Fleet of Worlds by Larry Niven & Edward M. Lerner

Author:Larry Niven & Edward M. Lerner [Niven, Larry & Lerner, Edward M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780765329486
Google: 6eNk7TaBWdAC
Amazon: 0765329484
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2011-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

"What did you see?" she whispered.

"A viewing gallery, I think, overlooking a roomful of Citizens and terminals. The gallery itself is empty."

Muddy splotches marked their approach. The rocky ground didn't take full bootprints. She pointed at her boots, covered in muck. "We can hope the rain will wash away our tracks, but that won't help us indoors. Our boots have to stay outside."

With a shrug, Eric sat down through the false wall. His head, shoulders, arms, and feet remained outside.

He slipped off his boots, setting them just outside the holo wall, and then leaned backward to roll the rest of the way inside. His disembodied voice called, "Come on."

Faster than she could mimic Eric's entry procedure, he was flat on the floor, peering through the railing at the activity below. His clothes had become a pale blue that closely matched the corridor wall. She reprogrammed her own clothes and joined him. Below them, ten Citizens were seated near terminals, three walked about, and seven more stood watch over an array of stepping discs.

Holograms floated among and over the institute staff. Even the nearest projections were maddeningly indistinct at this distance. Images of Colonists—or was humans the correct term?—their activities unrecognizable. Impressions of text, none readable. The holo of a Nature Preserve world, clouds masking its surface. Holos of General Products hulls. It was all tantalizing.

It told her nothing.

Kirsten crawled around the balcony area, hugging the exterior wall. She was sopping wet from the rain and left a damp trail. She hoped strong winds sometimes blew in rain, or that the water would evaporate before a Citizen appeared up here.

The unattended terminal she sought was at the railing, a third of the way around the gallery. For all Kirsten knew, it offered only administrative functions unrelated to the purposeful activity below. She scooted backward with its wireless keyboard in hand until the wall touched her back. If she managed to activate the terminal and set its display into flat mode, whatever she did should be invisible from the floor below.

Murmurs and music whispered, snatches of speech from terminals and conversations below. Acoustical vagaries, echoes from the dome overhead, and her limited fluency reduced it all nearly to babble. Nearly, but not quite: Scattered words and phrases were intelligible. "Human" and "wild humans" were distinct enough, and several mentions of known space, and something she must have misunderstood, about a suspicious arm.

She could not get past the welcome display. Administrative or not, the terminal expected biometric authentication. Beyond turning the terminal on, all Kirsten had managed to do was to dim the display, still in floating holographic mode, to pale translucence. Faint characters continued to invite an authorizing tongueprint.

She caught Eric's eye. He shrugged, as unsuccessful as she at spotting anything useful. His face was mottled, pinkish-purple and pale. His chest moved shallowly but rapidly. She thought she heard wheezing. Whatever asthma was, she had to get him to an autodoc.

The hike from the safety shelter and its stepping disc had taken hours.

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