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would like to know what they plan to do with this information and how Markel thinks he's going to stall them- because I know what that look in your eyes means, kid," he said, ruffling the top ofMarkel's head. "Nueva was just going to send someone through that bis tube, which would have been a fine game of hide-and-seek in this maze. We could've run the searchers ragged," Markel reported. "Then Sengrat suggested they should use gas. He's still underestimating me." Even as he spoke, he was rooting through yet another hiding place and came out with one hand clasping breathing masks and the other emergency oxygen bottles. Acorna smiled. "We won't need those." Johnny shot Acorna a wondering look. "She is Ki-lin," murmured Dr. Hoa, who had awakened during Markel's excited report. "Her horn purifies water and air and heals. Does it not, most gracious lady Ki-lin?" "I am not Ki-lin, Dr. Hoa, but the rest of it is accurate," she said. "See? She has healed my hands and arms from what they did to me." The scientist shoved one sleeve up to show a slightly wrinkled but healthy forearm with a few patches of paler skin replacing the deep bums. "And the rest of me, too," he said with some surprise as he realized he could sit up and move without pain. "And my knuckles," Markel said, eyes wide as he finally noticed. "My knees don't hurt either, nor my back." He looked at Calum accusingly. "Hey-you did get scraped bad, getting through that vent hole, didn't you? And tried to persuade me I'd been imagining it, when the truth is Acorna healed you?" "We thought it might be hard for you to accept," Calum said. "Some people don't believe. ..." Markel looked reverently at Acorna. "Even with a demonstration? What an asset for our side! They're never going to get their hands on you, lady. Not while I can still breathe." "I'll see that's a long, long time," Acorna said. Then Market pressed the earpiece and held up a hand to stop any further talk. "Yes, that's what they're going to do. Ximena is small enough to make a search once the air has cleared up." His face clouded over. "She doesn't want to ... I thought maybe she wasn't as bad as the rest of them . . . but she doesn't care about what happens to us, she's just afraid I'll survive the gas somehow and go after her in the tunnels. I couldn't hurt her," he said sadly, "not Ximena, no matter what she's done. I thought she would know that much, at least." "Well, let's not wait to meet her," Johnny said, changing the subject briskly before Markel's emotions could overpower him. "Markel, can you get us from here to the hangar deck?" He a-lanced at Calum. "I'm thinking that your ship would make a better command center than this tunnel . . . we could send our messages for sure, and maybe even get clean away if Markel can disable the Haven's grapples." "No problem! Can't you see, we're already at Red 32 x Blue 16, all we have to do is take a side route through Blue 16-24 and cut across at the intersection of Green 48 ... well, never mind," Market slowed down as he sensed the bafflement of his companions. "I'm just a simple techno-nerd," Johnny said. "I don't happen to keep a 3-D color map of the ship's maintenance tunnels in my memory." "It's real easy," Markel said. "I'll tell you all about it when we have time." "That," Johnny said hollowly, "is exactly what I'm afraid of." "Huh?" "Never mind!" Johnny gave Markel a friendly push. "Get going, 0 friendly native guide. Lets hit the road ... or rather," as Johnny caught Markel's startled look of warning, "let us make noiseless progress away. Do we need anything you have stashed here, Markel?" Page 68 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "Water?" Markel took down the fabric that had held the water bottles to the wall and it folded out into a sleeveless tunic, the water supplies on the back of it. "Ration bars. My headset. These ... no, too heavy... but I gotta have these," he mused over a collection of tools, rapidly making his selection. He stuffed the necessary items into another backpack, draping thermal covers over everyone's shoulders, even Dr. Hoa's, and then, lifting up a corner of the tube wall, shoved whatever remained into the opening. It took a few hard pushes to get the opening to resume its normal shape. The area was back to normal. Markel had left no signs of his presence. "This way, now," he said, pointing before he took Dr. Hoas hand. Later Acorna would wonder how they had managed that exodus. The healing properties of her horn were prodigious, as well as its air-purifying abilities; but the constant effort of making the air around them breathable eventually exhausted even her. And there were other problems. They did not have the luxury of sticking to the "safe" routes Markel had mapped out for himself; now they had to follow the passageways that held least risk of detection or offered the shortest path to the hangar. Some of the walls they crept through felt cold, others almost unbearably hot and, over one section-the coil to main drive-Acorna went from one member of their group to another, to heal blistered knees, hands, and other portions of their anatomies they could not keep from touching the hot metal. "Lousy insulation," Johnny muttered, as Acorna laid her horn up and down his thigh where the material of his pant leg had been seared away. They rested every time they reached a double tube crossing because there Acorna and Johnny could stand upright and ease their backs. "You do know where you're taking us, young'un?" Johnny asked. "I told you, Johnny Greene, I know this ship like no one else, First or Second Generation. What's the matter, can't you take the heat?" Markel asked so fiercely that Johnny held up his hands in mock self-defense. "Lay on, Macduff," the spacer said with a smothered laugh, "and damned be he who first cries Hold, Enough! That is," he added, "if you and Dr. Hoa can manage, Acorna? " Acorna wanted nothing more than to be through with this claustrophobic journey. She fervently assured Johnny and Markel that there was no need to slow down on her behalf. Markel had indeed known exactly where he was taking them, a storage room for tools on the hangar deck itself. Through the grill on the narrow window, they could even see the Aca3ecki, clamped tight to the deck but still in front of the other smaller vessels that were part of the Haven's force. "And that is their first mistake," Markel said with great satisfaction. As if he hadn't been crawling for days through narrow tubes and inspection conduits, Markel made space on the worktable and started plugging his equipment into some of the power-tool sockets. Everyone else flopped down, exhausted, on the metal floor. Acorna was certain she would retain the honeycomb pattern of the room's floor on the tender parts other anatomy, but it was worth it to stretch out at last. The cramped journey through the tunnels had tried her sorely; for once she envied Calum his lack of inches. "Ha! They haven't found anything, and it's going to take them days to inspect the entire network," Market said. He rubbed his hands together and glanced in the direction of the AcaSeckl. He tried to peer in other directions, but his view was restricted. "Ooops." He pulled back as if someone could have seen his face in the window. "Guards." He peeked out again. "No more than three that I can see. There're usually ten or twelve on hangar duty." Gleefully he washed his hands. "We really have them running up their own . . . sorry." Markel caught himself at Johnny's sharp nudge and shot a quick apology in Acornas direction. "But that doesn't get us out of here." "If we could get to the AcaSecki and power up," Calum asked Markel, "could you Page 69 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html patch into the Havens command centers from there and disable their communications and other systems?" "Nothing to it," Market nodded, preening a little. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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