Part 11 (2/2)

This time, however, she was unwilling to let Damia out of her sight, letting, instead, the elder two stay with 'Uncle Afra', Afra took the whole situation phlegmatically which irritated the Rowan because it did not irritate him. He even went to the extreme of getting Damia's solemn promise to be extra careful of her mother in her gravid state, a promise which the child carried out faithfully until the Rowan shrieked at her one day as she attempted to serve breakfast in bed. After that Damia became a sullen, dispirited child p.r.o.ne to unprovoked fits of crying.

But a prolonged sulk was not in Damia's nature. Heartened by the solicitous nature of the c.o.o.nies and by Rascal's steadfast loyalty, she took to exploring the nooks and crannies of Callisto Station escorted only by the felines.

She was not 'heard' by anyone as she traipsed about on her great adventures because she had learned of necessity to s.h.i.+eld herself from the Rowan, projecting a totally false image of her surroundings: generally her own room.

So while her ailing mother thought her safely playing at home, she conducted her personal rebellion. She loved the personal safety pods the most. These lined the corridors and subterranean ways of Callisto Station, provided against catastrophic pressure loss. Gaining entrance was easy: she merely walked up to one and the translucent panel slid open. Inside there were marvellous accoutrements: a plush seat with all sorts of computer controls adorning a keypad, a computer ready to aid her in any emergency and room enough for her coven of c.o.o.nies.

Best of all, the computer would carefully and patiently explain every aspect of the capsule until she had it memorized. She would play in these for hours; Damia Queen of s.p.a.ce, Damia s.p.a.ce Police, Damia Rescue Run.

At the end of every game, where c.o.o.nies played medics, pirates, injured and police at her whim, Damia would carefully peer outside her capsule and, the coast clear, quietly exit it, carefully closing the door and observing the green 'A-OK' light. Then, depending on the hour and her hunger, she would either return to the Rowan's quarters or traipse on to the next capsule and the next game.

Her discovery of the cargo cradles at the base of the Tower was an eye-popping revelation. She scrunched herself tight up against the corridor wall, watching in awe as the cradles magically filled and emptied again as cargo was shunted back and forth to the large composite s.h.i.+ps waiting patiently in orbit above for their cargo to be marshalled and the Rowan to push the result off to its destination planet.

Cargo capsules were long and box-like, exactly the same as those used on s.h.i.+ps and trains for surface transport on worlds. Pa.s.senger capsules were different and came in many shapes and sizes. All had airlocks at various strategic locations and most had view panels. But most intriguing to Damia were the personal safety pods which blistered the sides of the larger pa.s.senger transporters.

She was sufficiently sensitive psychically to know that the capsules were being manipulated by various Talents in the Tower. Once, with a thrill of recognition, she felt Afra's sure mental touch as a string of pa.s.senger capsules were separated and landed in individual cradles. Small domes enclosed them and soon maintenance personnel were busy, working around them.

'That Altairian freighter's late!' the Rowan snapped at Afra up in her Tower. The expedient of reducing the gravity on Callisto had eased the weight on her swollen feet but did nothing to alleviate her temper.

Afra turned carefully to face her, eyes showing the strain of his mental manipulations.

'There's a problem in the life support system of the pa.s.senger and crew quarters,' he explained. He closed his eyes in concentration, something he normally did not require and looked back up at her.

'Powers is handling it.

'We're going to blow the whole day's schedule!' the Rowan replied in what was nearly a wail. She directed her frustration solidly at Afra.

'No, we're not.' Brian Ackerman returned steadily, relieving Afra of the brunt of the Rowan's ill-will. 'I've already worked around the problem. I've got a fifteen minute window before things start piling up.' Afra considered that and nodded. 'Should be about '5' right.' He sent a thought to Powers. 'Bill says it'll be tight but he'll push for it.' 'In the meantime, Rowan, while it's not normally your task, if you could pull apart that Procyon composite that'll keep Afra free to st.i.tch together the Altairian.

The Rowan started to protest but Ackerman gave her such a pleading look that she relented. 'Where're the sheets?' 'On two.' The Rowan turned to her second console and, referring to it, commenced to pull the capsules off the Procyon s.h.i.+p Lysis.

The pa.s.senger capsules called to Damia. They screamed of adventure, of far off places, of Damia Star Guard. She glanced backwards at the cats for support, ignored Rascal's counsel of caution, and proceeded boldly forward towards the tunnel leading to the first pa.s.senger capsule.

Bill, Bill, she'll blow a fuse if it's not ready! Ackerman sent privately to the a.s.sistant Supercargo.

Powers' response was laced with strain. We're pus.h.i.+ng it now, Brian.

In the Tower, unseen, Ackerman nodded approvingly.

Just keep it up.

Damia marched unconcerned by techs and maintenance personnel on her way to the pa.s.senger capsule. The cats followed her at a discreet distance, blended into the landscape in the way of all cats.

One of the s.h.i.+pboard personnel looked at her and mistook her for a pa.s.senger 'You'd best get back aboard, little lady,' he told her politely.

'I don't know how,' Damia replied.

The technician took pity on her, no matter that the station personnel were throwing a fit, and led her aboard the pa.s.senger capsule.

'You know your way from here?' he asked, worried that he would lose too much time if he had to search out her parents.

'Oh, yes!' Damia responded, eyeing one of the safety capsules eagerly. Damia s.p.a.ce Guard on a real s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p!

'Have a good journey!' the tech called as he left.

'Thank you, I will!' Damia said as she had heard Tower personnel do so many times. The tech left, shaking his head at the excellent manners of the child.

Quickly, Damia scampered into a personnel capsule, holding the door open long enough for all her feline entourage to enter. When the door closed, the capsule activated.

'Wollen Sie des Hilfr?' the computer asked politely.

'What?' Damia had never encountered any language other than Basic.

'How may I help you?' the computer replied, s.h.i.+fting languages.

'Oh, I know what to do.' The response fell into one of many distressed voice ranges the computer was programmed to detect. It set its System Alert flag. Had the pa.s.senger capsule been attached to the composite s.h.i.+p, a s.h.i.+p-wide alarm would have been sounded. As it was, the circuit was broken and would remain so until the capsule was connected with the s.h.i.+p.

Hurry, Bill, hurry! Ackerman called urgently. Afra must have picked up a bit of spill from his message for the Capellan raised an eyebrow. She's got that s.h.i.+p all put back together again and she's looking for something else to throw!

Done! Powers said proudly. Beside Afra the display board chirped, red lights turned green.

'The Altairian's ready, Rowan,' Afra informed her, mentally casting a call to the generator technicians to prepare for the load.

He glanced at a clock; Powers had left five seconds to spare.

'About b.l.o.o.d.y time!' the Rowan snarled. 'Wait a minute, the s.h.i.+p's not together yet!' I'm taking care of that now, Afra responded calmly.

Privately, however, he was irritated that the Rowan would choose to misinterpret his statement. She knew that he still had to st.i.tch the s.h.i.+p together. He lifted the first capsule from its cradle but paused, there was something familiar about it.

I'll do it! the Rowan snapped waspishly, s.n.a.t.c.hing the capsule brutally from his mental 'hands' 'b.u.mpy ride, Captain,' Ackerman warned on his comm link.

All three capsules were slapped on the stern of the Altairian freighter at once by the Rowan in her temper.

'Ready for boost,' the Rowan announced.

'Red light! Red light!' the captain shouted over his comm link.

But it was too late, the generators rose to a shriek and suddenly Afra!

A terrified voice cried from the void.

Damia! Afra's response was immediate, with a speed he had never needed before, he lurched for the fleeting child, twisting the Rowan's thrust and s.n.a.t.c.hing Damia from the pod.

'Emergency!' Ackerman snapped. 'Kill the generators!' Get that s.h.i.+p back! the Rowan cried, flailing to maintain her grasp on the ma.s.sive freighter.

Afra! Damia wailed.

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