Nimisha's Ship
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Nimisha's Ship». Краткое содержание книги:
When Nimisha takes an experimental ship on a solo test flight, something goes horribly awry, marooning her light-years from home on a planet as deadly as it is beautiful. Now the ruthless members of a rival branch of the Rondymense family are given the chance they've been waiting for: to reclaim the Ship Yards by any means necessary.
Only Nimisha's ingenious child, Cuiva, stands in their way. But for how long? For just when her daughter needs her most, Nimisha is in a precarious situation herself--and unable to help. But Nimisha has never given up in her life--and she's not about to start now . . .
Caleb gave an amused snort. "I doubt our Tim will be a nothing anywhere, Syrie. You know how smart Jon and Nimisha think he is, and I know he's already proved it to Caleb Rustin. Look how he's helping their semantics officer adjust her translator units."
"But what if we're ordered to leave Erehwon, Casper?" she asked in a muted wail.
Casper pulled her to her feet and into his arms, where he held her tightly, smoothing back the short hairs that had escaped her braid. "If it comes to that, Syrie, I'll resign. You can, too, and we'll all be colonists. We have that right under Exploratory Service regs."
"I'd forgotten that," she said, and began to cheer up. She rubbed her cheeks dry. "I won't take long to change, dear. That's one advantage with uniforms," she added, carefully picking up her new one and making for the bathroom she had designed for their private use. "No problems about what to wear and when to wear what."
Jon had had a chance for a private conversation with Caleb Rustin in his cabin, though Caleb dodged most of the initial questions about his current orders and if there were some pertaining to the shipwrecked crew.
"There are two points that I didn't mention in any of the pulses, Captain-"
"Caleb, Jon."
"Thank you, sir… thanks."
"And what could you have failed to mention in the full reports I'm still reading?" Caleb asked, gesturing to the disks on his desk.
"The first oddity is that, when I computed the vector of the wreck we found in space on our way to Secondo, it had not-" Jon paused. "-come from the same area of space in which our worm-hole ejected us. Of course, as we know now, that wormhole moves about on the other side; after all, it caught the space station and Meterios, who were both supposed to be well beyond its range. So-" Jon hesitated again, dubious. "I wonder if there could be more than one wormhole emptying into this general vicinity."
Caleb considered that for a long moment. "We know so little about wormholes that you could be right."
"I'd rather not be," Jon said ruefully.
"Hmmm, yes, I agree. You said two points?"
"Yes, and maybe it is part of the first. On our way back from checking out the third M-type planet, the one Nimisha calls Tertio, I answered a muted alert from Helm. Nimisha was sleeping a lot just then, pregnant with the twins. I certainly didn't want to wake her unnecessarily. What alerted Helm was an old emission trail."
"It was?" Caleb sat up straighten elbows on the armrest, his fingers linked. "How old? What sort of fuel trace?"
"That we couldn't establish with any accuracy, but several months old at the least. The course just brushed the heliopause of Tertio. We diverted to see if we could pick up stronger traces. It was heading off our port side. Helm took readings of the stars in that direction, but none of them were close enough to be an immediate destination."
Caleb leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers thoughtfully.
"That's extremely interesting, Jon, because we found traces not that far from the beacon."
"You did? Meterios mentioned nothing."
Caleb snorted. "She only saw what she expected to see, although I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt in this instance. She was probably too busy catching loose pods and dodging the space station debris to notice anything as nebulous as that was, even three months earlier. But it's there. And we have it on record. Did Nimisha mention seeing anything on her way in?"
"No, and Helm would have mentioned a previous sighting. The one we saw was probably months old. Helm's a lot more sensitive than other ships."
"I think we might do well to set up a few drone-eyes," Caleb said. "And possibly a discreet installation on the farthest moon. As I'm sure you've gathered, we're here until further orders can be pulsed through to us. I hope you don't mind."
"Mind!" Grinning like an idiot, Jon shook his head in the human fashion. "Having new people here?"
"I rather thought that would be your reaction," Caleb said drolly. "In any event, we've enough equipment and certainly the skills to produce a good early warning system, even if we have to manufacture some things here on Erehwon."
Jon turned serious again, too.
"Two sightings might mean a reasonably regular shipping lane through this area of space. On the other hand, maybe the trail was from a ship heading away from another wormhole exit. I think I prefer shipping lines."
"I think I do, too," Caleb said with a grin. "But shipping what and by whom? M-type planets are rare enough. Since the Sh'im were caught by the wormhole, those traces might not be from their colony ships. I think we need more evidence before we put it on the worry list. I'll include your observations in my report."
Jon nodded. "Then, too, the Sh'im would prefer a dimmer primary than this one, or those of the other two M's. Sh'im eyes need shading. That's why we borrowed the tarpaulin." Jon gave a droll smile. "For an unpopulated area of space, this sector shows more traffic than certainly I thought there'd be."
"We'll just keep optics up there to spot the next batch of traffic. Did you ever see any exploratory probes while you were here?"
Jon gave a bark. "Not so much as a con trail. Though we were scarcely in a position to do any signalling once the shuttle was crocked. Sure had the surprise of my life when Nimisha flew in to our site on the Poolbeg's gig."
"Yes. but then she's been surprising people since she was Necklaced. Which reminds me, Jon…" Caleb rose and picked up a neat package from his bed. "Think these might come in handy for today's ceremony. And they've improved tropical dress whites while you've been gone."
Jon didn't waste any time opening the parcel and grinned with real pleasure to find the hat fit his head perfectly. "I appreciate this, Caleb, more than you know. Those dress blues are not for this climate."
"Got to preserve all the naval traditions we can. When the fun's over, let's get our com experts together and see what we can come up with"-Caleb held up a warning hand-"without exactly explaining why we want the equipment."
"Since when did the Navy explain more than need-to-know?" Jon asked with a cocky grin. Then he noticed the wall clock. "I'd better go get dressed. Thanks again."
Jon ended up showering and changing in the only empty cabin. He was buckling the white web belt-an item of uniform that had never altered-when there was a quick knock at the door and before he could say anything, Syrona, exceedingly correct in her whites, entered and closed the door behind her.
"I'm here to trim your hair, Captain Svangel."
Jon's right hand went to the damp hair well below his shoulders. Syrona grinned and held up scissors and comb.
"Casper didn't complain, and you better not."
"You haven't cut your hair, have you, Syrie?" Jon demanded anxiously.
She turned her head so that he could see the intricate braids that extended below the back of her hat.
"Sit," she said, pointing to the stool and draped his damp towel over his shoulders. "It won't take long. And may even look better than the job I did on Casper, now I've got the hang of it again."
"Hey!" Jon protested when he heard the first snip.
"Oh, relax. I've never cut anyone's ears, and you simply have to look as good as you can to match Nimi and Cuiva. That is, when her mother and Perdimia finally made her stop playing long enough with her brothers and sister to get dressed. You'd think they were more important than her Necklacing."
Jon chuckled, careful not to move his head. "Got over that one easily, didn't we?"
"Cuiva's a nice person. Everyone on the Five B-and we have got to do something about proper names for those ships, you know-thinks the world of Cuiva. D'you know she intended to keep looking for her mother if it took her entire life?"