Pegasus In Space Part 22

"Yes, you're correct. How did you know that detail, General?" Cyberal asked.

"That's where I told Peter Reidinger to put it." Johnny waited a moment to allow that information to be absorbed. "You have a time registered for the delivery?"

Cyberal nodded, spoke a few commands, and a window opened up on the conference screen and showed a replica of the May 10 date and early morning hour.

"Very interesting," and Secretary Abubakar gave Peter an approving smile.

That the admiral had not known was obvious to Peter but Coetzer concealed that behind his broad smile.

"The bag only weighed three kilos," Peter said, hoping to forestall what must be inevitable.

"Well," Alicia said with a condescending little smile and twist of her elegantly clad shoulders, "three kilos is scarcely something to brag about."

Peter felt a surge of anger for such belittling.

Hold that thought, Pete, Johnny said so sharply that Peter blinked. While the general's public manner was relaxed and slightly amused, Peter sensed Johnny Greene felt the same way about Taddesse's dismissal as he did. Johnny said so sharply that Peter blinked. While the general's public manner was relaxed and slightly amused, Peter sensed Johnny Greene felt the same way about Taddesse's dismissal as he did.

"Three kilos?" Colonel Watari asked eagerly.

"In point of fact," Lance said in a languid drawl, "we very badly need that s.h.i.+pment from Chipsink." He consulted his wrist pad. "Waybill number 51161708 that cleared Jerhattan terminal at 0845 today. Brought up to Padrugoi with the Secretary's party, I believe."

Commander Chatham was already tapping in the designation. "Yes, we have it on board."

"It weighs five kilos, Peter."

Every eye was on him, and he felt trapped.

Not trapped, Pete. It's just show time for the doubters.

Five kilos today, five hundred tomorrow, five thousand the next day. Peter felt perversely rebellious as well as anxious. He sternly reminded himself that this was what he had dreamed of doing when he was lying in hospital, what he and Johnny had talked about doing. He thought of how he'd just Peter felt perversely rebellious as well as anxious. He sternly reminded himself that this was what he had dreamed of doing when he was lying in hospital, what he and Johnny had talked about doing. He thought of how he'd just jumped jumped into the accident with the into the accident with the CeeCeeD CeeCeeD and did what had to be done, including s.h.i.+fting the freighter out of the way. Everyone was turned toward him, faces friendly and faces decidedly skeptical. He caught the ironic gleam in Johnny's eyes, subtly reminding him of that early morning in Adelaide Center. d.a.m.n General Greene for springing it on him without warning. Then he saw Alicia Taddesse's haughty and dubious expression, the stunned incredulity on Georg Fraga's face, the bland query on the Secretary's, and the hint of anxiety in Admiral Coetzer's eyes. Okay, Peter, he said to himself. It is show time. Five kilos! Only a question of mathematics. and did what had to be done, including s.h.i.+fting the freighter out of the way. Everyone was turned toward him, faces friendly and faces decidedly skeptical. He caught the ironic gleam in Johnny's eyes, subtly reminding him of that early morning in Adelaide Center. d.a.m.n General Greene for springing it on him without warning. Then he saw Alicia Taddesse's haughty and dubious expression, the stunned incredulity on Georg Fraga's face, the bland query on the Secretary's, and the hint of anxiety in Admiral Coetzer's eyes. Okay, Peter, he said to himself. It is show time. Five kilos! Only a question of mathematics.

"May I see the s.h.i.+pment?" His voice sounded unusually calm for someone about to make history-officially-with the longest distance teleport.

"Certainly, sir," said Chatham, and a window opened to the transit bay, showing an innocuous white plastic s.h.i.+pping carton, #51161708 clearly stenciled in black on the side.

What he could see he could 'port. He "felt" it to heft its ma.s.s. He tapped into the s.h.i.+p's generators. Had Johnny warned Engineering to be ready? He didn't much care. He wanted to alter the expressions on the faces of Alicia Taddesse and Georg Fraga. Scare the living daylights, for once and all, out of the stupid, intolerant Mai Leitao, and prove himself to the admiral. And especially to Johnny Greene, who was waiting, all but breathless, to see what Peter would decide.

Peter leaned lightly into the generators; no sense plowing the package into the surface of the Moon. It was only five kilos. He "saw" the bollard as he had "seen" it that morning in Adelaide; he didn't need the shadow of the moon crawler. Been there before. Can do it again. He 'ported the carton.

The tension in the room was palpable. Peter let it sit there for a long moment. First Johnny, then Lance began to smile.

"Lance," Peter said, "since Sergeant Gendro's already collected one delivery at that bollard, perhaps you could rely on him again."

Johnny let out a cowboy roar, clapping his hands over his head and swinging himself around in his chair in an excess of jubilation. The admiral grinned broadly and settled back relieved. Commander Chatham and, in the corner, Nicola Nizukami were also smiling. The Secretary alone appeared to keep his cool but the expression on Alicia Taddesse's face was one of shocked and dismayed surprise.

So she'd thought he couldn't do it? Peter thought, not letting any sign of triumph leak into his expression. He'd shown her! And himself!

At the end of the table, Georg Fraga looked unexpectedly worried and Mai Leitao collapsed across the table, knocking over her gla.s.s of water.

"Medic on the double, admiral's conference room," Commander Chatham said into her wristcom. "Yeoman, bring me more water."

Peter rescued Leitao's notepad and lightpen and "lifted" Barney's serving towel to soak up the spill.

"What did you do to her?" Alicia Taddesse demanded of Peter, glaring at him. She had jumped to her feet but made no move to a.s.sist her colleague.

"Peter did nothing to Mai Leitao," Johnny replied sharply to the CFO. "She did it to herself."

"How could she-?" Taddesse began and, seeing the fury on the general's face, broke off.

How could she think I'd do anything to another human being? Peter said, close to panic. Peter said, close to panic.

Stupidity, Pete. Pure stupidity. Calm down. You have done absolutely nothing wrong today. Nothing!

"Miss Leitao seemed a little unnerved by," the Secretary began, paused, and started again, "by reaching the Station so quickly."

Fraga had his fingers around her limp wrist. "She's got a pulse," he said rea.s.suringly. Commander Chatham touched Leitao's throat and confirmed that with a brief nod. Helpfully, Nicola held out a gla.s.s of water.

A discreet tap on the door heralded the arrival of the medical team. Peter was overwhelmingly relieved to see Ceara Scott leading them. She gave him the briefest but most emphatic encouraging nod as she made a quick examination of Mai Leitao.

"She fainted?" she asked in a nonjudgmental tone, looking around the table.

"It would appear so, Dr. Scott," the admiral said. "We have no idea why."

"I'll want to know exactly what caused a perfectly healthy woman to collapse, Doctor," Taddesse said in a gritty voice.

"Of course," Ceara said with a nod of her head, and gestured for the gurney team to approach. Deftly she and ratings transferred the slight limp body to the litter, blanketed it, and left the conference room. Peter didn't know why but Ceara's presence had unaccountably relieved him. "We'll do a full scan as soon as we get the patient to sick bay."

"Thank you," Alicia Taddesse said. She sat down again and moved her notepad into precise alignment with the edge of the table. "Colonel Watari, have you recovered the five kilos?"

"Not yet." The colonel was startled.

"It takes time to suit up, Ms. Taddesse," Lance said. "So where were we?"

"We are nowhere, Mr. Baden, until that sergeant returns with proof of delivery," Taddesse said, closing her lips in a firm line.

"I don't see how you can entertain doubts, Ms. Taddesse," Lance said. "Peter sent it. Ask the CIC engineer what readings he had on the generators."

"What good does that do?" she demanded of Lance.

"I think you failed to a.s.similate the significance of General Greene's file, Ms. Taddesse," said the admiral in the gentlest of tones, which should have warned the CFO.

"The significance is, if I may, Admiral," the Secretary interrupted, also in a mild tone, "that every telekinetic thrust can be recorded."

"And is, especially here on Padrugoi," Johnny said, a malicious smile on his lips, "so there is scientific proof that kinetic energy has been expended in a gestalt with the Station generators." He waved his hand toward Nicola, back at her workstation. "Please ask Lieutenant Bergkamp to forward the last five minutes of generator usage to our screen."

"Aye, sir," she said with alacrity.

With equal speed, another small window opened on the bottom of the monitor. It displayed readings in three categories, which were described as elapsed time, generators at rest, and usage. The slight surge as Peter made the brief gestalt was duly recorded.

"I don't believe those figures," Taddesse said belligerently.

"And tell me why we should wish to deceive you, Ms. Taddesse?" the admiral asked.

She pointed her finger at Peter, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng with anger, incredulity, and fear.

"I cannot, absolutely cannot, believe a boy that young could send even three grams all the way to the Moon. It's over 400,000 kilometers from here!"

"Mathematics, Ms. Taddesse," Johnny said, "which you as a CFO should certainly appreciate. Ten tons of equipment 440 kilos from Earth's surface to Padrugoi or five kilos 400,000 to the Moon. Peter has the range."

"Does boggle the mind," the Secretary remarked tactfully. "But then, the mind, ah, minds," and he nodded apologetically to Johnny Greene, "that could transport some five hundred kilos of personnel carrier from the Earth's surface to Padrugoi this morning do not have to prove themselves to me. It is greatly to the benefit of our entire program, CFO, that the ability is at this moment in time available to us. Otherwise"-his voice softened-"we might have to look for new jobs."

Unconvinced, Alicia Taddesse folded her arms in front of her, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng and darting about the conference room, her lips thin with denial.

A comunit blip startled everyone.

"Admiral? Commander de Aruya. Dr. Scott said you wished to be told as soon as we had examined Ms. Leitao. She is conscious and I'm treating her for shock. The MRI scan shows no cerebral damage or cardiac failure. Ms. Leitao is anemic, requires other essential minerals as dietary supplements, and stands in need of a holiday. I would hazard the guess that she's been working much too hard or has been under severe pressure lately. She should be well enough-I beg your pardon." Those listening heard a thin background noise and the doctor had evidently turned away from the comunit, his voice fading. "When you have a private moment, Admiral, I'd like a few words with you."

"Thank you, Commander de Aruya."

"No doubt Ms. Leitao would prefer a different mode of return," said Johnny, his eyes glinting maliciously as he looked up from his doodling.

"Hmmm. You may be right, General," the admiral agreed.

Secretary Abubakar clicked his tongue in annoyance; Taddesse tightened her crossed arms.

"All this excitement," Georg Fraga began. "Leitao's rarely out of the office, you know. She may not even be aware of-" With a helpless gesture of one hand, he broke off in chagrin.

"The strides made in the parapsychic sciences?" asked the general.

"How long does it take a man to suit up and retrieve a parcel?" asked Taddesse irritably, drumming her fingers on her upper arm."That is, of course, if there is one."

"Actually, Pete holds the record for getting into his EMU," Johnny said in a pleasant, conversational voice. "I find it takes me five minutes to be properly suited up and go through the checks. And I'm supposed to be fast."

Johnny, are you doing us any good by needling her so? Peter asked, getting more and more peeved. so? Peter asked, getting more and more peeved.

She may be the CFO but plain mathematics will require her to employ your kinetic ability as opposed to the fuel bill they'd have to pay if they don't. She'll have no possible argument now that Abubakar is on our side.

Is he?

Yes.

What have we proved today? That I can fling five kilos to the Moon?

Yes, but also that you did it, Peter And with no strain at all.

How can you determine that? Peter demanded, since he wasn't hooked up to the usual sensors. Peter demanded, since he wasn't hooked up to the usual sensors.

We know exactly what use you made of the generator gestalt, Pete, that's how.

Peter had no further argument. So Johnny had trapped him into this display, at this time, and before such skeptics. The admiral could have, but Peter didn't think he had. Certainly the people from the s.p.a.ce Authority hadn't been party to this, not with the way that CFO felt about him. Fraga looked sick with worry. For Ms. Leitao? What had made her faint like that? He'd been careful not to so much as think in her direction.

"Admiral Coetzer?" Colonel Watari's deep voice roused Peter from his unhappy deliberation. "Sergeant Gendro has found a package at the bollard. The waybill reads number 51161708 from Chipsink, s.h.i.+pping date's today and time of s.h.i.+pment is marked as 0845. Show 'em the tag, Sergeant."

The First Base window altered to display the details.

"I think that proves delivery," Lance said, looking slightly smug.

"Bring the package in on the double, Sergeant," the colonel said in sharp command.

"We can sure use those chips right away," Major Cyberal said, very pleased.

"Chips are the least of our worries," Watari muttered.

The Secretary turned to Peter, approval and relief apparent in his expression. "The question now is, how much ma.s.s can you send at a time, Mr. Reidinger?"

"I don't know, Mr. Secretary," Peter said honestly, and heard the derisive noise that came from the direction of Alicia Taddesse. "I'd be willing to try to increase ma.s.s."

"Increasing slowly over a period," Johnny put in, "with me a.s.sisting."

"Frankly, we have never been able to ascertain what Pete's limit is, Mr. Secretary," Lance added, sitting forward.

"You said it was all mathematical," Taddesse said, almost snarling at Johnny.

"So it is," Johnny replied, unruffled. "And, with Pete's permission, we'll keep pus.h.i.+ng. By the same token, it's inadvisable to overload or overuse his telekinetic ability."

You said you'd be helping me.

So I will, but we both know that I have a limit. It's you we're selling to save the projects.

"Until, or if, we discover a finite limit," Johnny continued, "we should be able to come to a useful working schedule. We already have some guidelines," and Peter knew that Johnny was attempting to convince him more than anyone else in the room, "in terms of generator power used and calories burned."

"The general and I have finite limits to the ma.s.s we we can teleport and how far," Lance put in. "I, too, advise that we proceed slowly. John gets as much as one thousand tons from surface to Station at a go. What're you up to, Johnny? Eight loads a day?" can teleport and how far," Lance put in. "I, too, advise that we proceed slowly. John gets as much as one thousand tons from surface to Station at a go. What're you up to, Johnny? Eight loads a day?"

"One an hour," Johnny said. "Of course, we can do two or more small to medium lots within the half hour but I watch my calorie burn carefully and don't exceed what I know my daily limit is."

"I can 'port small ma.s.ses-100-pound limit-but not as far as the general can," Lance went on. "Anything under ten kilos, or 100 k telekinetic pressure, say, as I had to during Bangladesh flood conditions. I can handle that sort of work for upward of several hours. But then I have to rest for a similar period."

"And Mr. Reidinger?" asked the Secretary, clearly impressed by the details from the two older men.

Grinning, Lance spread his hands wide, a gesture that Johnny Greene repeated.

"We found out something new today, ladies and gentlemen," Johnny said. "Let's proceed cautiously with this valuable natural resource."

"Using what as the primary guideline, the use of the generators or the caloric expenditure?" asked the Secretary.

"Calories mean energy expended. That's the most important criterion."

"What are your favorite foods, Mr. Reidinger?" the Secretary asked with a mischievous smile.