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runs up to them,shouting:
"Where's Boxey?"
There's a desperation in his voice I've never heard before. A child answers:
"We don't know. He told us to hide in the ships. Hewent on ahead there."
The child points to the front rank of Cylon aircraft.Suddenly a fighter behind us starts throbbing with
power.Ahead of us five ships in the front rank rev up. Apolloruns toward them, Ser 5-9 and I following a
few stepsbehind. As we get near the five ships in front, the hatch ofone of them squeezes open and what
comes out of it butthe kid's daggit-droid! The hatch springs shut behind it, asit scampers up to Apollo,
barking loudly. Apollo seems tounderstand the bloody droid-animal.
"What is it?" I ask Apollo.
"Boxey's in there, I think. He must be, if Muffit was. Inthat ship. It's a ghost ship."
"What's a "
Before I can finish the question, Apollo whirls aroundand starts running toward the ghost ship just as it
beginsto lift off the ground. We're all forced backward by theswirling tornado in its wake.
I'm recovering my balance as Apollo grabs my arm andstarts pulling me toward the nearest Cylon
fighter. All ofthe ghost ships are in the air now. Stopping by the fighter,he turns to Ser 5-9, yells:
"Throw your mountaineering equipment aboard, thenget to Ravashol! Have him send a message to that
shuttlethat Boxey's in one of the ghost ships. Hurry!"
Ser 5-9, reacting immediately, is hurling mountaineer-ing equipment aboard the Cylon ship before
Apollofinishes his orders. First there's his pack, then his ice-ax,then a whole package of pitons he must
have beenhoarding them. Apollo, after dumping his climbingmaterial onto the pile, pulls me onto the
fighter. Ser 5-9'scoil of rope follows me aboard; then the clone turns on his heels and sprints off. He is
surprisingly agile for a big manrunning on an ice surface.
Apollo is busy monkeying with some wires beneath thecontrol panel of the Cylon craft.
"You can really fly one of these things?" I yell.
"In theory."
"In theory! You mean you've never "
"No."
I glance around me. The insides of the ship are weird,all pinwheels and improbably rounded gears, and
other things I can't begin to make out. I turn back and stare atApollo, trying to keep my mouth from
hanging open.
"There," he says, getting up and taking the pilot seat.
"There what?"
"The controls are easy, but they're keyed to imprints ofelectronic wiring inside Cylon gloves. Fixing those
wiresshould inform the monitoring devices that I'm a Cylon."
"Listen, Apollo, you're so alien to me right now, you'rebeginning to look like a Cylon."
He doesn't bother to respond, but fingers a couple ofbuttons and levers. The fighter kicks into action. I
findmyself falling into a copilot seat at the upward thrust ofthe ship.
Above us, I can see a ghost ship in the middle ofblowing up. I glance over at Apollo. The strange
controlsare keeping him busy; he hasn't time to comment. Iwonder what I'm doing here, and why he'd
insisted on shoving me into this ship. His eyes look insane withdesperation. What in bloody Scorpia is he
planning? Ithink I don't want to know.
As we zoom upward, I watch two ghost ships,apparently guided by the fighter that's staying to the rear,
suddenly zero in on the rescue shuttle, one from above, the other from below. The one going after the
shuttle'sunderbelly is knocked out by a pair of vipers, but theother one very nearly succeeds in blowing
up the rescueship. It's stopped by two vipers, who are themselvescaught and destroyed by the
subsequent explosion. Othervipers seem on course to attack the remaining two ghostships.
"No, don't, don't..." Apollo mutters.
Suddenly all the vipers peel away from the shuttle.
"Ser 5-9 got through to Ravashol," Apollo shouts."They know Boxey's in one of those last two ships."
I almost don't want to say it, but I do:
"How do you know Boxey wasn't in one of the shipsthat went down?"
"I've kept track of the markings on the ship he was in.It's the one up there on the right."
I look where he points. That particular ship has left theother one now and is heading right toward the
rescueshuttle. For a moment it looks like it's going to crash rightinto the front of the shuttle, but at the last
moment theshuttle dips and flies under the ghost ship. The ghost shipflies up into the cloud cover. Just
before it enters theclouds, its course is already being redirected by the guidance ship.
"Okay, good," Apollo says. "Whoever's flying theshuttle's an expert. That was precision flying!"
"I'm sure it was. But what good's it going to do? If I getyou right, that Cylon thing's got a warhead and
it's notgoing to stop searching out the
"We're going to have to stop it. We're going to have toget Boxey out of there."
Did I hear what I heard?
"Just how do you propose to
"Tell ya in a flash. Just let me take care of that otherghost ship before it gets the shuttle."
Manipulating the strange controls with a tenseefficiency, Apollo heads for the other ghost ship, which is
now bearing down on the shuttle. The shuttle has justpulled out of its dive, but it manages to veer off
rightwardto evade the attack of the warhead-equipped fighter.Before the ghost ship can have its course
redirectedtoward the shuttle, Apollo dives our ship right at it, then pushes a multilined template in front of
him. Laser fireshoots out from the front of our ship. A few tongues offlame, and the ghost ship is a real
ghost now. I hopeApollo was right about which ship Boxey's in.
The last ghost ship comes back out of the clouds. It's heading directly for the highside of the shuttle. It
looks like there's no chance the rescue ship can get out of theway, but at the last possible moment it
surges forward with a blast of power and the ghost ship goes unsingedthrough its flaming wake. The
ghost ship goes into a deepdive. Apollo mutters:
"No, it can't crash. It can't
It doesn't. The attacker is pulled out and buzzes theground. If Boxey is really in it, he must be having one
hellof a fun ride. That Cylon pilot's showing considerable skills at precision flying by remote.
Apollo turns to me, talks quickly:
"Okay, Croft, it's up to you now."
"Up to me what?"
"Listen and don't interrupt. The climbing stuff, youknow how to use it. Anchor the rope here, and climb
down to the ghost ship, get Boxey out with your fancyequipment. That's it. It's our only chance."
"It's not even a chance, it's
"Do it!"
The desperation in his voice puts an end to it. Sure, I'lldo it, I say to myself even as I start gathering the
equipment, what do I care? I might as well die, too, likeLeda. Even as I contemplate my own death, I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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runs up to them,shouting:
"Where's Boxey?"
There's a desperation in his voice I've never heard before. A child answers:
"We don't know. He told us to hide in the ships. Hewent on ahead there."
The child points to the front rank of Cylon aircraft.Suddenly a fighter behind us starts throbbing with
power.Ahead of us five ships in the front rank rev up. Apolloruns toward them, Ser 5-9 and I following a
few stepsbehind. As we get near the five ships in front, the hatch ofone of them squeezes open and what
comes out of it butthe kid's daggit-droid! The hatch springs shut behind it, asit scampers up to Apollo,
barking loudly. Apollo seems tounderstand the bloody droid-animal.
"What is it?" I ask Apollo.
"Boxey's in there, I think. He must be, if Muffit was. Inthat ship. It's a ghost ship."
"What's a "
Before I can finish the question, Apollo whirls aroundand starts running toward the ghost ship just as it
beginsto lift off the ground. We're all forced backward by theswirling tornado in its wake.
I'm recovering my balance as Apollo grabs my arm andstarts pulling me toward the nearest Cylon
fighter. All ofthe ghost ships are in the air now. Stopping by the fighter,he turns to Ser 5-9, yells:
"Throw your mountaineering equipment aboard, thenget to Ravashol! Have him send a message to that
shuttlethat Boxey's in one of the ghost ships. Hurry!"
Ser 5-9, reacting immediately, is hurling mountaineer-ing equipment aboard the Cylon ship before
Apollofinishes his orders. First there's his pack, then his ice-ax,then a whole package of pitons he must
have beenhoarding them. Apollo, after dumping his climbingmaterial onto the pile, pulls me onto the
fighter. Ser 5-9'scoil of rope follows me aboard; then the clone turns on his heels and sprints off. He is
surprisingly agile for a big manrunning on an ice surface.
Apollo is busy monkeying with some wires beneath thecontrol panel of the Cylon craft.
"You can really fly one of these things?" I yell.
"In theory."
"In theory! You mean you've never "
"No."
I glance around me. The insides of the ship are weird,all pinwheels and improbably rounded gears, and
other things I can't begin to make out. I turn back and stare atApollo, trying to keep my mouth from
hanging open.
"There," he says, getting up and taking the pilot seat.
"There what?"
"The controls are easy, but they're keyed to imprints ofelectronic wiring inside Cylon gloves. Fixing those
wiresshould inform the monitoring devices that I'm a Cylon."
"Listen, Apollo, you're so alien to me right now, you'rebeginning to look like a Cylon."
He doesn't bother to respond, but fingers a couple ofbuttons and levers. The fighter kicks into action. I
findmyself falling into a copilot seat at the upward thrust ofthe ship.
Above us, I can see a ghost ship in the middle ofblowing up. I glance over at Apollo. The strange
controlsare keeping him busy; he hasn't time to comment. Iwonder what I'm doing here, and why he'd
insisted on shoving me into this ship. His eyes look insane withdesperation. What in bloody Scorpia is he
planning? Ithink I don't want to know.
As we zoom upward, I watch two ghost ships,apparently guided by the fighter that's staying to the rear,
suddenly zero in on the rescue shuttle, one from above, the other from below. The one going after the
shuttle'sunderbelly is knocked out by a pair of vipers, but theother one very nearly succeeds in blowing
up the rescueship. It's stopped by two vipers, who are themselvescaught and destroyed by the
subsequent explosion. Othervipers seem on course to attack the remaining two ghostships.
"No, don't, don't..." Apollo mutters.
Suddenly all the vipers peel away from the shuttle.
"Ser 5-9 got through to Ravashol," Apollo shouts."They know Boxey's in one of those last two ships."
I almost don't want to say it, but I do:
"How do you know Boxey wasn't in one of the shipsthat went down?"
"I've kept track of the markings on the ship he was in.It's the one up there on the right."
I look where he points. That particular ship has left theother one now and is heading right toward the
rescueshuttle. For a moment it looks like it's going to crash rightinto the front of the shuttle, but at the last
moment theshuttle dips and flies under the ghost ship. The ghost shipflies up into the cloud cover. Just
before it enters theclouds, its course is already being redirected by the guidance ship.
"Okay, good," Apollo says. "Whoever's flying theshuttle's an expert. That was precision flying!"
"I'm sure it was. But what good's it going to do? If I getyou right, that Cylon thing's got a warhead and
it's notgoing to stop searching out the
"We're going to have to stop it. We're going to have toget Boxey out of there."
Did I hear what I heard?
"Just how do you propose to
"Tell ya in a flash. Just let me take care of that otherghost ship before it gets the shuttle."
Manipulating the strange controls with a tenseefficiency, Apollo heads for the other ghost ship, which is
now bearing down on the shuttle. The shuttle has justpulled out of its dive, but it manages to veer off
rightwardto evade the attack of the warhead-equipped fighter.Before the ghost ship can have its course
redirectedtoward the shuttle, Apollo dives our ship right at it, then pushes a multilined template in front of
him. Laser fireshoots out from the front of our ship. A few tongues offlame, and the ghost ship is a real
ghost now. I hopeApollo was right about which ship Boxey's in.
The last ghost ship comes back out of the clouds. It's heading directly for the highside of the shuttle. It
looks like there's no chance the rescue ship can get out of theway, but at the last possible moment it
surges forward with a blast of power and the ghost ship goes unsingedthrough its flaming wake. The
ghost ship goes into a deepdive. Apollo mutters:
"No, it can't crash. It can't
It doesn't. The attacker is pulled out and buzzes theground. If Boxey is really in it, he must be having one
hellof a fun ride. That Cylon pilot's showing considerable skills at precision flying by remote.
Apollo turns to me, talks quickly:
"Okay, Croft, it's up to you now."
"Up to me what?"
"Listen and don't interrupt. The climbing stuff, youknow how to use it. Anchor the rope here, and climb
down to the ghost ship, get Boxey out with your fancyequipment. That's it. It's our only chance."
"It's not even a chance, it's
"Do it!"
The desperation in his voice puts an end to it. Sure, I'lldo it, I say to myself even as I start gathering the
equipment, what do I care? I might as well die, too, likeLeda. Even as I contemplate my own death, I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]