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!
Johnny gave a sideways grin of mischief. "Nothing we can't get ourselves, I suspect."
"Especially since you made it to First Base."
"Exactly. See you later, Dirk. C'mon, Pete. We'll earn our luxury holiday to the Moon."
They 'ported themselves into the conference room and turned up the lights. When Johnny 'ported in the recording equipment, Peter made his usual grimace. No need to alter his reaction to being recorded until he could prove his point.
"Look, we're doing this according to Mr. Hoyle and with tapes to prove it. I'm not going to have you overloaded," he said as he began placing the sensors on Peter. "I need logged proof of what mass you 'ported and the energy you expended. To give CFO Taddesse the proper corroboration that you're working according to the terms of your contract."
Peter submitted, hoping his suppressed excitement didn't register as an energy reading. Then he spread out the list, beginning to check off the items, which included calculations of mass, descriptions of contents, and the current location in the various cargo corrals. Johnny called up separate windows for each of the locations and gestured for Peter to settle himself comfortably.
"Watari doesn't want much, does he?" he grunted as he checked off individual units and tallied a total of their mass.
"A lot are lightweight," Peter said, keeping his smile to himself. Once again he was diverted by the subcutaneous spasms on the back of his right hand. He didn't feel anything, of course, but he'd never noticed a visible twitching before.
"Okay! This is the first batch. I'll assemble them in a pack." He grinned at Peter. "You can send them all to the main supply depot on First Base now that we both are familiar with it!"
"That's right. We've both seen it." But Peter amended to himself: It isn't that we need to see where we're going to dump shipments, though that's essential, too. It's that we don't put artificial limits on ourselves, like only to and fro between Jerhattan Space Port and Padrugoi Station. That was the distance Johnny had limited himself to. Another requirement was to use the right sort of generator for each individual until he or she could learn to "tune" in to any kind. Like the CERN generators that he had tapped in to save Limo-34 in that critical moment. He was relieved that an official apology, and compensation for the fried circuits, had been given Professor Gadriel.
However, if he was to fool Johnny into an innocent 'port as far as the Moon, where had he been on First Base that Johnny hadn't? Oh, and Peter felt a surge of amusement, the observatory! Were there visuals of that distinctive stain, the southern half of the South American continent? Or, using that as a design, could he render a good digital representation? The voice-address unit in his cabin was stateof-the art.
"I've got the first load assembled, Pete," and Johnny pointed to the lower left-hand window on the monitor. Station lights illuminated the mix of crates.
Peter "felt" them. Then he put his mind to "touching" Padrugoi's generators. They were different; lighter, crisper, easier to deal with than nuclear- or fuel-powered ones. He chuckled. They were tuned to a C major chord, the same as the CERN gestalt generators and the Farside Telescope's solar array. Which would be best for his ultimate purpose? He wondered if his use-energy readings would mirror the light crisp feeling, the C major. Did he have to draw on them less, or more, than other types?
He couldn't see the screen of the recorder from his angle. He could wait until the day's work was dispatched. Back to the matter at hand, sending his bread-and-butter thank-you shipments to First Base.
The mass of the containers was not unwieldy: certainly nothing like the heavy mass of the 34, which he had heaved toward First Base. He "saw" the exact area on the depot floor against the north wall that he and Johnny had designated. He caught up the mass, leaned just the right amount into the generators, and pushed.
"Easy," Peter said, taking a deep and satisfied breath when he'd finished.
"Now, let's see how long it takes them to realize they've got their order. How do you feel, kid?" Johnny cocked an eyebrow.
"Fine," Peter said with a shrug.
"I'll get the next batch ready. Do you need anything?"
"Not yet. Hey, shouldn't we tell Rhyssa that we're back?"
"Not at three A.M." Johnny pointed to the time zone clocks. The face labeled "Jerhattan" displayed the very early morning hour.
Peter now remembered the odd jerks of the muscles on his right hand. The hand was doing nothing right now, relaxed on the tabletop.
They did three more light 'portations in the next two hours. Johnny was separating a larger mass when the conference room comm beeped.
"Yes, sir," Johnny answered without much courtesy. "Oh," and his face brightened. "Took them long enough to notice." He pressed the speaker button and the admiral's query was audible to Peter.
"How many have you sent? How's Pete?"
"Four." Johnny answered the first question.
"I'm fine, Admiral," Peter replied for himself.
"Do you need any calories?" A faint hint of amusement colored the admiral's voice.
"Not yet."
"I had Barney order in some fruit and savories for you." Then the connection was broken.
Peter could not stifle his groan. Did everyone on the Station know exactly what he was supposed to eat? He saw the muscles on the top of his left hand begin to jump. As soon as he could, he wanted to ask Ceara about that! He didn't want any physical problems cropping up right now to postpone his analysis of the use-energy printout data.
"Time, kid," Johnny said and Peter obediently "saw" the mass ready to 'port and dispatched it.
"Now, I'll have some fruit," he said.
At nine A.M., at the end of his shift, he 'pathed to Rhyssa, who would now be in her office. Rhyssa?
Peter! Where are you?
Onstation, earning my keep. Is everyone all right down there?
Of course, and her mental tone implied that nothing ever happened "down there" that he should worry about. But I wasn't notified.
No one was, Rhyssa. Not even the admiral.
You said you were earning your keep? When did you get back to Padrugoi? Why haven't you contacted Madlyn? She said you weren't to be back onstation for another two days from the last report she had.
You know how devious Johnny can be.
Indeed!
We're still not here, which is why we didn't contact Madlyn. Only Dirk.
She paused. Well, I suppose that's advisable with all that's happening. Did he bring you up to date? Barchenka may be implicated as well as that wretched Shimaz… Peter felt her mental revulsion for the man. He had never forgotten the way the man had leered at Rhyssa that day in her office. And Flimflam. I can't believe they're able to pull off such antics when they're supposed to be so closely watched!
Me neither! Peter tried to suppress the rancor he felt.
Peter! Rhyssa, catching it, sounded alarmed and critical.
Then she went on more briskly. We also need to talk about that long-distance call you made me.
Look, Barney's bringing in our order and I'm starved, he said to change the subject. He didn't want to talk about that now. Maybe he could fob Rhyssa off until he had really good news to impart. When I've finished eating, I'm going to bed, tucked in safely by the good general.
Peter! There was now concern in her tone.