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her again.
Beatriz blinked her raw eyes awake. She turned her face away from the light
and sat up straight on a metal bench. Nearby, a guard coughed discreetly.
She wished for the clutter of her Project
Voidship office aboard the Orbiter. Her office was a few dozen meters from
the Current Control hatch and Dr. Dwarf MacIntosh. Her thoughts kept flying
back to Mack, and to her shuttle flight to him that was still a few hours
away.
Beatriz was tired, she'd been tired for weeks, and these constant delays
exhausted her even more.
She hadn't had time to think, much less rest, since the Director had her
shuttling between the
Project Voidship special and the news. Now today she was doing three jobs,
broadcasting from three locations.
She rode to the Orbiter on the shoulders of the greatest engines built by
humankind. When she blasted off Pandora her cluttered office aboard the
Orbiter became the eye of the storm of her life. No one, not even Flattery,
could reach her there.
The tones sounded again and seemed distinctly longer, sadder. Final boarding
call. The tones once again made her think of Ben, who was still not found,
who might be dead. He was no longer her lover, but he was a good man. She
rubbed her eyes.
A young security captain with very large ears entered the waiting-room hatch.
He nodded his head as a courtesy, but his mouth remained firm.
"The search is finished," he said. "My apologies. It would be best for you
to board now."
She stood up to face him and her clothing clung to her in sleepy folds.
"My equipment, my notes haven't been released yet," she said. "It won't do me
a bit of good to --
"
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He stopped her with a finger to his lips. He had two fingers and a thumb on
each hand and she tried to remember which of the old islands carried that
trait.
Orcas? Camano?
He smiled with the gesture, showing teeth that had been filed to horrible
points -- rumored to be the mark of one of the death squads that called
themselves "the Bite."
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"Your belongings are already aboard the ferry," he said. "You are famous, so
we recognize your needs. You will have the privacy of a stateroom for the
crossing and a guard to escort you."
"But . . ."
His hand was on her elbow, guiding her out the hatchway.
"We have delayed the ferry while you board," he said. "For the sake of the
project, please make haste."
She was already out in the passageway and he was propelling her toward the
ferry's lower boarding section.
"Wait," she said, "I don't think . . ."
"You have a task already awaiting you at the launch site," the captain said.
"I am to inform you that you will be doing a special Newsbreak there shortly
after arrival and before your launch."
He handed her the messenger that she usually carried at her hip.
"Everything's in here," he said, and grinned.
Beatriz felt that he was entirely too happy for her own comfort. Certainly
the sight of his teeth gave her no comfort at all. She was curious, in her
journalistic way, about the hows and whys of the death squads. Her survival
instinct overrode her curiosity. The security escort met them at the gangway.
He was short, young and loaded down with several of her equipment bags.
"A pleasure to have met you," the captain said, with another slight bow. He
handed her a stylus and an envelope. "If you please, for my wife. She
admires you and your show very much."
"What is her name?"
"Anna."
Beatriz wrote in a hasty hand, "For Anna, for the future," and signed it with
the appropriate flourish. The captain nodded his thanks and Beatriz climbed
aboard the ferry. She had barely cleared the second lock when she felt it
submerge.
Worship isn't really love. An object of worship can never be itself.
Remember that people love people, and vice versa. People fear gods.
-- Dwarf MacIntosh, Kelpmaster, Current Control
The early morning light clarified the new drift that Ben's life had taken. He
knew that he would use Crista's holy image on Shadowbox, much as Flattery had
used it on Holovision, to manipulate the people of Pandora. He would use
Crista to whip them up against Flattery. He knew that doing this would
further bury her humanity, her womanhood. Knowing he would do it cost him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]