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Pegasus In Space Part 20

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Three days later, he awoke to see a message flas.h.i.+ng on the monitor. It was from the admiral's office and indicated that a personnel carrier had to be 'ported to Padrugoi at 0845. He must have been sleeping very soundly to miss the bleep of incoming mail.

Johnny?

Join me for breakfast. His mental tone indicated he did not wish to engage in further discussion at the moment. Like many people, he was more sociable after several cups of coffee. His mental tone indicated he did not wish to engage in further discussion at the moment. Like many people, he was more sociable after several cups of coffee. We got time. We got time.

Not much, Peter thought, seeing the screen clock registered 0815.

Why didn't you wake me?



I had enough trouble waking me. I'd've thought the bleep would have rise-and-s.h.i.+ned you.

When Peter reached the officers' mess, Johnny was already seated at a corner table in an almost empty room. The steward bustled over to settle the new arrival, promptly serving the herbal tea that Peter preferred. The general went on getting coffee inside him and nodded a welcome.

I needed that, Johnny said, with a sigh of repletion as he finished the cup and beckoned the steward for a refill. Johnny said, with a sigh of repletion as he finished the cup and beckoned the steward for a refill.

What's the matter? Peter asked. Peter asked.

You're not prescient.

You're procrastinating.

Well, I'll give you time to have some of that swill of yours before I totally ruin your breakfast, Johnny replied with a wry grin. Johnny replied with a wry grin.

It's that bad?

Ah. Depends on how you look at it, Johnny said with the sort of shrug that Peter had learned to a.s.sociate with bad news. Johnny said with the sort of shrug that Peter had learned to a.s.sociate with bad news.

Who's after our hides for saving the Station three days ago?

Johnny rolled his eyes and, thanking the attentive steward with a wave, blew on the surface of the hot beverage.

s.p.a.ce Authority is alarmed by the rate at which we acquit our duties.

They're the ones coming up? Why? Monday was no fault of the Station's.

Johnny leaned back, crooking one arm over the back of the chair. In an odd way, it is. We're too d.a.m.ned quick and efficient. There are also too many 'dangerously' full cargo nets, what they hold not yet delivered to their ultimate destination. Also the Mercantile Union demands a full investigation of ex-captain Maggert's unfortunate encounter with the net. In an odd way, it is. We're too d.a.m.ned quick and efficient. There are also too many 'dangerously' full cargo nets, what they hold not yet delivered to their ultimate destination. Also the Mercantile Union demands a full investigation of ex-captain Maggert's unfortunate encounter with the net. Johnny planted one thumb on his chest and reversed it toward Peter. Johnny planted one thumb on his chest and reversed it toward Peter. And/or us. And/or us.

Was someone on the CeeCeeD CeeCeeD hurt after all? hurt after all?

Bruises. They should have been strapped in anyhow since they were technically still in flight.

But it was Maggert's fault. The log proves it.

Of course it does, Johnny said with a snort. Johnny said with a snort. The Union's just posturing because the freight captains want a raise in fees. Union claims that Padrugoi does not employ enough of their members because the surface-to-station run is unavailable. The Union's just posturing because the freight captains want a raise in fees. Union claims that Padrugoi does not employ enough of their members because the surface-to-station run is unavailable.

It hasn't been available for five years.

True, and the Union was more than happy to stop having to deal with Barchenka. Admiral Coetzer is a different kettle offish. On the other hand, s.p.a.ce Authority says the Station is not making an expeditious use of available s.h.i.+pping to supply First Base and its construction timetable.

But SA is the one complaining about fuel costs. The turnover would be faster if the freighters could use longer burns. Peter stopped because they both knew the answer to that. Longer burns took more fuel. Peter stopped because they both knew the answer to that. Longer burns took more fuel.

Johnny nodded, his eyes twinkling. "You got it, Pete. We're caught either side of that barrel. Unless, of course . . ."

You want us to heave stuff to First Base.

Now did I say that? Johnny demanded, sipping his coffee and raising his curved eyebrows up his forehead. Johnny demanded, sipping his coffee and raising his curved eyebrows up his forehead.

No, but it's the only way to clear that much of a backlog and you know it. Peter tried not to sound either alarmed, which he was, or angry, which was another way of being alarmed. He should have known where all this was leading. He should have known not to fall into Johnny's little trap in Adelaide with the chips Lance "had so urgently needed." He'd wondered when Johnny was going to bring the Bollard Bag special delivery 'port out in the open. Peter tried not to sound either alarmed, which he was, or angry, which was another way of being alarmed. He should have known where all this was leading. He should have known not to fall into Johnny's little trap in Adelaide with the chips Lance "had so urgently needed." He'd wondered when Johnny was going to bring the Bollard Bag special delivery 'port out in the open.

The Union will be seriously annoyed, Peter said with a sigh. Peter said with a sigh.

There will still be plenty of things for s.p.a.ces.h.i.+fters; junk I sure as h.e.l.l don't want to bust my gut sending, with or without your help. We gotta lay some rules, you know, Johnny said. Johnny said.

"You ever tell anyone about Adelaide?" he asked softly aloud. Not even Dirk Coetzer? Not even Dirk Coetzer?

"No, kid, I haven't. Wasn't the right time."

"It is now."

Johnny had the grace to nod, grimacing at the necessity.

Well, Dirk may suspect something. Our pet admiral has ambitions. We're both essential to them. Then Johnny leaned forward across the table, speaking softly, although there was no one else in the mess, bar the steward who was working in the serving alcove. "Anyway, it's much too soon after those fractures for you to be shoving stuff, Pete, but if we could just get one light unit to First Base, it would solve a lot of problems." Then Johnny leaned forward across the table, speaking softly, although there was no one else in the mess, bar the steward who was working in the serving alcove. "Anyway, it's much too soon after those fractures for you to be shoving stuff, Pete, but if we could just get one light unit to First Base, it would solve a lot of problems."

"I like the 'we.' "

"Now, kid, at Adelaide, I wanted most to prove your range to you," he said, c.o.c.king his finger at Peter.

Peter caught the note in the general's voice. "And now to them. Right?"

"You got it in one."

While Peter doubted himself, it irked him immensely that the s.p.a.ce Authority, which already owed a great deal to his and Johnny's telekinetic abilities, had hesitations.

"Have they asked if I-we-could?"

"That's one of the reasons they're here today, unless I miss my guess." He paused. "But I know that crowd. What with fuel prices going sky-high," and he made a face at using that phrase, "the SA is not at all pleased at the hike in expenses. You and I are their best bet for completing the additions at First Base. And quite likely the Mars project."

"The Moon today and Mars tomorrow?" Peter gawked. "They don't want much, do they?"

"You might get a reprieve on Mars until after First Base is fully operational."

Peter stared at Johnny because the general's tone suggested that this was within the realm of possibility.

"You're not kidding, are you?"

Johnny shook his head solemnly and then started to grin. "Pete, I have every confidence in you."

"What if . . ."

"What if be d.a.m.ned, Reidinger. You'll never know until you reach the limits of your envelope," Johnny said in a flat and serious tone. "They once said that we'd never break the sound barrier, that we'd never land on the Moon, that we'd never find other habitable worlds in this galaxy. For that matter, the abilities we have were discredited and scorned until Henry Darrow presented 'scientific proof.' "

"Now, wait a minute, General Greene." Peter lifted his hand, holding out his fingers in an urgent "stop" motion.

"Jesus, look at the time. " Gulping down the last of his coffee, Johnny rose to his feet. "We'd better get to CIC and 'port 'em up or they'll be late for this meeting they want. Let's 'port to the corridor outside. We haven't the excuse of an emergency today to plonk right onto the bridge."

Johnny glanced over his shoulder to check if the steward was still out of sight and then nodded "go."

They went and then strode purposefully into the CIC facility. The XO gave them a cheerful greeting. "Admiral's got a side party waiting to welcome our guests, gentlemen."

"Who all's due up?" Johnny asked, pausing by Linke Bevan.

"Secretary of s.p.a.ce Abubakar himself, his Chief Financial Officer, Alicia Taddesse, Mai Leitao."

"Oh, the bottom-liners," Johnny said with a displeased twitch of his lips. "Bean counters."

"A senior officer, Georg Fraga. That's all."

"That's enough. C'mon, Pete. Let's haul their a.r.s.es up here."

Are those people difficult?

I forget that you haven't had to deal with the s.p.a.ce Authority Administration before. "Pota Chatham's scheduled, isn't she?" "Pota Chatham's scheduled, isn't she?"

"As you requested, General."

"Morning, Bergkamp," the general said aloud as they reached the engineering station. "Are the generators on-line for our use?"

"Aye, sir, they are," Temuri Bergkamp replied formally, and gestured for the two kinetics to help themselves.

"General Greene," said Dash Sakai from his comm workstation, "I have a request from Jerhattan to lift the personnel carrier whenever you're ready."

Johnny shot a glance at the time icon that read 0843 and slipped into 0844 as they watched. Johnny nodded his head and Peter joined him to make the lift. Eyes twinkling, Johnny made a gesture at Dash Sakai, asking him to open the monitor at the landing bay. As the scene lit up, they all heard the bosun's whistle announcing the arrival on board of distinguished guests.

"Thanks, Bergkamp. C'mon, Pete. I need more coffee," Johnny said, acknowledging the others on the watch as the two kinetics made their way out of CIC.

"Coffee, pulease, Barney," Johnny said as he opened the door into the conference room where the meeting would take place.

"Aye, sir. Mr. Reidinger, tea for you?"

"Please."

Johnny paused by the conference table, looking around it. "We got stalls today." He pointed to the nameplates distributed in a semicircle facing the wide rectangular programmable screen taking up the far wall. "Ah, and whaddaya wanna bet we'll be in direct contact with Colonel Hiroga Watari at First Base."

"You didn't mention him," Peter said. He had already been introduced to the AirForce commander of the Moon Base on one of his infrequent downside trips. The colonel had given Peter a searching scrutiny and dismissed him. Though Peter was somewhat accustomed to such a reaction to his skinny, unprepossessing teenage appearance, the colonel's scathing regard had rankled, the encounter leaving behind it an offensive taint. Whether the colonel was aware of it or not, he exuded negative empathy. Or maybe it was just to nonent.i.ties like Peter Reidinger.

Yeoman Nicola Nizukami stepped forward from the other end of the room.

"Colonel Watari is on the schedule, General."

Peter was surprised at her tone; maybe she didn't like the colonel either. Of course, he had come to realize that she adored the admiral and guarded his privacy, and reputation, with the tenacity of a pit bull. Barney came forward and offered them their beverages.

"Aha, Hiroga's struck again, has he?" Johnny said, teasing her. He took a quick sip of his coffee as she flushed, needlessly straightening the hard copy at the first two places. He liked to have hard copy for important meetings. He could doodle on it.

Peter regarded her intently and then realized with dismay that he had come close to scanning her.

"You're his superior in rank, General," she remarked in what might be a total non sequitur.

"That I am," Johnny said cheerfully.

"Your seat's there, Mr. Reidinger is on the admiral's left." Again she colored unaccountably. "Secretary Abubakar on the right."

Johnny leaned around to see who bracketed him at the table. "I certainly don't mind Commander Chatham but do I have to have the CFO on the other side?"

"You've met Ms. Taddesse?"

"I've heard about her." Johnny grimaced.

"Come now, General, a woman you can't get on the good side of?" Nicola said, teasing in her own turn.

"There are some it isn't worth trying."

"Even for the good of the Station?" Nicola tilted her head inquiringly.

They heard voices in the corridor and Nicola stepped back to the chair by the workstation.

A yeoman opened the door and then stood back to allow the guests to enter. The first woman who entered, her hair skinned back from her strong-featured face, was Alicia Taddesse, according to the large print of her Station visitor's badge. She glanced at Nicola, who politely indicated her nametag on the table. Ms. Taddesse shot the general a sharp look, swinging her hard-sided briefcase onto the table. The second woman, with a slightly Asian cast to her features, very dark eyes, and well-cut short black hair, entered nervously. She was so loudly broadcasting her dislike of the mode of transportation she had just had to endure that mentally, Peter reared back. The yeoman indicated her position at the table and she immediately sat down, as if a chair provided security. Then came Secretary of s.p.a.ce Abubakar, a scrawny-looking man with heavy jowls, a small but noticeable paunch under the loose black tunic he wore, and a luxuriant head of white hair, brushed back from a high forehead. He smiled, his eyes moving from Johnny Greene to Peter, Nicola, and Barney, attentively standing in the serving alcove. Behind him, as physically opposite to the Secretary as possible, slouched a tall man who unconsciously ducked his head to enter the room though the portal was certainly high enough to allow clearance to the tallest man on the Station. Georg Fraga nodded pleasantly to Johnny Greene, gave Peter a searching look, and then stood by his chair. Lieutenant Commander Pota Chatham preceded Admiral Dirk Coetzer.

"Pota, when will First Base be on-line?" he asked as he entered.

"They should be on," said Commander Chatham, looking at her comunit, "on my mark in five minutes, sir. Mark!"

"Thank you. Secretary Abubakar, ladies, General, Peter, if you'll all take your seats?" the admiral said. "If you'll be good enough to give Barney here your choice of beverage, we can get that detail attended to before we start the hard work."

The newcomers, with the exception of Mai Leitao who asked for water, preferred coffee. Peter used that brief diversion to seat himself next to Mai Leitao, who made herself very busy, precisely setting out her notepad and lightpen, fussing with the hard copy in front of her.

"Good navy coffee," the Secretary said with a pleasant smile at Barney. His glance fell briefly on Peter.

"Might as well leave a carafe on the table for us before you leave, Barney," the admiral said. "Secretary, have you been officially introduced to Peter Reidinger, the general's colleague in Supply and Transport?"

Peter heard Mai Leitao's surprised intake of breath. He didn't need to look around to know that she immediately leaned as far away from him as her armchair permitted.

b.i.t.c.h! Johnny Greene said. Johnny Greene said. Ignore her, Pete. She's along for the prestige. Ignore her, Pete. She's along for the prestige.

And didn't like the ride, Peter said. Peter said.

Don't take that to heart. She feels agoraphobic to me.

"Ms. Leitao," Georg Fraga said, rising to his feet. "You're going to need more s.p.a.ce. Why don't you change with me? If the admiral doesn't mind?" He looked inquiringly to Coetzer in the center of the table.

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Pegasus In Space Part 20 summary

You're reading Pegasus In Space. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Anne McCaffrey. Already has 661 views.

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