Текст книги "Kobayashi Maru"

Автор книги: Andy Mangels

Соавторы: Michael Martin
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“We can tow you back to one of the drydock facilities at Altair VI in just a few hours, Captain, Burch said.

“And Im to pay for their services with what,Lieutenant? Vance said, sounding angry now that his embarrassing state of financial disarray had at last been laid totally bare. “My credit with the Altair VI port authority is, shall we say, less than sterling at the moment. My cargo is already spoken for, so I cant simply trade it away. Besides, the fine, upstanding citizens of Darro‑Miller will want hard currency, and I wont be flush again until after the Marus current voyage concludes.

“In the state shes in right now, Captain, the Marus voyage is alreadyover, Burch said. “Im sorry.

Though Vance looked deflated, his tendency toward bravado hadnt deserted him entirely. Addressing Archer, he said, “You wouldnt be interested in floating us a temporary loan, would you?

Except for the faint clatter of metal forks against lightweight aerogel plates, a sudden hush blanketed the room. The crewmen and technicians who were eating at the tables along the opposite wall made a show of ignoring the tableau, though they had to have heard every word. Stiles looked like he wanted nothing more than simply to crawl away somewhere and die with whatever slender shreds of dignity remained to him. Mayweather felt intense embarrassment for the first mate, as well as for his captain.

Archer was the first to disturb the extended silence. “Im afraid I cant lend you any money, Captain Vance.

Vance now looked utterly defeated. “Then please dont neglect to scuttle us before you get under way for your next assignment, he said very quietly.

“But since the regs require me to render aid to all vessels in distress, Archer continued, “Ill lend you something more valuable than money: my chief engineer and his staff.

“Sir? Burch said, obviously as surprised as Mayweather was. Reed, Vance, Stiles, and Searles all looked poleaxed as well, and even the two usually impassive MACOs exchanged quiet sidelong glances.

“How much time do you need to get the Kobayashi Maruback under way? Archer asked the engineer.

Burch answered without hesitation. “Forty‑eight hours, max.

“Then get busy, Lieutenant. Give TPol a list of whatever personnel and matйriel you think youre going to need.

“Yes, sir, Burch said, grinning as he contemplated the no doubt unusual challenges that awaited him. Mayweather hoped for his sake that his repair‑time estimates would prove as reliable as those his predecessor used to make. After all, as good as Burch had so far proved himself to be, he wasnt Commander Tucker.

Nobody is at the moment,Mayweather thought with a profound sense of sadness.

After directing Lieutenant Reed and the MACOs to remain aboard to keep an eye on things, Archer moved toward the lounges raised hatchway. “Lets head back to Enterprise,Travis. I want to get this job expedited so we can get back to chasing realpirates just as soon as humanly possible.

“Can never get enough of that,Captain, Mayweather said, grinning as he followed Archer into the corridor that led back to the section of the Kobayashi Maruto which Shuttlepod One was docked. As they walked, he contemplated still more endless hours of patrolling, watching, and waiting. And the interval that would precede the resumption of those monotonous tasks.

Forty‑eight hours. Two days.

Plenty of time to dash off a few handwritten letters home before the Maruresumed her voyage toward Gamma Hydra, and a rendezvous with the Horizon.

SEVEN

Day Thirty, Month of KriBrax Dartha City, Romulus

T HE LIGHTS SUDDENLY WENT OUT, throwing the entire lab into stygian darkness. Trip knew that the facility had its own emergency backup power systemswhich should have kicked in on their own the minute the main power circuits were interruptedso he was immediately suspicious. His pupils struggled to cope with the nights abrupt intrusion.

Though he was still effectively blinded, his artificially pointed ears nevertheless identified the nearby sound of metal clicking against metal.

A disruptor pistols safety catch.

“Ehrehin, get down! Trip shouted.

In the same breath, he tackled the elderly scientist, hoping that the more‑than‑human strength inherent to Vulcans and their genetic offshoots would keep the old man from suffering a bad fracture when he hit the floor.

Breaking a hip is still a lot better than taking a disruptor blast,he thought as both mens bodies slammed against the unyielding tile floor behind one of the labs massive bookcases. The transitory brilliance of an energy blast singed the hairs on Trips neck in the split second before hed moved out of the immediate line of fire.

That wasway too close,he thought amid the acrid stench of ozone and fear. He struggled to catch his breath and get his bearings.

“Cunaehr! The old man could barely wheeze Trips Romulan cover name, his lungs just having been forcibly and suddenly emptied. But at least he had eluded the assassins disruptor beam.

For the moment, at least.

“Stay down, Doctor, Trip whispered. “And keep quiet. He hauled himself up onto his elbows, cautiously surveying what little he could see of the labs work area in an attempt to pinpoint the would‑be killers location.

Then he heard the gentle rustle of something moving beyond the sturdy desk behind which he and the old man had taken refuge. The sound seemed to have come from somewhere near the labs rear exit. Another muffled noise came from the opposite side of the room. Though his heart raced like a reactor core about to go critical, Trip tried to remain absolutely still.

Shit. At least two of em are in here with us.

“Are you armed, Cunaehr? Ehrehin said quietly, a fearful quaver in his voice.

“Dont talk anymore, Trip whispered back, ignoring the question. Though he didnt, in fact, have an effective weapon within handy reach, he didnt want to admit it out loud. Keeping the bad guys guessing about things like that was always the best policy in this sort of situation.

“Stay here, Trip whispered directly into Ehrehins ear. Despite the darkness, he was close enough to Ehrehin to see that the old man was beside himself, owl‑eyed with commingled fear and outrage.

Trip heard another noise coming from the front of the lab, the direction from which the disruptor bolt had originated. Someones feet moved slowly and stealthily forward. No one was visible as yet behind the farrago of tables, desks, bookcases, and computer terminals scattered about the room, so the shooter had to be crouching, keeping his profile low.

Taking his cue from the intruders, Trip slowlyand quietlycombat‑crawled toward the source of the intermittent sound before him. A moment later, another disruptor blast cleaved the air above him, at perhaps chest level.

Trip grinned as he imagined a pairhe hoped it was only a pairof assassins, hunkered down on the floor much as he was, at opposite sides of the lab. They dont know exactly where to shoot just yet. And they have to fire high to protect each other.He wondered whether the assassins tactics implied that they lacked night‑vision equipment, or were merely displaying an overabundance of caution.

As he inched forward toward the edge of a storage cabinet, Trips hand brushed against a padd that hed evidently knocked to the floor when hed tackled Ehrehin. He picked it up and felt its reassuring heft. It was solid, square, and not too badly balanced. Taking care to remain silent, Trip rose to a crouch, clutching the little device nearly hard enough to shatter it.

More motion, this time coming from the right side in his peripheral vision. Without thinking, he turned and hurled the padd with every ounce of strength he could muster. Moving from a crouch to a full run, he wasted no time chasing the object hed thrown, shouting as he executed a flying tackle on the source of the movement.

He landed hard and found himself lying directly atop a supine humanoid bodyone that was very much alive and struggling. As he tried to grab and restrain his assailants wrists, he realized his adversary was female.

And as strong as the proverbial ox.

The Romulan woman sat up abruptly in spite of his strenuous attempt to pin her shoulders to the floor, and forced him relentlessly sideways and onto his back. Hot liquid dripped from her face onto his. He realized it was most likely blood; the missile hed thrown must have split her lip open, or perhaps clipped her in some other part of the head or face. Just nowhere near hard enough,he thought as she kept pushing him steadily backward and downward in spite of his best efforts to push in the opposite direction.

The rooms scant illumination gleamed at the threshold of visibility against the disruptor pistol she still clutched in her right handand whose barrel he saw she was trying to point directly at his head. His arms trembled with exertion as he tried to push back against her and keep the weapon away, succeeding only in slowing its inexorable progress toward him. He remembered his bureau colleague, a deep cover field agent named Tinh Hoc Phuong, whod been killed elsewhere in Romulan space by a blast from a nearly identical weapon. He forced that horrific recollection aside with an absurd transient thought about TPol, and how much fun an encounter like this might be in an entirely different context. If, that is, he ever got to see her again.

Trip felt as though he were in an arm‑wrestling contest with a piece of farm machinery. His biceps, triceps, and forearms quivered as fatigue toxins began to accumulate in his tissues. He knew he was getting tired out. And that she wasnt. Though he probably outweighed her by more than a few kilos, she nevertheless seemed to be at least marginally stronger than he was, no matter how much effort he expended. And in terms of endurance she appeared to have him flat‑out beaten. He was uncomfortably aware that even the most marginal advantage in a contest like this could end it quickly and decisively in favor of the least exhausted opponent.

Unless he changed the rules of the game, and damned quickly.

A number of small, hard objects clattered to the labs floor, presumably after having fallen from some pocket in the womans dark, formfitting garment. Taking full advantage of the momentary distraction, Trip suddenly stopped resisting her efforts to push him backward. Her disruptor hand swung directly toward Trips face, overshooting it before she could press the trigger even as both combatants abruptly crashed to the floor.

He exploited her surprised state further by delivering a savage head butt. She dropped her weapon, though he couldnt immediately see where it had fallen. He breathed a silent “thank you to Adigeon Primes avian plastic surgeons for the durable cranial implants theyd installed in his forehead when theyd altered his appearance to enable him to pass as a Romulan.

The woman shook her head, dazed, but nevertheless tried to get her feet back under her. Rising to a crouch, Trip responded with a rabbit punch and a hard right cross in rapid succession, both of which landed squarely upon the Romulan womans face.

She fell back to the floor hard, apparently unconscious.

Trip knelt to feel about on the floor for the womans fallen disruptor, but found only a handful of data chips, apparently the objects she had dropped just before losing her weapon.

These two didnt come here just to kill Ehrehin,he thought, realization dawning on him. They wanted to steal Ehrehins files after getting rid of us.

But there was no time at the moment to consider their assailants motivations, or on whose behalf they might be acting. He groped about the dark floor for a few agonizingly long moments until he found the assassins pistol, which he immediately snatched up and brought before him in a two‑handed combat grip.

The other one isnt on top of me already,Trip thought. Which has to mean that hedoesnt have night‑sight gear, same as his partner.

Which also meant that these people most likely werent career military personnel. They were acting on behalf of passion or politics, or perhaps simple greed.

Trip heard the sibilance of another disruptor blast, accompanied by a momentary nimbus of light that originated from the opposite side of the room. He caught sight of the shooters silhouette and took aim just as another searing bolt of energy tore through the cabinet beside him, reducing it to a collapsing heap of burning shards. He hit the floor in a diving shoulder roll, hanging on to the disruptor pistol like the precious lifeline it had become. He rolled up into a crouch and kicked over one of the worktables before him, sending a computer terminal and several stacks of paper flying. He immediately opened fire from behind the cover hed just created.

Trips weapon illuminated the room just long enough to confirm that he had indeed hit his target, taking the shooter full in the chest. He ran to a control pad that was mounted on a nearby wall and quickly activated the labs emergency backup lights.

A voice croaked weakly from somewhere behind him, down low. “Cunaehr.

“Sit tight, Doctor, Trip said as he hastened to disarm both attackers, confirming their condition in the process. The man hed just shot sported a disruptor burn that had thoroughly cooked every organ in his chest, killing him instantly. Damn these bastards for not believing in the “stun setting,he thought, not for the first time since his arrival in Romulan space. Although he knew full well that the gunman had left him little choice, he nevertheless couldnt deny the guilt he felt in situations like this one.

The woman, however, was only unconscious, not dead.

“Cunaehr, Ehrehin repeated, far more weakly this time. Trip rushed to the old mans side.

“Youre going to be all right, Doctor, Trip said as he knelt on the debris‑littered floor not far from the spot where hed left Ehrehin. He blanched as he noted that the old man was anything butall right, but he did his best not to display his feelings of shock and fear.

“Im sorry, Cunaehr, Ehrehin said, wincing as he cradled the badly burned right side of his torso. “Im afraid I didnt follow your advice about staying down. I got up to trigger the silent security alarm.

Trip tucked the disruptor into his belt. Very gently, he helped the old man into a more comfortable‑looking, half‑reclined position up against the leg of one of the lab tables. Ehrehins charred tunic was stained emerald with blood.

“Ill call for the medics, Doctor, Trip said, rising to his feet.

“Theyll never get here in time, Ehrehin said, shaking his head and coughing. Sea‑green froth bubbled at his lips. “Promise me something, Cunaehr.

Trip knelt again beside the old man and took his frail hand in a gentle two‑handed grip. “Anything.

“Dont let Valdore finish this project.

Tears stung Trips eyes. “Of course.

“And you cant let the Ejhoi Ormiinhave it, either.

Trip frowned. The Ejhoi Ormiinwas the Romulan dissident group from which Trip had recently helped rescue Ehrehin. Phuong had died on that mission. The Ejhoi Ormiinwanted to prevent Admiral Valdore from indulging in his imperial ambitions by stealing the warp‑seven drive project that Ehrehin had undertaken on behalf of the Romulan military.

The only problem with the dissidents plan was that they intended to keep the secrets of the revolutionary new stardrive for themselvespresumably to fulfill their ownimperial ambitions. And what those ambitions were was anybodys guess, given that their leader was a murderous Vulcan turncoat known alternatively as Sopek or Chuihv.

“You think the Ejhoi Ormiinhad something to do with this? Trip asked.

“Who else? The voice was barely audible.

Trip had to admit that that was a damned fine question, one to which he could provide no easy answer.

The life was beginning to fade from the old mans rheumy eyes. “Cunaehr, he whispered. “Trip.

The old man had made it his habit neverto use Trips real name, even though he had discovered it very early in their association.

“Yes, Trip said.

“Everythingeverything is up to you now.

Trip felt Ehrehins hand go slack at that moment. The old mans final breath came a heartbeat later, laced with green bubbles as his lungs emptied for the last time.

A crushing weight of responsibility settled squarely upon Trips shoulders. Whether war or peace came in the next few weeks might well depend on whatever he decided to do, or not to do, next.

Moving with extreme care, Trip lowered Ehrehins body back to the floor from where it leaned limply against the table leg. Tears shrouded the old mans image as he knelt beside him and took his hand for the last time. They had indeed become close, particularly since Ehrehin had saved his life at the Ejhoi Ormiincompound on Rator II, and had helped him find a place in Romulan society after their chaotic escape. The old mans motivations had never been entirely clear to TripEhrehin was certainly no Coalition sympathizer, despite his strong advocacy for peacebut Trips resemblance to the late Cunaehr might have been a factor. As well as Ehrehins respect for Trips talents as an engineer.

After an uncountable interval, Trip released Ehrehins hand. Anger brought him to his feet and he stalked back to the front of the lab, where the surviving assassin still lay unconscious. Reaching down to grasp the lapels on the front of her black jacket, he hauled her up roughly.

“Why did you do this? he shouted into her slack face. “Who do you work for? She made no response, and her body lolled before him like a rag doll. Dark green blood slowly trickled down her lightly ridged forehead, which sported a nasty gash, as well as from her split lower lip. He saw that she was still breathing and briefly considered remedying that before dismissing the thought in horrified disgust.

Crap. Maybe Iam going native,he thought with an inward shudder.

The labs front and rear doors suddenly crashed open nearly simultaneously, admitting at least half a dozen uniformed and helmeted Romulan military troopers, each of whom carried disruptor pistols, several of which were being pointed directly at Trip.

“This woman is a saboteur, Trip said, suddenly feeling oddly detached both from his emotions and his body. Numbly, he realized that this must be what pure shock feels like. “Shes still alive, he continued. “Her partner murdered Doctor Ehrehin. I had to kill the shooter, or he wouldve burned me down next.

One of the soldiers who had evidently come in through the rear of the lab shouted a terse confirmation of Trips report. Then another one, a broad‑shouldered, dour‑faced man whose uniform baldric bore the single wedge‑shaped insignia that denoted the rank of centurion, separated himself from his fellows and approached Trip closely.

“Set the woman down, he said in a deep and dangerous‑sounding voice. “Carefully.

Despite the weapons that were directed at him, and the centurions obvious authority, Trip was unimpressed. He continued clutching the front of the unconscious womans garment in both hands. “Just who the hell are you? he demanded.

The centurions tone was surprisingly patient. “Terix. Centurion of Admiral Valdores Fifth Legion, in the service of our glorious Praetor Dderidex. And just who in Erebus are you?

Trip began to realize that he was not only in a crime scene, but also that he was challenging a phalanx of armed and perhaps trigger‑happy Romulan military personnel, none of whom had reason to deal gently with defiance or disrespect. And he was doing all this while operating behind enemy lines under an assumed identity.

Stupid,he told himself.

“Cunaehr, Trip said quietly, having regained enough presence of mind to avoid blurting out his real name. “Doctor Ehrehins chief assistant.

Terix laid a large gauntleted hand on Trips shoulder, the apparent gentleness of the gesture only barely concealing a grip of hard, cold steel. “We will take charge of thisperpetrator now, Cunaehr, the centurion said.

“I think this woman and her partner were working for the Ejhoi Ormiin,Trip said, not yet quite able to will his arms to move or his hands to open. “They wanted to take for themselves the new stardrive weve been developing for Admiral Valdore. And they wanted to make sure that Doctor Ehrehin couldnt re‑create it later.

Trip realized that they had succeeded, at least, in the latter goal. It also dawned on him that they had accomplished one of the objectives of the bureau that had sent him here to Romulus, using means that probably wouldnt have much bothered the spymaster Harris, and probably would have made Captain Stillwell do a football quarterbacks end‑zone victory dance.

Except, of course, for the fact that Trip hadnt managed to seize a working warp‑seven drive for Earth and the Coalition. Without the brilliance of Doctor Ehrehin on tap, the likelihood of that eventuality coming to pass now seemed vanishingly small, his own engineering skills notwithstanding; while Trip had tremendous faith in his own abilities, he harbored no delusions of being Ehrehins peer.

“Let ustake charge of the prisoner now, Cunaehr, Terix repeated. “We will interrogate her thoroughly about her ties to any political dissident groups. Although Trip still could hear something like compassion and sympathy in Terixs voice, the centurions grip on his shoulder felt progressively more stern with each passing second.

Trip nodded, then allowed a pair of Terixs troopers to take the unconscious woman from his nerveless hands.

“Do not worry, Terix said as the troopers carried the woman away and began securing the room as a crime scene. “You may continue Doctor Ehrehins work secure in the knowledge that he will be avenged.

Continue Ehrehins work,Trip thought, aghast but trying desperately not to show it. Work that Admiral Valdore expects to produce a working warp‑seven stardrive soon. So that Praetor Dderidex can grab even more new elbow room for his galactic empire.

Trip Tucker had never before felt more alone and isolated than he did at this very moment. Only now was he beginning to understand, in a deep, visceral way, just how dependent he had become upon Ehrehin, not only for the accomplishment of his mission on behalf of Earth and the Coalition, but also for simple survival in such a strange, faraway land.

Long before he had allowed circumstance to sweep him into the spy trade, all Trip had ever wanted to do was to be an engineer. For the first time in his career, he wished hed never picked up a tool, never gone into space, served on a starship, or so much as laid eyes on the Starfleet Charter.

Particularly Article Fourteen, Section Thirty‑one.

Day Thirty, Month of KriBrax The Hall of State, Dartha, Romulus

The intercom on the desk buzzed in a broken tone that denoted an incoming communication from a particular source. Chief Technologist Nijil placed the secured privacy earpiece carefully into his right ear before opening up the channel.

“Go ahead.

“The deed has been done,said the deep but flat voice on the lines other end.

A triumphant smile slowly began to spread across Nijils vulpine features.

“There has, however,the voice continued guardedly, “been a slight complication.

EIGHT

Tuesday, July 15, 2155 E.C.S. Horizon, Gamma Hydra Sector

P AUL M AYWEATHER HEARDthe noise of the creaking deck plates behind him as it rose slightly above the background buzz of the ancient freighters computers and air‑circulation fans. Turning toward the familiar sound, he watched as his mother and chief engineer, Rianna Mayweather, approached the middle of the aft section of the small hexagonal bridge that she had always insisted on describing as “cozy rather than “cramped.

Gesturing toward the image of the uncannily Earth‑like globe that turned slowly on the bridges large forward viewer, she said, “The people down there really surprised me.

“Im just happy they turned out to be friendly and willing to deal with us, Paul said.

Rianna nodded. “Of course. But isnt it amazing how quickly they picked up English?

“I thought that was pretty remarkable, too, said Charlie Nichols, who seemed delighted to be back behind his helm console after his brief sojourn dirtside. He looked happy to hear that the last few repairs had finally been completed, no doubt because he was raring to perpetrate yet another one of the sudden, kidney‑damaging lurches directly from space‑normal speed to warp two for which he was so renowned.

Paul nodded silently in response to the observations of his mother and the helmsman before facing forward again to study the stately turning of the blue‑and‑white‑streaked world on which he and the Horizons crew had just completed the bulk of their emergency repairs. He had to admit that the natives facility for languages was remarkable, if indeed they had been telling the truth about never before having played host to a visiting Earth vessel.

But even more remarkable was the lucky happenstance that this worlds barely industrial‑age inhabitants had been able to furnish sufficient supplies of the metals and organic polymer precursors necessary to allow Mom, Nora, and Juan to get the Horizons propulsion system up and running again after that damned micrometeoroid swarm had crippled the Horizons aging Bussard collectors and navigational deflectors.

Juan Marquez and Nora Melchior, who served in the freighters small merchant crew as junior engineer and Jill‑of‑all‑trades respectively, were in the process of replacing a burned‑out navigation sensor module in one of the starboard consoles. Although theyd seemed utterly absorbed in their work, they both evidently had been following the desultory conversation every bit as closely as Paul had done.

“Ill grant you that theyre quick learners, Nora said, grunting as she strained to free a slightly balky hydrospanner from the awkward tight space between consoles into which shed gotten it stuck. “But none of the natives I dealt with seemed all that big on original thinking.

“I dont know about that, Juan said. Paul quietly watched as the junior engineer looked askance at Noras handling of the spanner, as though expecting it to come flying out at any moment, like Excalibur suddenly freed from the stone. “Sure, they seemed a bit imitative, but that probably just reflects their method of absorbing new languages.

Nora grimaced as she put more of her weight into the task of trying to extract the spanner from where it had become lodged. “Maybe, she said. “Maybe not. It might be fun to come back here in twenty years, she said, pausing momentarily to grunt with another burst of futile effort to extract the spanner, “to see if theyve started trying to build their own J‑type interstellar freighters.

Rianna folded her arms and shook her head skeptically. “Theyre still trying to get a handle on steam technology, Nora. I wouldnt expect them to get anything off the ground for at least another hundred years or so.

“Probably true, Juan said, his dark eyes still riveted to Noras trapped spanner. “Careful with that thing, Nora, he said, his expression showing vicarious pain for the abused tool. “Youre gonna break it if youre not careful.

“Helping is good, Juan, Nora said, scowling slightly as she continued fruitlessly coaxing the stubborn instrument. Her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she worked. “Kibitzing, not so much.

Juan shrugged and looked toward Paul and Rianna, perhaps to avert his eyes from Noras flagrant abuse of the innocent spanner. “Anyhow, the natives really didnt seem nearly as interested in that sort of thing as they were in the cultural stuff, anyway.

Paul couldnt help but agree with Juan, though he thought that Nora definitely had a point as well. In fact, he had already characterized the natives as very bright and imitative people in the log he had recorded for later transmission to Earth Cargo Service Central. Even in the merchant service, which arguably made more of an imprint on the galactic neighborhood than did Starfleet, detailed reports about all first contact situations were a regulation‑required necessity. It made no sense to allow the next Earth ship that happened by this world to rediscover these people purely by accident.

“Im still just happy that they seemed so eager to help out a bunch of stranded strangers, Paul said. Had the Horizonbeen forced down in more hostile surroundings, the outcome of their just‑concluded adventure might have turned out far less happily.

“Dont forget that they expected to be paid for the stuff we needed, said Rianna, her gaze locked on her younger sons. “I think their cultural leanings saved our asses at least as much as their sense of altruism. Were just damned lucky they were willing to accept some of the stuff we were carrying in the hold. What exactly did you give them, anyway?

Paul chuckled quietly. “A few of the vintage amusement items from Earth that I was hoping would pay most of the bills during that stopover we have coming up at Denobula Triaxa.

Riannas eyes narrowed. “Which vintage amusement items are you talking about? she asked in a voice that seemed to lower the ambient temperature by at least a good two degrees Celsius. Paul could only hope that he hadnt accidentally traded away any of Moms favorite nifties in his haste to acquire the materials the crew needed to get the Horizonback under way.

He concentrated for a moment, staring off at a bulkhead as he assembled a brief mental inventory. “Analog music recordings pressed on vinyl disks, he said sheepishly. “Along with a couple of old hand‑cranked players. Some flatvid movies recorded on celluloid, and a projector. A mechanical arcade game I think they used to call a pinball machine. Oh, and a couple of boxes of books.

Her eyes narrowed further still. “ Whichbooks? she said, her tone evoking childhood memories of the moments immediately preceding the occasional “time outs hed had to spend alone in one of the empty cargo holds.

Wait a minute now,he told himself. Since Dad died, shesmy chief engineer. Which makes meher captain.It was damned difficult to remember that at times like this.

Paul felt nothing but gratitude for Noras spanner when it chose that moment to come free, its gripping surfaces apparently shattering in the process.