Singularity's Ring (12 page)
Read Singularity's Ring Online
Authors: Paul Melko
I jumped back and helped Strom connect his lifeline.
I said to Meda, “Tell Flora to expect a jerk. Manuel, release the claw attached to Flora’s sled.”
The sled’s hull vibrated as the claw’s motors turned. Flora’s sled drifted away slowly, pulling the slack out of the line, and then stopped with a jiggle. Strom took the winch line from the claw and jumped across the gap. He disappeared around the far side, and all I could see of him was the movement in his line.
“Manuel, pull the winch in slowly,” he said.
Flora’s sled began to rotate. Strom reappeared, clinging to the side of it. We tethered the sleds together again with short lines, aligning the airlocks. Strom entered our airlock, and I the other. I attached another line to the airlock door and passed it to Strom. He looped it around a ring in our airlock and passed it back to me. We began to pull.
“Watch your fingers,” Meda radioed.
Slowly the sleds came together. At one-tenth gee, the sled’s weight was manageable, but its mass remained large. If the sleds rammed, it would be disaster.
The sleds kissed. I surveyed the alignment.
“Lined up. Connect them.”
Bolts slid together with a thunk that echoed in the frame of the airlock. The connector began to fill with air.
The inner door to our sled opened, and I and Strom climbed back up. Moira pulled off my helmet, and I breathed deeply in relief. Thoughts and emotion washed over me, and I was relieved to be with my pod. My back ached from the long minutes of tension. I wasn’t the same alone.
As the door to Flora’s sled opened, Meda crawled down and shook hands with Flora’s interface. Manuel had maneuvered the second claw to clutch the cable just
like the first, and then taken the first off the wire. The railcar attachment was almost in place.
like the first, and then taken the first off the wire. The railcar attachment was almost in place.
The smell of foreign thought and emotion filled the sled. Flora was sharing our air now. We were safe for a good twelve hours, more than enough time to make it back to the station.
Manuel pushed the railcar against the cable, clamped it, and released the claw.
Here we go,
I said.
I said.
The railcar motor started, and the coupled sleds began to move ponderously, slowly. In minutes we were up to full speed, heading straight back to the station. There was no other direction to go.
We had just enough reaction mass to thrust to the sled bay at the top of the station. While we were donning our suits to release the sleds, a swarm of trios came through the bay lock and began pulling them apart.
“Thanks again,” Flora said, as her outer lock slid closed. As I sat in front of the controls, my fingers twitched. All of us were exhausted and empty. But still exhilaration bounced between us. We’d rescued her, and we’d done it on our own. Space was our home, and what more proof than this.
The crew pushed Flora’s sled into the large airlock. They’d work on the broken sled in the pressurized sled bay. I started thrusting the sled toward our normal slot.
“Belay that thrust, Tango-Five-Five,” came a voice over the radio, the station traffic controller. I checked our velocity, and we waited, scarcely sharing a coherent thought.
After a few minutes the crews came back and pushed our sled onto a docking airlock. As we piled out into the station hallway, Aldo was there to greet us.
“You’re off duty and restricted to your quarters and the
galley.” My stomach lurched. No outside duty meant we were cooped up inside, studying.
galley.” My stomach lurched. No outside duty meant we were cooped up inside, studying.
“But—” Meda said.
“It’s Hilton’s orders.” The station commander. We’d had one interview with the gruff woman on arrival and hadn’t seen her since. She’d wanted us there as much as the rest of the space hounds.
Why are we off duty?
I asked.
I asked.
Maybe it’s standard when there’s a space accident,
Moira sent, but more than one of us thought the idea dubious.
Moira sent, but more than one of us thought the idea dubious.
Showers,
Meda sent, deferring all argument.
Meda sent, deferring all argument.
I followed my pod as we pulled downward to our quarters. I wanted nothing more than to clear the smell of vomit off my body. I was spent and knew the pod felt the same way. Mental and physical exhaustion, and this dismissal, this confinement, hurt more than anything.
We waited for two days, only leaving our berth to go to the galley for meals, trying to find the times when no one else was there. But that was impossible in a place as small as the Station. The space hounds just ignored us, the same reaction they’d had for the first three weeks we’d been on station. We saw none of Aldo or Flora. The one person who seemed oblivious to it all was McCorkle; sitting alone, he hailed us in the cafeteria once, but after a quick greeting, we slipped away.
He’s as much of an outcast as we,
Moira sent.
Moira sent.
Why?
I asked, but no one had an answer.
I asked, but no one had an answer.
In our quarters, as our anxiety grew, we studied and sent e-mails to classmates. We used the station near-object telescope to watch the
Consensus
. Scaffolding and cranes surrounded it, and its sleek shape was almost impossible to make out. Five years until it was ready to travel to the Rift. Then two years of travel to Neptune. Then how many years
to explore what was on the far side. All our lives were preparation and waiting.
Consensus
. Scaffolding and cranes surrounded it, and its sleek shape was almost impossible to make out. Five years until it was ready to travel to the Rift. Then two years of travel to Neptune. Then how many years
to explore what was on the far side. All our lives were preparation and waiting.
Finally, the summons came from the station commander, and we pulled up to Hilton’s office.
The commander’s assistant nodded us into the commander’s office, a room no bigger than a sleeping quarters, smelling of thoughts, hard thoughts, and long hours of work.
Hilton arrived ten minutes later, all three of her pushing through us, invading our thought space, and taking a place at her desk. She was a trio of identical, dark-haired women: small, wiry, with a sharp face and dark eyes. She didn’t smile or greet us. One of her logged on to the computer and started working. Another hooked her legs through a strap on the wall and began reading reports. The third picked up a file and opened it.
“Six months of station-keeping reaction mass expended. Two sleds in need of overhaul. Six weeks of work to realign the counterbalance cable. Failure to maintain comm. One trio in the hospital. Twenty klicks of cable that’ll have to be refurbished. Twenty-six sprains and breaks during the jerk. Three hundred hours of experimental work lost. Fifty samples broken. Days and days of lost time doing structural checks.”
Meda opened her mouth.
“Do not interrupt me. Your ‘rescue attempt’ has jeopardized my schedule. You have lost me weeks of effort that I am never going to get back. Weeks. You are unauthorized for space rescue. You are a student. You are on work-study here. I don’t care who your builder is. I don’t care what strings your mentors pulled to put you here. You fucked my station up. Do you hear me? I do not like it one bit.”
Frustration coursed among us. Incoherent, angry thoughts jounced about, but Meda said nothing. Hilton’s eyes fixed on me, and I felt a jolt. It wasn’t polite: looking
at another person’s members when speaking to the interface.
at another person’s members when speaking to the interface.
“This is my fault,” Hilton said, still looking at me. “I should have determined what sort of pod you are, what your
parts
were.”
parts
were.”
What is she saying?
Manuel asked.
Manuel asked.
She’s talking about me,
I sent.
I sent.
“I don’t think—” Meda began.
“That’s apparent and clear,” Hilton interrupted. “You don’t have four good brains among the five of you.” Again, a look at me, and I felt a hot tear streaking down my face.
How does she know?
Strom asked.
Strom asked.
Isn’t it obvious?
I sent, angry.
I sent, angry.
No,
Moira sent.
Moira sent.
No,
Manuel and Meda and Strom added.
Manuel and Meda and Strom added.
Consensus quick and total. I blinked my tears away.
Hilton stared at us for a moment longer, then said, “Speak, if you have something to say for yourself.”
“No one could get to Flora in time,” Meda said. “We had to save her.”
“Aldo was right there. Aldo is certified in sled rescue. You are not.”
“Aldo was on the end of the tether. And he wasn’t moving. And he was five kilometers farther away than we were.”
“And Klada was five klicks closer.”
“He was caught in the falling tether!”
“I can afford to lose a tether. I can’t afford to lose two sleds and two crew members. You made a rash decision and the whole station suffered for it.”
“We saved her.”
Hilton slammed the report down. “L4 has a rescue shuttle that could have reached her in eighteen hours. That would have been eighteen hours of discomfort for Flora. But it also would have meant no impact on my schedules!”
“But—”
She doesn’t know about Flora’s not loading enough air!
Don’t tell her,
I sent. She was so mad, no mitigating factor would slow her down.
I sent. She was so mad, no mitigating factor would slow her down.
“But what?”
Meda glanced at me, then said, “But we didn’t know about the L4 rescue shuttle.”
“No, you didn’t! If you’d taken a minute to think and consult, we wouldn’t have this mess. If you had maintained comm, we could have told you about the rescue shuttle.”
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s only one reason you’re not on the shuttle to Sabah Station, and that’s because of Aldo’s and Flora’s request. You are one step away from flunking this practical. One step away from me sending you back to Earth with your asses in your luggage. As it is you’re off outside duty. You’re assigned to Dr. Buchanan in the biology lab. Dismissed.”
We fumbled out of the office, stunned and silent. I could think of nothing but the fact that we would fly no more. Grounded, useless. Strom guided me gently to our quarters.
A week ground by, full of arachnoid DNA and splices and esoteric designs for better, faster, cheaper cable spiders. We were not even allowed to do genetic manipulation, but rather were put to work testing the tensile strength of the sample cables Dr. Buchanan would milk from each of his subspecies of spider.
We were surprised by a knock on our door.
Meda opened it to Aldo’s somber face.
“Care to join us for dinner?”
No!
I sent. I didn’t want to be around anyone.
I sent. I didn’t want to be around anyone.
Meda glanced at me, then said, “We’re going to eat later, thanks.”
“You’ve been avoiding the busy times in the cafeteria,” Aldo said. “You shouldn’t. But that doesn’t matter since I reserved the private dining room for us.”
“I didn’t know there was a private dining room on the station.”
“There wasn’t until last week. Just got flown in prefabricated. So?”
“Really. We’re okay.”
“I think you should. It’s not just me.”
Meda drew back and the pod touched.
He’s making a gesture.
We should go.
I don’t want to be reminded
—They looked at me; they wanted to go. I finally dropped my reluctance.
—They looked at me; they wanted to go. I finally dropped my reluctance.
“Okay.”
The private dining room was indeed new. A door had been placed in the station wall across from the cafeteria, and it opened onto a beautiful wood-paneled room that could seat eight trios easily, and with a wonderful view of Earth out the window.
To my surprise, a half-dozen space hounds were there, including Flora and Klada, and a few other station workers we knew by sight: all outside-working trios.
“What’s all this?” Meda ask, while we tried to hide the embarrassment pheromones.
“We know what Hilton said,” said Aldo. “And we know what you did.”
“But—”
“There was no way,” Flora said, “a ship from L4 would have reached me in time with my air supply.”
“You did the right thing,” Aldo said. “And you did it better than I could have done it.” He took a small box from his pocket and opened it. “You may not be on outside duty anymore, but you’re still a space hound.”
He leaned forward and clipped a small pin on Meda’s
jumpsuit. His two other podmates attached one on Strom and Moira. Then they did the same to Manuel and me.
jumpsuit. His two other podmates attached one on Strom and Moira. Then they did the same to Manuel and me.
I twisted the pin in my hand; it was the head of spider, running down a cable.
“You latched onto that cable like a real spider,” Aldo explained. I looked at Aldo’s jumpsuits. He had a similar pin, with a sled on it. Flora had a pin with a flower. All the space hounds had pins.
“This is our way of saying thanks,” Flora said.
I felt Strom welling up and knew if the big lug started blubbering there was no hope for the rest of us. I nudged him in the side.
“Enough of that!” Aldo said. “Let’s have some food!”
The space hounds had made a potluck of zero-gee dishes that we passed around, and the pods mingled and chatted, and for the first time since we’d gotten there, we were a part of the station. I couldn’t remember why I’d not wanted to come in the first place.
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