Part 8 (1/2)
”That's all right,” Kosta a.s.sured him. ”I gather you think it would be a waste of time for me to try and split the ion sh.e.l.ls off the angels.”
”I think so, yes,” the other said with a shrug. ”But I'm hardly the last word on how the universe operates. If Director Podolak gives you the go-ahead, I'd say go ahead.” He glanced at his watch and stood up, giving his chair a shove back toward his own desk. ”As for me, I've got a tissue sample waiting in the bio lab. See you later.”
”Right,” Kosta said as the other pulled open the door. ”Enjoy yourself.”
Gyasi flashed a grin and was gone, closing the door behind him.
Kosta stared at the closed door, a s.h.i.+ver running up his back. Searching for the mechanism, Gyasi had said, that the angels use to alter brain chemistry and neural structure.
To alter brain chemistry and neural structure...
The words seemed to hang there in the silence like some strange and unpleasant smell. Once again, it was back: the whole disturbing question of how Kosta himself was going to avoid being affected by the angels.
Once again, he had no answer.
CHAPTER 10.
With a jerk, Chandris woke to find herself moving.
For a second she lay there in the dark, panic bubbling in her throat as she tried furiously to break through the fog of sleep and confusion. The unfamiliar bed beneath her jolted to the side; and as it did so, the disorientation cleared.
The Gazelle, and the Daviees... and Angelma.s.s.
Twisting around on the narrow cot that took up half the tiny cabin's floor s.p.a.ce, she fumbled in the dark for the light switch. The ceiling went on, a low night-level glow that didn't burn her eyes as she swung her legs out of bed and planted her feet on the icy metal floor. A six o'clock lift, Ornina had said; but the clock built into the computer desk read only four thirty-five. Either Ornina had gotten her wires crossed, or something was wrong.
The Gazelle jerked again. Gritting her teeth, Chandris reached for her new coverall jumpsuit and started pulling it on.
The narrow corridors were silent and night-level dim as she made her way along them toward the front of the s.h.i.+p, occasionally b.u.mping into walls as the Gazelle continued its rocking movement. Amid the occasional creaking of metal she could hear a faint whine, nothing at all like the dull background roar that had been a constant part of life aboard the Xirrus.
Her original goal had been the forward control cabin, but she was barely halfway there when she began to hear traces of what sounded like music over the whine. Following the sound, she came upon an open door spilling light into the corridor. Moving as stealthily as she could on the unstable floor, she eased up to the door and looked inside.
”Well, good morning,” Ornina said, looking up from a mess of disa.s.sembled electronics spread out on a lab table in front of her and throwing Chandris a smile. ”What are you doing-just a second,” she interrupted herself, turning toward the expensive-looking sound system in the corner. ”Music command: volume down two,” she ordered.
The music obediently went softer. ”One of our few luxuries,” Ornina confessed, looking back at Chandris. ”But we both love music, and it's so nice to be able to fiddle with it when both hands are full. Don't just stand there-come on in. What in the world are you doing up this early?”
”I thought something was wrong,” Chandris told her, feeling a little foolish as she stepped into the room. ”We weren't supposed to leave until six, were we?”
”To leave Seraph, yes,” Ornina nodded. ”But we can hardly launch from our service port, now, can we?”
”No, of course not,” Chandris agreed, annoyed that she hadn't figured that out on her own. ”I guess I just a.s.sumed you meant we'd leave the service port at six or so.”
Ornina shook her head, turning back to the equipment spread out in front of her. ”No 'or so' about it,” she said, picking up a tiny block and peering closely at it. ”When s.h.i.+kari launch control gives you a slot, you'd better be on the launch strip at that time and not a minute later. Otherwise, you go to the end of the roster and maybe don't even get off that day. Ach.”
Shaking her head, she handed Chandris the block. ”Be a dear and tell me what the number on this strytram is, will you?”
”Uh...” Chandris frowned at the faded gray printing, wondering uneasily if she was supposed to know what a strytram was. ”It looks like CR 57743. Or maybe CR 57748-the last one's not all there.”
”It's a 48,” Ornina nodded, taking it back. ”It was the 77 I wasn't sure of. Thank you.”
”You're welcome.” Chandris looked around at the other pieces. ”What's all this from, anyway?”
”A Senamaec high-end sampler,” Ornina identified it. ”Our backup, fortunately, or we'd be in trouble. I don't suppose you've ever worked on one before?”
”Afraid not,” Chandris said, forcing her voice to remain casual. The Xirrus's files had never mentioned Senamaec high-end samplers. Belatedly, she was starting to realize that those files hadn't been nearly as complete as she'd thought. ”Where's Mr. Daviee?” she asked, to change the subject.
”Hanan, please,” Ornina chided her gently. ”And I'm Ornina. There's not nearly enough room on a hunters.h.i.+p for unnecessary formalities. Besides, it makes us feel older than either of us likes.”
”Sorry,” Chandris murmured.
”That's all right. To answer your question, he's still in bed. Hopefully still asleep, too-he'll be handling the actual lift, and that's not a job for someone low on sleep.” She glanced up at Chandris. ”You were up pretty late last night, too, weren't you.”
”I was trying to get through all the spec manuals,” Chandris told her. ”There are a lot of things about the Gazelle that I'm not used to.”
”Hunters.h.i.+ps are a unique breed of fish,” Ornina agreed. ”Have to be. You send an ordinary s.h.i.+p into the Angelma.s.s region and you'd fry everything inside it to a crisp. Electromagnetic radiation, particle fluxes, magnetic twist fields-the works. But of course you know all that.”
”Of course,” Chandris murmured, a chill running up her back. Somehow, in all her studying, she'd never run across anything on Angelma.s.s itself. If it was as dangerous as it sounded, she'd better correct that omission, and fast. ”Well, unless you need me, I guess I'll go get some breakfast,” she told Ornina, starting back toward the door.
”Go ahead,” Ornina said. ”But when you're finished, I'd appreciate it if you'd come back and give me a hand here. I want to get this put back together before Hanan wakes up.”
Chandris clenched her teeth. ”Sure,” she said. ”I'll be right back.”
So much for more study time, she groused to herself as she swayed her way back down the jostling corridors. But still, that was more annoying than dangerous. After all, the Daviees had been doing this angel collecting thing for eleven years now. Surely they knew what they were doing.
No matter how bad Angelma.s.s was, she could certainly handle a single trip out there. And a single trip was all she was going to need.
More from curiosity than any other reason, Chandris watched the control cabin chrono as she sat waiting; and at exactly 6:00:02 the Gazelle lifted.
It felt pretty much the way the shuttle launch to the Xirrus had felt, back when she'd first left Uhuru: a mostly smooth sense of movement along the thick concrete strip and up into the sky, with a steady roar of engines coming from behind.
But back then she'd been in a pa.s.senger cabin, without the monitors and displays and the running conversation between Hanan, Ornina, and the controllers... and it was quickly clear that a s.p.a.ce s.h.i.+p launch was more interesting than it felt.
The sound of the engines wasn't just a single roar, for one thing. It was a mixture of several different roars, each coming from a different engine, with only the combination remaining steady. The sky was anything but empty, either: there must have been a hundred other vehicles flying around the area, all of them looking much too close for comfort.
”We're coming up on the launch dish, Chandris,” Ornina announced from her seat. ”Pelvic camera, if you want to watch.”
Chandris s.h.i.+fted her eyes to the display showing the underside of the s.h.i.+p. There it was, or so she a.s.sumed, moving into view as the Gazelle flew over the landscape. It was almost fragile looking, shaped like a giant dinner plate... and looked like it was about to explode.
It really did. From a hundred places around the edge sparks were spitting, and she could see that the dish's surface was s.h.i.+mmering with a haze of light. Beneath the haze, the whole nurking thing seemed to be coming apart- And then, without warning, it was gone. Along with the whole city.
Chandris blinked, eyes flicking between the displays... and gradually it dawned on her that the city was gone because the Gazelle was suddenly way off the ground.
Way off the ground.
”First launch dish lift?”
Chandris turned to find Ornina looking back at her. ”Not really,” she said, wondering uneasily whether it should be her first. There hadn't been a word about launch dishes in the material she'd read aboard the Xirrus, either. Was it something specific to hunters.h.i.+ps? ”First one where I've had a chance to watch what was happening, though,” she added, hoping that would cover all the edges.