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!
Yeah, and Johnny sounded disgusted.
Admiral Coetzer, in the black uniform of his new responsibility, followed her, leading others of his staff, each paired with one of Ludmilla's outgoing executives.
At least they're wearing different uniforms, Johnny added.
Can't they get on with it! Peter said impatiently as the seating on the stage filled with the honored guests.
As the stage access door closed and the last person sat down, Peter emitted another gusty sigh.
Ludmilla Barchenka rose, nodded abruptly to Admiral Coetzer, and they both went to the table placed to one side of the lectern. An aide rushed to pull off the velvet covering and exposed the gleaming metallic switch, atop a pedestal.
The admiral smiled. Barchenka didn't.
"This is what you are here to see," she said in her accented and guttural voice.
She grasped the control, held it up for all to see, and then plunged the old-fashioned switch to the far side. Immediately, lights so brilliant that they momentarily dazzled the viewers came up outside and Peter wasn't the only one to gasp in amazement. The great upper wheel of the Station, a connected polygon where moorings and airlocks were located, was agleam with lights. Massive arrays illuminated the hull of the spaceship that would be the first of many scheduled to leave the Station on colonial missions. The size of it dwarfed even the great wheel.
Peter Reidinger seemed to back away from the vision. Rhyssa saw tears in his eyes and the wishful expression on his mobile face. When his chest did not rise, she elbowed him and he took a deep breath.
Easy, love, she added, her mental touch gentling his emotional response to the sight. You got here, to the Space Station, didn't you? You've come such a long way in a short period of time.
Startled, Peter glanced quickly at her. You don't mean I could go on her, do you? He raised his hand in the direction of the spaceship.
Equally surprised, Rhyssa exchanged eye contact and drew her lips down in a regretful moue. She'll be leaving on her first voyage this year You won't be old enough, dear, even if a kinetic would be a wise addition to her crew. It's not as if you could push her to her destination, is it? We do have to know where we're 'porting something.
We've got pretty good resolutions of the planetary systems they're going to… Peter couldn't actually wriggle his body but that was the impression Rhyssa had of what he would have liked to do just then. Time-resolved images, they call 'em, he said, remembering some of his astronomy.
"Not clear enough to 'port to, Peter. Not yet she said sadly. Dave gave a sideways glance at the pair. "Though God knows that would reduce the voyage considerably."
"You aiming to start shifting spaceships now, Peter?" Dave asked, referring to Peter's feat of the shuttle landing in Dhaka.
"Archimedes said, 'Give me where to stand and I can shift the Earth,'" Peter replied, grimacing up at Rhyssa.
"If you figure out where that is, Peter, you'll be assured of a place in history," Dave said with a droll grin.
"I'm working on it," the boy replied.
On the podium now, the World President Martin Cimprich had replaced Admiral Coetzer. With many flowing and apparently sincere phrases, the President thanked Manager Barchenka for succeeding "where so many others had been defeated by such a monumental task" in completing the Space Station on time. He added remarks about her devotion to the project, about her immense personal achievement, and how vital the Space Station would be to the peoples of Earth in their search for new worlds to inhabit. Barchenka, still standing, shifted from one foot to another, showing her usual impatience with speeches. As if Cimprich was aware of her restiveness, he cleared his throat and then, smiling at her, gestured for an aide to approach.
"It is my infinite and distinct pleasure, Manager Barchenka, to present you with this." A splendid sculpture, a rectangle of glittering plastic showing Padrugoi Space Station hanging above the Russian quadrant of Earth, passed from the aide's hands to his. With a very courtly bow, Cimprich presented it to Barchenka.
With a very brief smile and an ungracious snatch, she took possession of the sculpture. Then, with a flick of her fingers, she dismissed President Cimprich to his seat. She turned to the lectern and settled the heavy sculpture on its top with a thud that echoed through the audio system.
"Why do they have to mess this all up with speeches?" Peter demanded, and once again began to levitate until Rhyssa put a warning hand on his elbow. Will we be able to get on board the spaceship while we're up here?
I doubt it, Peter, so look your eyes full of her. We'll see about an official visit later. Admiral Coetzer knows of your part in the Bangladesh emergency.
"There is no way to keep the politicians and the orators away from such a fine opportunity to exercise their own voices," Dave said quietly, in answer to Peter's spoken question. "Especially during an election year."
"Don't remind me," Rhyssa said with a mock groan.
With no thanks to the President for his presentation, Barchenka began to enumerate the problems that she had had to overcome from day one of her assignment as Manager.
"She had to overcome?" Peter whispered, disgusted.
"Well, she did," Rhyssa said, adding sourly, "even us."
Barchenka appeared determined to recite every one of the obstacles in the path of the successful completion of the first World Space Station. She phrased her words as an indictment of those who did not spring willingly to her aid when first approached.
"'Accosted' is more like it," Dave said softly behind his hand. Rhyssa could not help a wry grin.
She says nothing about our help, Peter 'pathed sullenly to Rhyssa.
Did you expect her to? General John Greene asked from his seat among the military, on the far side of the auditorium.
If it weren't for us, Peter said angrily, she wouldn't have finished on time, or ever.
But she did, Johnny reminded him. And I'm not sorry I helped.
She still should give us credit.
Peter, Rhyssa replied firmly, never will she give us any credit No one does, and frankly, I'm all for anonymity. About ninety-nine percent of the indigenous population of Earth is afraid of psionic abilities.
Why? Peter frowned at his friend and mentor.
Because, lad, the parapsychic are different, said the distinctive voice of Australian Lance Baden, and you, in particular, are much safer being anonymous.
I don't want credit, Peter protested, turning his head to the left, in Lance's direction. But you and the other Talents who got stuck up here deserve it.
We don't expect it, Johnny said in a blithe tone. Nor do we want it from that source. Ooops, well, she's taking credit for reducing loss of life on the Station, too. Now to that I'll take exception.
Peter was probably the only one who was aware that it was the General who "reached out." Even Peter didn't at first realize what John Greene had done with that slight kinetic pulse. Suddenly Barchenka was scowling down at the prompter screen from which she had been reading her speech. She paused, scowled, lifted her hand to adjust dials, at first calmly, but when nothing seemed to improve, she thumped the screen in several places. Then, her expression registering fury, she slewed partway around and imperiously beckoned to someone standing at the back, below the stage.