[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"Seems obvious."
"Everything's obvious except how you did it, darlin'," Trafalgar
said, and reached out to give her a touch. "What if those
numbers SIPACUM was putting out hadn't been "
"They were. I knew they had to be. I can't tell you how, Traf. I
just . . . know. They seem right."
"Lord, lord and my grandfather's ghost!" Trafalgar said
"Better get used to it," Sweetface said. "There are more jumps
on a short tight course like this than a long haul. And they're
all close to planetside, triple-looping around T-SA "
"Please try not to use that word looping," Trafalgar said.
"Somehow it puts my innards on uneasy ground."
Cinnabar's voice came over the inship comm from its station
aft. "Nice going, Captain Quindy ma'am. Is it against the regs
for crew to call in bets during the Race? I want to up mine!"
"Your bungle, Cinnabar," Trafalgar said. "You should
have done like ol' Trafalgar. I left standing orders to up my
bets every time the odds changed. And you can bet they
changed just now!"
They had. Bets were being increased all over the System. The
fans had a new hero in Quindarissa. Never had they seen such
daringly successful ship-handling. Many missed some of her
best maneuvers simply because they were away from their
screens at the time; they couldn't believe that return of signal
with return to "normal" space was possible
136 JOHN CLEVE
so soon. Then some diehard would come running from a
public screen, shouting, "Hoy! Kaufmann's Planet just popped
in from Sunmother's TPs!" and fans would run into the bars
and public viewing areas. Soon they learned to arrive early
when expecting Sunmother's advents. When it was out of
conversion they stayed raptly before the screens unless they
remembered a sudden errand at the betting terminal.
They were rewarded. Sunmother placed first overall
and became the favorite to win the Five-Year Race. Many fans,
not to mention members of the Satana Coalition, went to bed
richer the night the last ships came home from their trials.
Quindarissa was now the captain to beat. The fans
knew that. The crew of Sunmother knew that, jubilantly.
And the other captains knew that.. . .
"Race Inspector," the small man said to Quindy,
presenting his credentials. "Checking to see that all equipment
is regulation."
"Again?" Quindy sighed. "We had one yesterday.
"There's always the chance someone shifted some cassettes
onboard since then, Captain, so we double-scan. First
inspector mighta missed something."
"Uh. Come onboard. I'm going with you though to
make sure you don't forget anything. I'd rather not have to be
awakened the night before the Race because you want to do
this again."
She stood aside from the hatchway of Sunmother at
the ship's end of the umbilical tunnel that connected the craft
with Kobastation.
The visit to Kalahari had been Quindy's only ground
leave in many jumps. After the publicity of being merely an
entrant let alone the favorite she had decided to forgo
another leave and stay onboard while the rest of the crew
RACE ACROSS THE STARS 137
went planetside. It was her custom in any case. The
threatened attention had simply made the choice easier.
Now she showed her unwelcome visitor around the
ship. He poked under consoles, ran routines on SIPACUM
made systems checks, ticked off lists of spare parts. Finally he
asked that Sunmother's captain open the service panel of the
main drive.
Quindy impatiently popped the stasis locks and
removed the panel. The inspector bent his head into the
opening and began to examine the works.
"Sorry we hafta do this," he said, his voice echoing
hollowly from within. "Had a captain try to sneak in his own
modified gas-filter correlation radiometer one year. Strictly
non-reg."
"I don't see what difference it makes what
equipment's in the double-p," Quindy said. "Sublight is
sublight. It's the converters that count."
"Well mmph you know how, ahh, sticky regs can
be, Captain. Hm. Shoot me that spot-torch from my kit, will
you? Thanks.... Where's your ion flow safety discharge?"
"Top right. Haven't you ever seen an Ihke housing
before?"
"Oh, pos. Not too many. Advanced!"
"Pos. Good ship we've got." Quindy tapped a foot in
boredom.
"There, now just hand me " the inspector began,
swinging an arm toward the opening from within. He broke off
as his wrist hit the edge of the housing wall. A short sharp
tinkle sounded from just within the housing.
"What the vug was that?" Quindy asked.
"Oh, what a grunje!" The man stuck his head out of
the Opening. "Broke the crystal on my wristchron.
"Real glass?" Quindy turned to look.
"Firm. Present from my mother."
138 JOHN CLEVE
"Oh for ... look at this! It's all over the lubeslot! You
want to grind up my drive? Slok!"
He looked nicely contrite. "Sall right. Slot's closed.
Gimme my hand vac and I'll clean it up for you."
"You'd better." Quindy handed him the device.
He disappeared inside with it. Faint humming came
from within, followed by rattles as the glass was sucked up
into the collection chamber. At last the inspector emerged.
"Clean ship, in all senses," he said with a smile. "Sorry
to have troubled you, Captain."
She flipped her fingers. "Have to do your job, I guess.
Sorry about your chron." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
"Seems obvious."
"Everything's obvious except how you did it, darlin'," Trafalgar
said, and reached out to give her a touch. "What if those
numbers SIPACUM was putting out hadn't been "
"They were. I knew they had to be. I can't tell you how, Traf. I
just . . . know. They seem right."
"Lord, lord and my grandfather's ghost!" Trafalgar said
"Better get used to it," Sweetface said. "There are more jumps
on a short tight course like this than a long haul. And they're
all close to planetside, triple-looping around T-SA "
"Please try not to use that word looping," Trafalgar said.
"Somehow it puts my innards on uneasy ground."
Cinnabar's voice came over the inship comm from its station
aft. "Nice going, Captain Quindy ma'am. Is it against the regs
for crew to call in bets during the Race? I want to up mine!"
"Your bungle, Cinnabar," Trafalgar said. "You should
have done like ol' Trafalgar. I left standing orders to up my
bets every time the odds changed. And you can bet they
changed just now!"
They had. Bets were being increased all over the System. The
fans had a new hero in Quindarissa. Never had they seen such
daringly successful ship-handling. Many missed some of her
best maneuvers simply because they were away from their
screens at the time; they couldn't believe that return of signal
with return to "normal" space was possible
136 JOHN CLEVE
so soon. Then some diehard would come running from a
public screen, shouting, "Hoy! Kaufmann's Planet just popped
in from Sunmother's TPs!" and fans would run into the bars
and public viewing areas. Soon they learned to arrive early
when expecting Sunmother's advents. When it was out of
conversion they stayed raptly before the screens unless they
remembered a sudden errand at the betting terminal.
They were rewarded. Sunmother placed first overall
and became the favorite to win the Five-Year Race. Many fans,
not to mention members of the Satana Coalition, went to bed
richer the night the last ships came home from their trials.
Quindarissa was now the captain to beat. The fans
knew that. The crew of Sunmother knew that, jubilantly.
And the other captains knew that.. . .
"Race Inspector," the small man said to Quindy,
presenting his credentials. "Checking to see that all equipment
is regulation."
"Again?" Quindy sighed. "We had one yesterday.
"There's always the chance someone shifted some cassettes
onboard since then, Captain, so we double-scan. First
inspector mighta missed something."
"Uh. Come onboard. I'm going with you though to
make sure you don't forget anything. I'd rather not have to be
awakened the night before the Race because you want to do
this again."
She stood aside from the hatchway of Sunmother at
the ship's end of the umbilical tunnel that connected the craft
with Kobastation.
The visit to Kalahari had been Quindy's only ground
leave in many jumps. After the publicity of being merely an
entrant let alone the favorite she had decided to forgo
another leave and stay onboard while the rest of the crew
RACE ACROSS THE STARS 137
went planetside. It was her custom in any case. The
threatened attention had simply made the choice easier.
Now she showed her unwelcome visitor around the
ship. He poked under consoles, ran routines on SIPACUM
made systems checks, ticked off lists of spare parts. Finally he
asked that Sunmother's captain open the service panel of the
main drive.
Quindy impatiently popped the stasis locks and
removed the panel. The inspector bent his head into the
opening and began to examine the works.
"Sorry we hafta do this," he said, his voice echoing
hollowly from within. "Had a captain try to sneak in his own
modified gas-filter correlation radiometer one year. Strictly
non-reg."
"I don't see what difference it makes what
equipment's in the double-p," Quindy said. "Sublight is
sublight. It's the converters that count."
"Well mmph you know how, ahh, sticky regs can
be, Captain. Hm. Shoot me that spot-torch from my kit, will
you? Thanks.... Where's your ion flow safety discharge?"
"Top right. Haven't you ever seen an Ihke housing
before?"
"Oh, pos. Not too many. Advanced!"
"Pos. Good ship we've got." Quindy tapped a foot in
boredom.
"There, now just hand me " the inspector began,
swinging an arm toward the opening from within. He broke off
as his wrist hit the edge of the housing wall. A short sharp
tinkle sounded from just within the housing.
"What the vug was that?" Quindy asked.
"Oh, what a grunje!" The man stuck his head out of
the Opening. "Broke the crystal on my wristchron.
"Real glass?" Quindy turned to look.
"Firm. Present from my mother."
138 JOHN CLEVE
"Oh for ... look at this! It's all over the lubeslot! You
want to grind up my drive? Slok!"
He looked nicely contrite. "Sall right. Slot's closed.
Gimme my hand vac and I'll clean it up for you."
"You'd better." Quindy handed him the device.
He disappeared inside with it. Faint humming came
from within, followed by rattles as the glass was sucked up
into the collection chamber. At last the inspector emerged.
"Clean ship, in all senses," he said with a smile. "Sorry
to have troubled you, Captain."
She flipped her fingers. "Have to do your job, I guess.
Sorry about your chron." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]