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in the cockpit. Captain, I'd suggest these hatches be closed." He extended the
hex wrench from his belt to Faquar. "This will handle the nuts for the access
plate." Muerotte nodded to the engineer.
"You wait," said Nathaniel to Sylvia. "In case anyone gets any ideas . . .
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just stun all of us. The ship will hold until I wake up. When the engineers
done, you take the rear position in the cockpit." She nodded.
"You trust few, I see," observed Muerotte as Nathaniel followed the captain
forward.
"So far, this makes the fifth or sixth attempt on us in the last two standard
weeks. That might explain why I'm somewhat skeptical."
"You must know something very dangerous." Muerotte laughed harshly.
"That's the strange part. I'm an economist." Muerotte shook his head again,
then punched the cockpit access stud and the combination.
"Leave it open until the engineer and Sylvia rejoin us."
"As you wish." Muerotte dropped into the vacant pilot's couch.
Nathaniel nodded toward the seconds position. "Move aside, Bousie," ordered
Muerotte. The redheaded second pilot glanced from the captain to the Ecolitan
in greens, then eased aside.
"Over there," suggested Nathaniel. He didn't want anyone behind him. Bousie
complied, if with aslight frown. "If I might . . ." offered Muerotte.
"Go ahead." Nathaniel slid into the second pilot's seat, scanning the
instruments and holding the input set, watching both the second and the
engineer.
Two other figures entered the cockpit, Sylvia the last, stunner still in hand.
The cockpit hatch closed with a dull thunnkk.
"The Ecolitan discovered a rather elaborate set of devices in the drive
chambers. They could not have been placed there since he boarded at Artos. I
suspect the maintenance crew, but that is not the, question. He has suggested
certain precautions. I agree, but I will cross-check his implementation of
those precautions." The captain raised his eyebrows. "I am presuming neither
you nor Faquar had any part in this, since you would have been in the cockpit
when we lost all atmosphere and shields."
Bousie swallowed. Faquar shook his head. Behind them, Sylvia kept the stunner
pointed at the second pilot.
"Now that we have it understood," Nathaniel said, "I'd like to start on
getting us to New Avalon." He slipped on the online input set. The ship
scanned clean.
The jump calculations took another ten units and five for Muerotte to confirm
with a brusque nod.
"Would you announce to the passengers that they should strap in for low grav
and jump?"
"Bousie," ordered the captain. "From the engineer's station." The second bent
toward the small console behind the captain's position.
"We will be approaching the first jump point in less than five units. We will
be going to low-gravity just before jump. Passengers should be firmly strapped
in at this time. Passengers should be firmly strapped in at this time."
"Good," murmured Muerotte.
"Cutting gravs . . . brace yourself. Five to jump." As bis guts floated into
his throat as the gravity dropped to near nothing, Nathaniel kept talking. "We
can do this in two jumps. . . instead of three. . . and we'll arrive two stans
plus ahead of schedule. That should also offset any welcoming arrangements."
Muerotte nodded, slowly. So did Sylvia, braced against the closed hatch that
led to the passenger section, her stunner still on Bousie.
"Lets do it." The Ecolitan swallowed. "Countdown to jump . . . four, three,
two, one . . . jump."
As he touched the jump stud and sent the impulse through the input set, the
entire ship turned inside out, and white was black, and black white . . . for
that eternal moment that seemed endless and yet was over before it began. A
slight shiver, and the Gallia was back in norm space. The screens showed a
solar system, with the normal EDI indications of a technological and populated
area. "Czechos?"
"It checks." Nathaniel avoided wincing at the inadvertent pun, and began
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inputting the figures for the second jump while the power built up.
"EDI buildup at two eight zero," noted Muerotte. "Class two patroller,
insystem only. Probably a lot of power with a fusactor system." That meant no
jumpshifting systems and a lot of torps. He checked the range and closure.
"We'll be clear."
"The Union . . . alliance . . ." the low words came from either Bousie or
Faquar.
"Alliances are only for brief periods of convenience," said Sylvia dryly from
where she was tucked against the closed hatch.
Nathaniel wiped his sweating forehead with the overlarge kerchief, since the
dampness beaded all over his face in null-gee, then rechecked the systems and
power buildup. "Better announce another jump, so that some passenger doesn't
start wandering around."
"Bousie, go ahead," ordered Muerotte. "Less than five units."
"We will be approaching the second jump point in less than five units. We will
remain in low-gravity until after all jumps are complete. Passengers should
remain firmly strapped in at this rime. Passengers should remain firmly
strapped in at this time. Do not unstrap until ship gravity returns to normal.
Do not unstrap until ship gravity returns to normal."
"Good," said Muerotte. "Log that, too. Heavens forbid, if there's a claim, the
warning will help."
Nathaniel nodded, then rescanned the systems as he waited for the sequence to
run.
"Countdown to jump . . . four, three, two, one . . . jump!" Reentry was
normal, and Nathaniel eased the drives to full, ensuring they were stabilized,
before restoring ship grav.
"Smooth," observed Muerotte, "but were plus five on the ecliptic."
"Right. We'll angle down. The dust buildup will be greater at the end, but
we'll get there faster, and not by the normal route." The Ecolitan pointed to
a signal on the EDI screen. "I wonder who that might be. The drive tuning
would say either Hegemony or Fuard-maybe Orknarlian-but it's not Imperial or
Avalonian." Muerotte swallowed.
"Almost cruiser size, just outside the formal system bounds," continued
Nathaniel. "I'd say just about where we would have been. Justifies my faith in
human nature."
"As if you had any left," quipped Sylvia from the rear of the cockpit.
Nathaniel eased from the seat. "Your ship. Captain. We would like to remain
here until you lock in-in case we can provide any additional assistance." The
Ecolitan smiled as Bousie slipped past him and into her couch. "Although we
all hope it's totally unnecessary."
"Shipping headquarters won't be happy."
"They'd have been a lot less happy with no ship at all," pointed out Sylvia.
"Remind them of that."
XXIX
The Legation of the Coordinate of Accord in Camelot was not on Embassy
Boulevard, but a block south, across a narrow street from an unnamed grassy
square. The building itself was of gray stone, three stories high, with a
green tile roof, and golden wood shutters that actually were hung on antique
wrought-iron brackets and could be closed against the driving rains that still
occasionally drenched the temperate capital city of New Avalon.
The parquet-floored foyer held only a single console centered on a green [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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