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!
"Does this rendezvous have anything to do with the fact that each invitation was issued by a different VIP office?" Rhyssa put in. "Are they really valid enough to get us admitted?"
"Oh, yes," Johnny said, now urgently gesturing for them to enter the ship. They all had to crouch to do so. "I made damned sure of that!"
Did you have to steal them? Rhyssa asked.
Not exactly steal. Johnny chided her for her suspicions. Maybe purloin is the appropriate word because the last people Ludmilla wants on that Station today are Talents. And that's exactly why we have to be there. He ducked to take his place where a jury-rigged control board had been sited. He gestured for Peter to take the seat beside him.
There were also just four places, seats obviously taken from AirForce units to judge by the style of the safety harness.
"I assume you have a very good reason for smuggling us in, Johnny," Dave said.
"Oh, I do, but I don't know what it is, yet," Johnny said. "Not that I'm unnecessarily risking you three in a wild caper. Or my own neck. Madlyn's trying to get some information… she's still up there only because Ludmilla hasn't figured out yet that our Voice is Madlyn. And Maddie, bless her heart, volunteered to stay on during the switchover to Admiral Coetzer as the duty kinetic. Madlyn does a good 'scared-silly, mealy-mouthed' act around Ludmilla."
The young telepath, Madlyn Luvaro, was gifted with a telepathic voice that literally could be, and had been, heard from Padrugoi to Earth. Her kinetic ability, while minor compared to her telepathy, had been the ostensible reason she had been acceptable to Barchenka in the Talent Draft six months earlier. Sub rosa, she had done extraordinary service by keeping track of the hundreds of "casual" workers, the grunts, who were unlucky enough to become disengaged from their safety tethers and drifted out into space.
One of the conditions that Rhyssa as head of the Eastern Parapsychic Center had made to make the Talent Draft palatable to kinetics was that all extravehicular workers, grunts as well as specialists, would have safety tethers. Barchenka hadn't cared how many grunts she lost to such accidents. She wouldn't spare the work-hours or vehicles to rescue them. Not only had she refused to allow teams to stand by to catch drifters, she had also limited the oxygen supplied to grunts so that, if they lost their grip, their oxygen supply lastedtheir shift, with little left over. Barchenka's indifference had been one of the many reasons why Talents had refused to work on the Station. Then Barchenka had invoked an archaic pre-glasnost statute, a Russian one that should have long ago been repealed, stating that it was illegal to be unemployed and the state was the only employer, not the employer of last resort. This gave Barchenka the right, under Padrugoi's international charter, to draft any technicians, professionals, or workers required for the construction of the Space Station. The parapsychics had accepted that with as good a grace as possible. But they had also, in the line of duty, done what they could to help their fellow workers.
Though Barchenka had callously used the Talents she conscripted, she had never bothered to learn exactly what their Talents were, above and beyond the specialists she needed to finish the Space Station on time. So she had no idea that kinetics, like Madlyn, were also telepaths.
"Not that I don't want to be on the Space Station for the celebration of such a splendid human achievement," Dave said, "but last night we all watched the tri-d of her showing Admiral Coetzer around as the new commander."
"What? That tri-d fooled a hardened PR man like you? She had to do that," Johnny said deprecatingly. "I was there…"
"As General Greene?" asked Dave.
"Well, not so she'd've noticed," Johnny replied. "But there's something about her geniality," and he grinned back at Rhyssa and Dave, "that's very false. As well as totally out of character. Pete, don't help this 'lift.' I'll be using the push-pull method. I'd rather save you for later, if we should just happen to need our 'skeleteam.' He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
There was no sense of movement, although lights ran berserk patterns around Johnny's control panel. A metallic clank and a slight jar told the passengers that the drone had landed. Johnny swiveled, a finger across his lips for silence, sudden tension in every line of his body. A complicated rapping on the drone's hull made him relax.
"Okay, kids, invitations front and center. 'Cuse me," he added as he squeezed around Rhyssa to get to the hatch to unlock it. The panel swung open to a very narrow aisle between towering storage vats and crates.
"Sir? The way's clear. The teams're in place and you've got ten minutes," said an anonymous voice as Johnny stepped out. He had to sidestep to let the others disembark in the cramped space. He held out his hand to Rhyssa. Slim as she was, she had to tuck in her tummy, grateful that her pregnancy wasn't far enough along to impede her.
"Let's go then," Johnny said.
What teams, Johnny?
Ssshhh.
The general led them a circuitous way through the high-piled stores to a lift door. Where a simple pass card would ordinarily be inserted, a much bulkier unit was welded in place.
"Taking no chances," Dave murmured.
"None," Johnny said definitively and carefully inserted his invitation card.
"Accepted," said a mechanical voice, and the checkpoint spewed the card back out. "There are four persons to be carded."
"It can count, too?" Rhyssa said, stepping up and inserting hers.
"Made it easier to keep track of bodies in and out," Johnny said cryptically.
Only when all four invitations had been verified did the doors of the lift slide apart.
"Don't put 'em away," Johnny advised as he punched the uppermost button. "We've got to go through three more security checks before we get where we want to go."
Johnny? The voice was a loud whisper that both Peter and Rhyssa recognized as Madlyn Luvaro's. Is that you?
Who else were you expecting?
I don't want to answer that. Madlyn's mental tone held a definite nervous edge.
Peter and Rhyssa, and Dave, are with me. Johnny grimaced at the way he'd inadvertantly added Dave as a seeming afterthought. Who else did we manage to keep on board?
Everyone you asked, Madlyn replied, the relief obvious in her voice.
Any ideas as to what's going down?
None, and her mental tone was as frantic as it was apologetic.
Don't worry. We're here, Johnny reassured her.
The lift stopped and its door opened. Johnny gestured for the others to get out as fast as possible. At that it nearly caught Dave's left foot, it snapped shut so fast. Johnny gestured a turn down the next T-junction, urging speed. Rhyssa tried to estimate how long the lift ride had been but couldn't. What seemed most important was that the bleak halls were vacant of traffic. They were not however without a certain pervasive odor of air recycled with the unmistakable taints of overcrowded and under-washed humanity. She'd heard thateight men or women shared each inadequate cubicle. Rhyssa eyed the halls and functional doors that looked as if they led into dormitories.
"And none of the masses are permitted to join the festivities?" Rhyssa asked, as they reached the next lift column.
"You got it in one," Johnny said, slipping his card in the slot and motioning the others to be quick. "Of course, most of those are empty since Barchenka started shipping the grunts downside once she had no further use for their bods. The offies are on the lowest levels and kept there with double wristbands that allow no access elsewhere unless they're working under guard. None of them'll be seen today."