Perimeter: Joe Ballen, Book Two by David M. Kelly

Author:David M. Kelly [Kelly, David M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nemesis Press
Published: 2018-04-20T22:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

The funereal gray sphere of Ceres hung off to the right, a giant ball of mud cracked and pitted as if baked in the glare of the sun over millennia. In this case, appearances weren't deceptive and there wasn't much there of interest to either us or the Atolls. It really was a ball of rock and ice. The bright spots in the Occator crater stared up at us like some baleful half-blind eye, but despite the fanciful naming, there was nothing fertile there.

The fuel storage unit floated in front of Sarac, looking like a giant silver barrel that dwarfed the ship entirely. It was self-contained and autonomous, the only regular visitors being automatic fuel delivery drones that kept the tanks topped up. The silver surface was encrusted with dark-purple solar arrays, which powered the small thruster units used to maintain its orbit.

At the "top" of the drum, there was the slight bump of the respite station, sticking up like a shallow nipple. From what I knew, the station could hold as many as a dozen people and was stocked with basic emergency supplies and medical equipment. Only a resource-rich culture like the Atolls could afford to leave such luxuries floating unused in space, in case someone wandered by. That said, I'd be more than happy to "plunder" the treasure trove given the chance.

I suited up by the main airlock, ready to face the rigors of going EVA again. The handheld maneuvering units had been recharged, and there was nothing left to stop me. It was a case of Super-Ballen-Rides-Again. I was a little surprised when Delacort helped me zip up my suit, keeping up a constant stream of chatter. Perhaps he was feeling lonely.

"Did I tell you about my sister?" he said. "She's got a couple of kids by this fathead husband. They're doing okay, got an apartment outside Toronto. But then suddenly he's never there. She's looking after the kids and everything, and he's nowhere around. Always working. You know what it means when a guy says that, right?"

"He might just be trying to do what he can to take care of his family." I readjusted the straps yet again, vainly looking for a more comfortable position.

"Come on. He's got to be running around with some cheap slitch."

"You're not around much for your wife, are you?"

Delacort stopped fastening the seals on my suit momentarily. "That's different, I'm in the service. I don't have any say in where I'm assigned or for how long. Would you treat—"

I looked up when he cut off and turned awkwardly in my P-Suit to follow his stare. "Dollie?"

She was standing by the inner bulkhead, her arms folded across her chest defensively. She looked tired and a little drawn, as if she hadn't slept well for several days. The nasty part of me did a flip imagining why she hadn't been sleeping, while the better part of me put it down to LoGee intolerance and insisted she looked as beautiful as always.

"Hi." After several

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