for much, are we?" Then, sighing, she shook her head slowly from side to side. "We got a lot of heavy metal men against us in that crew Matthew's brought down."
"But they're on our turf," Sean said with one of his most charismatic and enigmatic smiles.
"And Matthew's doing his best to predispose them against Marmie and me because we've been so obviously 'taken in'"-Whittaker made the bracket signs with his hands-"by the natives."
"Indigenous personnel, Whit, please," Marmion said in mock petulant correction. "However, I can prove readily enough that I haven't lost my wits or been mesmerized by local sharmans." She rose. "I shall demonstrate it this evening." She gave a little chuckle. "I happen to know that Bal and Nexie lost a few trillions on an enterprise which -and she placed one hand with elegant grace on her chest-"had the good sense to forgo. So we'll leave you." She linked arms with Whittaker and led him out of the house. Just at the door she paused and looked back over her shoulder at Sean, her lovely eyes anxious. "You're positive, Sean, that neither you nor Clodagh are in danger of being removed from this planet!"
He nodded, smiling. "Positive!"
When the door closed on the two, Yana and Adak turned on Sean.
"Positive!
"Positive!" he said, but his mouth had a particularly grim set as he said it.
Chapter 15
To her amazement, Marmion de Revers Algemeine found that her taste had altered during her weeks on Petaybee. The elaborate and extensive array of courses set before the committee members at dinner that evening-an evening fortunately free of tremors, shudders, or shakes-did not suit her palate, much less her mood. She really did prefer the simpler, sharper tastes of Petaybean foods: a rabbit stew would have been far more satisfying than the overly subtle coulis, sauces, and dressings that accompanied each dish. She saw Whittaker making as slow a progress through the banquet as herself, but at least she could cry off on the grounds of watching her diet.
Matthew and Torkel cleared every plate, bowl and platter set before them, but Marmion slyly noticed that like her own three aides, some of Matthew's pretty boys were less than enthusiastic about the rich food. Chas. Bal, and Nexim had no problems, though twice Bal called the head steward over to make muttered complaints and reject a dish after one bite. Maybe his new stomach was developing the same ulcers the old ones had, Marmion thought to herself. A body could have certain dispositions no matter how many parts of it were replaced with functional substitutes.