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 Warning! Object is under power. Repeat. Object is not in ballistic flight. Possible hostile intent.
Warning! ...
For the second time in his young career, Niles Pendergast found himself in the unenviable position of
calling the captain and telling him that something bad was happening.
#
Harlan Frees s reflexes took over the moment the General Quarters alarm began to beep in his
earphones. His crew of vacuum stevedores had just maneuvered the bulky fusion generator into position
next to the stardrive generator, but had not yet started the long, slow descent to the hard point on the
hull.
To the six spacers arrayed in a circle around the generator, he ordered.  Stand by to jettison! On the
count of three. One, two, three, jettison!
At the  Stand By order, the six shifted their grips on the half-sphere. Twelve gloved hands moved under
the outer rim of the generator, palms forward and up, as twelve knee joints flexed to prepare to lift. At
the end of Frees s count, all six put their backs into shoving the generator straight into the black sky. The
velocity imparted was not great, but the big mass rose perceptibly as it began its journey away from the
starship. Frees didn t care where it went so long as Magellan had room to maneuver if needed.
 Haskens, Baker, get Ms. Dresser back to the airlock. Double time!
The two spacers grabbed the surprised stardrive expert by the harness and jerked her off her feet. Using
their free hands, they pulled themselves along the safety lines leading back to the lock. Frees chinned the
control that would put him on the ship s main command circuit.
 Frees, on the hull with six spacers and Ms. Dresser. I have her and two men headed in, awaiting
orders.
 Where s that generator, Lieutenant? the duty officer asked.
 On its way to infinity, sir. It will clear the danger zone in another thirty seconds.
 Very well, stand by for orders.
A moment later, the captain s voice crackled on the circuit.  Frees, what is your consumable state?
 We ve oxygen for another four hours, Captain. Everything else is topped off.
 There s an object coming in from that solar yacht below us. Flight profile indicates a visitor in a vacuum
suit, although we have yet to confirm that. The object does not show a locator beacon. I repeat, no
beacon! I want you and a couple of your men to hook on maneuvering packs and go out to meet
whatever it is. Understood?
 Aye aye, Captain. Frees switched to his local frequency.  Donner, Kurtzkov, you are with me. You
other two get on packs and see if you can stabilize that damned reactor before it floats out of sight. Move
it!
#
Mark Rykand was more frightened than he had ever been in his entire life. He remembered the night he
had thought up this scheme. He had been half smashed and feeling mad at the world. That was the only
combination he could imagine that would cause him to consider such a damn fool stunt. He remembered
how confidently he had assured Gunter Perlman that he could reachMagellan on his own, or failing that,
merely call the station for someone to come pick him up. No problem, right? Somehow, the original
picture of himself in a vacuum suit, sailing confidently toward a ship and station too small to see, had not
included the heart that was now pounding in his ears and the adrenaline that saturated his blood. If only
?
he hadn t been so damned persuasive
Where he had made his mistake, he decided, had been the next morning when he had not phoned
Gunter, and called the whole thing off. Instead, he had placed a call to Sam Wheeling and explained his
need. Wheeling, in turn, had recommended a local vacuum supply company where he could purchase the
necessary equipment, and a local mechanic who would do the suit modifications he needed. The reason
for not having the manufacturer modify the suit was simple. The mods in question were illegal.
The vacuum supply company had been more than happy to sell him their top-of-the-line spacesuit,
maneuvering pack, extra oxygen tanks, power supply, sensors, and the navigation system required for
long jaunts orbit-to-orbit. The difficulty had come when Mark realized that the entire ensemble massed
more than a hundred kilos under Earth gravity and was ill suited to the sport runabout he was driving.
Eventually the suit occupied the passenger seat, looking like an oversize gorilla as it sat there with the top
down. Maneuvering pack and extra oxygen tanks had filled the rear seat to overflowing. Even strapped
in, the suit tended to flop onto the driver during a right turn. The first time it happened, Mark nearly lost
control of his car.
The next step had been more ticklish. Mark drove to the small shop the freelance mechanic operated out
of his garage and after twenty minutes spent feeling the man out, had contracted to have his suit modified
to his specifications. The first mod involved spraying the exterior with a non-reflective black coating that
absorbed radar waves. The second involved a software change to the suit s three computers. A vacuum
suit s locator beacon was supposed to operate as long as the electrical system was energized, and for up
to a month thereafter on battery. The change in system software allowed Mark to turn off his beacon
merely by speaking a password aloud.
While the mechanic was working on his suit, Mark made sure that Gunter remembered agreeing to let
him useGossamer Gnat . Gunter had been as reluctant to take part in the scheme sober, as he had been [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]