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investments in space, or had them stolen and sold out by corruption, Heimdall had been the key to regaining that position. . . . "Will you try?" she asked. "I'll do what I can," Eliot said. The speaker went dead. Tears welled at the corners of Laurie Jo's eyes, but her voice was firm. "I'll go up there myself with a squad of company police!" Aeneas shook his head. "If things are that bad, they won't even meet your capsule; you can't afford to provoke an open break. Besides, you have to stay here. No one else can control your partners. With you out and away up there you'd certainly lose the station." "Then what will I do?" Page 60 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Aeneas drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was time to repay the Saracens for their hospitality. . . . "Send up Holloway's file, to begin with. Let's see who we're up against." He took out the photographs of Martin Holloway as Laurie Jo began to read. "Five feet eleven inches, 175 pounds, hair brown, eyes green, graduated from-" "It will be lies," Aeneas said. "His name is David Hindler." "You know him?" Laurie Jo asked. Aeneas smiled wistfully. "Long ago. Before Greg was President. You remember that Greg's enemies tried to have him killed. . . . David was very valuable then. He saved my life." And I his; we have no debts to each other. But once there was a bond . . . "Dr. Eliot implies that the Equity Trust is behind your difficulties. David is Greg Tolland's man. He wouldn't kill for anyone else." She said nothing, but there was concern in her eyes; not hatred for Tolland, although that was deserved; but sorrow because she knew the pain Aeneas must now feel. He could never convince himself that Greg Tolland hadn't known. . . . "Have your people make me a space suit and whatever else I'll need," Aeneas said. Hope came to her-then it was gone. "You've never been in space. How can you stay alive there?" "I'm a careful man, Laurie Jo. And I think I see what must be done." "But I just found you again! It isn't fair, not so soon." "I'll be back," he promised. "You've always meant to go out with Valkyrie. How can I go with you without experience? Have you anyone else you can trust with this?" "No." "I'll be back. Soon." Ten gravities for ninety seconds is easily within the tolerance of a healthy man; but Aeneas had no wish to prolong the experience. He was laid flat on his back in a nylon web, encased in baggy reflective coverall and under that a tight garment resembling a diver's wet suit. The neckseal and helmet were uncomfortable, and it was an effort to exhale against the higher pressures in the helmet. He had thought waiting for the launch the most unpleasant experience he'd ever had: lying awkwardly on his back, with no control of his destiny, enclosed in steel; then the laser cut in. He weighed far too much. His guts ached. Like the worst case of indigestion imaginable, he thought. There was no way to estimate the time. He tried counting, but it was too difficult, and he lost count somewhere. Surely he had been at eighty seconds? He started over again. There was noise, the loud, almost musical two-hundred-fifty-cycle tone of the explosions produced as the laser heated the air in the chamber under him- how close? he wondered. That great stabbing beam that could slice through metal aimed directly at him; he squirmed against the high gravity, and the effort was torture. The noises changed. The explosion tone drifted down the scale. He was beyond the atmosphere, and the laser was boiling off material from the thrust chamber, reaching closer and closer to him- Silence. The crushing weight was gone. He was falling endlessly, with no way to know. Was he in orbit? Or was he plunging downward to his doom? He closed his eyes to wait, and then he felt he was truly falling, with the sick sensations of a boat in motion-he opened his eyes again to orient himself in the capsule. Will they pick me up? There was to reason they shouldn't. New crewmen arrived weekly, and he was merely another. He listened for a voice, a signal, anything- "Hullo, laddie. All right in there?" Aeneas grabbed for the microphone and pressed the talk switch. "That was one hell of a ride." He fought for control of his voice. "I think I'm all right Page 61 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html now." "Except that you feel like letting the world's record fart, right?" the voice said. "Go ahead. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Jerry%20Pournelle%20-%20High%20Justi ce.txt (44 of 94) [11/1/2004 12:18:01 AM] file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Jerry%20Pournelle%20-%20High%20Justi ce.txt You'll feel better." He tried it. It helped. "Hang on there, mate. Be alongside in a minute," the voice said. It took less than that. There were clunks and thuds, and the capsule jarred with some impact. "Righto. You're new in this game, they tell me." "Yes, very," Aeneas replied. "Right. So we'll start by testing your suit. I've got a bottle attached to the outlet, crack the atmosphere evac valve a half turn, there's a good chap." A short moment of panic. The capsule held half an atmosphere. When the capsule was evacuated, only his helmet above the neckseal would contain pressure. The tight garment he wore was supposed to reinforce his own skin so that it would be able to hold the pressure differences, and it had worked in the ground training chamber; but there had been physicians waiting there-. Aeneas did as he was told. As the air hissed out, the pressure in his guts returned, but worse. "Fart again, lad. How's the breathing?" "All right." He carried out the instruction. Again it helped. It was hard work to breathe out, but there didn't seem to be any problems. "Good. Open the valve the rest of the way and let's get you out of there." Pumps whirred, and he felt more sensations of internal pressure. The wetsuit [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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