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...
"No such report reached my desk," Matthew said, turning to Braddock. The younger man shrugged, but his startled face expressed guilt and chagrin. "Moreover, I have proof positive that that highly toxic coo-berry bramble thorn was deliberately placed in the caves at four or more different settlements to prevent entry and discovery of rich ore-bearing seams!"
"Wait a minute!" Farringer Ball said, banging a fist on the table. "All this is beside the point, Matthew. Especially if Marmion says we can harvest pharmaceuticals and get at least some ores… which ones, Marmion?"
"That is to be decided," Marmion replied, "but drills, excessive use of explosives-"
"secretary-general Ball!" Matthew all but roared. "You cannot believe the aberrant notion put forth by Chairperson Algemeine that this planet is sentient?"
"No, I believe in cutting losses and getting what we can out of a place that's causing far more fuss than it's worth," Farringer replied.
"It's a ball of rock, an inanimate object…" Matthew was pounding the table with one fist and almost bouncing on his feet in his protest.
Suddenly he was catapulted onto the table, face down, his nose spurting blood, as seismic activity produced a havoc that had everyone in the room either grabbing their chairs to stay in them or being bounced about the committee room. Grinding sounds were so loud that people clapped hands to their ears, as the building shook and more mist poured in from the cracked seams of floor, walls, and ceilings.
"Under the table!" Whittaker Fiske shouted, practically dragging Marmion after him as the two of them, closely followed by the other committee members, hogged the most sturdily built piece of furniture in the room. Before Matthew could join them, they were joined by Marmion's over qualified secretary, and there was literally no room for another body to squeeze in. Or so he thought, until he spied one far corner unoccupied and dove for it, only to be knocked away by Braddock Makem, the sniveling coward.
"Get out of there at once, Braddock!" Matthew commanded, or he meant to sound commanding. He was appalled at how his normally controlled decibels elevated into panicky-sounding squeals. "Where's your sense of priorities? I'm the commissioner here."
The guards stationed in the room and others-he wasn't sure who-seemed to be trying to beat in the door, or break out a window, permitting the mist to flow more freely through the shambles of a committee room A loud crash suggested that the main screen had fallen victim to the earthquake.
Matthew heard someone screeching for help and to his chagrin realized the voice was his own. Never mind. This was an emergency and he had been deserted by his colleagues. No time for niceties. "Help!" he screamed again.
"Try apologizing to the planet, Matthew!" Marmion bellowed over the crashings, splinterings, bangings, and other sounds of rending wood, plastic, and plaster. Ha! Easy enough for her to taunt him when she was protected by the table.
"Tell it you believe, Matthew!" Whittaker Fiske hollered as well. It was the last thing Matthew heard as the entire building convulsed; he felt wetness warm the crotch of his trousers and slide down his leg, and, as the sound of the tumult was drowned out by a roar that came from within his own head and the snow from the comm screen seemed to be affecting his eyesight, he followed his own urine onto the floor.
Whittaker Fiske nearly choked because he had been trying to yell to Luzon and laugh at the same time. The floor abruptly canted to the far end of the committee room. The table and those it sheltered were willy-nilly propelled downhill. Whittaker, one arm crooked around the table leg nearest him, managed to grab hold of Marmion, who caught Sally by the shoulder. Bal, Chas. and Nexim helplessly slid downward. Losing his footing, Luzon was rolled lengthwise against the table's sturdy legs and caught there. A tangle of uniformed limbs pressed him even harder against the table legs, and he began shouting warnings and dire imprecations against those who had him unwillingly pinned against the furniture.
The grinding noises increased, drowning out all other sounds, and then, with a mighty swooshing sound, the walls and roof of the commissioners' room collapsed over the table, which stolidly bore the extra weight, though some of the surface veneer audibly cracked.
The ensuing silence, as the swirling mist settled on everyone, was almost worse than the horrific bombardment of noise had been. Then a breeze, most peculiarly scented with floral aromas, wafted through the damaged room, settling the dust caused by the building's collapse and dispersing the mist.
"Marmion?" Whittaker asked, shaking his head to clear it from both the tumbling he had endured and the residue of the mist.
"I'm fine, shaken, but not bruised, thanks to your quick grab." she said, though her skirt was ripped and her blouse torn. ''Sally?"
"Okay, I think!"
Whittaker completed the roll call; the names he called out were answered by either groans or curses.
"Matthew?" Whittaker asked with some anxiety. It would be awfully awkward if the planet had inadvertently caused the death of Vice-Chairman Matthew Luzon. That could be considered vengeful, not that he didn't deserve it with his notion of removing all the Petaybeans and cutting the planet into bits.
"He's alive, sir, but unconscious," a deep male voice said. "I think it's all over and-oh, my God!"
"What? What's the matter?" Marmion asked, duly concerned by the awe and respect in that slowly enunciated epithet. She looked about her for a way out from under the table, but the walls and roof seemed to have collapsed to cover everything except for the spot kept open by Matthew's unconscious body.
She moved that way, gesturing for Whittaker and Sally to follow her. There was just enough room for them to crawl under the table top and over the limp Matthew, whose aroma was decidedly not floral, where he had been caught, chest and thighs, by the two table legs. Hands helped them to stand in a relatively free space, crowded though it was by uniformed bodies and the splintered remnants of the original door into the room. Oddly enough, that wall was standing.
Then Marmion turned in the direction the officer was staring.
"My word!" Her jaw dropped as she gazed out at the massive rock structure that had been punched through the surface that had once been the landing field of SpaceBase. "No, it's not quite a ziggurat," she murmured to herself, trying to remember where she had seen a very similar formation, like building blocks, or stepping-stones in some unfathomable pattern, rising high above them. Yet even as her amazed eyes took in the scope of the elevated area, she could see how one could fairly easily climb to the top, if one were daring. Once the last of the mists had cleared, what a splendid view one would have, too, to see what Petaybee had done to prove Matthew's assumption wrong.
People were emerging from upended and broken buildings all around this extrusion, dust-covered, quite likely amazed to have escaped with their lives.
"Is anyone hurt down here?" a familiar voice called from the corridor.
"Yana! Yanaba Maddock, is Clodagh with you? I think Matthew may be hurt," Marmion called back.
"Luzon?" There was a definite edge to Yana's tone, but then Marmion scarcely blamed her. "Is anyone else hurt?"
"I-I don't think so," Marmion said, twisting around to see Chas Tung, Bal Jostique, and Nexim Shi-Tu getting to their feet and dusting themselves off. Then they, too, caught sight of what had been elevated on the landing field and just stared at it.
Do them good, Marmion thought, for doubting!
"Are you all right? And everyone with you?" Marmion called.
Then Yana poked her head through the door while Sean carefully broke off the splintered wood of the door frame before it could do any harm.
"Clodagh's still counting noses, but we had the benefit of padded cells during the rough bit," Yana said with an irrepressible grin, "and the door locks released when the power went off." She gave a snort at the inadequacy of the security as she clambered over the door and knelt beside Matthew, feeling the pulse at his throat. "Well, he's alive-but you're bleeding, soldier. And Sergeant, that looks like a broken arm to me. Sit down here, against the wall. If it hasn't fallen before, it won't come down now. Ah, Bunny, find some water and see if you can find a medic running around loose."