Galactic Center 1 - In the Ocean of Night by Gregory Benford

Author:Gregory Benford
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 2011-11-07T18:30:00+00:00

PART FIVE

2018

ONE

It came in an instant, neatly dividing her life.

A moment before she had been serenely gliding over the crumpled, silvery moonscape. She was distracted, plotting her n course and chewing sugary raisins. Her sled was coasting through a series of connected ellipses, bound for nearside. Earth w rising, a glinting crystal globe above the warped moon.

There was a thump she felt more than heard. The horizon tilted crazily. She slammed forward into her harness and the sle began to fall.

Her clipboard spun away, there was the shriek of metal on metal; the sled was tumbling. She snatched at the guidestick an thumbed on the maneuvering jets. The right was dead. Some on the left responded. She brought them up to full impulse.

Something was rattling, as though working loose. The sled lurched again, digging her harness into her.

The rotation slowed. She was hanging upside down, looking at the blunted peak of a gray-brown mountain as it slid by, uncomfortably close. She was still falling.

The sled was rectangular, all bones and no skin. She could see the forward half and it seemed undamaged. Everything she had heard came literally through the seat of her pants, conducted along the struts and pipes of the sleds rectangular network The damage, then, was behind her.

She twisted around, got a partial view of tangled wires and a fuel tank—and then realized she was being stupid. Never try do a job upside down, even if there are only a few seconds left. And she had minutes to go before impact, certainly. Whatev had happened behind—a tank rupture? pipe blowout?—had thrown her into a new ellipse, an interception course with the lo mountain range near the horizon.

She pulsed the maneuvering jets again and the sled rotated sluggishly. Something was forcing the nose down as she turne She stopped when the forward bumper was nearly parallel to the horizon. She unbuckled automatically and turned.

Impossibly, the right rear corner of the sled gaped Open. It was simply gone—tanks, braces, supplies, hauling collar, a search light.

For a moment she could not think. Where was it? How could it have blown away? She looked back along the sleds trajectory, half expecting to see a glittering cloud of debris. There were only stars.

Training took hold—she leaned over and punched the override button that glowed red on her console. Now the navigation program was disconnected. Since it had sounded no warning, apparently the circuits still believed they were bound on a selenographic survey, working toward nearside. She started the ion engine, mounted slightly below and behind her, and felt reassuring purr. She checked the horizon—and found she was spinning again. She turned in her couch, somewhat awkward her spacesuit had caught on a harness buckle.

Yes—at the edge of the gaping hole there was a thin haze. A pipe was outgassing, providing enough thrust to turn the sle She corrected with maneuvering jets and the sled rightened.

She turned up the ion beam impulse and tried to judge her rate of fall. The jagged, pocked surface rose to meet her.

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