Bear, Greg - Eon 01 by Bear Greg

Author:Bear, Greg [Bear, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-10-30T15:33:17+00:00

"Let's go," Lanier said. They hooked their safety lines to a long pole stretched out near the aircraft and kicked away one by one to enter the hatch. Two people fit into the airlock; they cycled twice, Lanier waiting until last. With the hatch sealed and air pressure restored, he removed his suit and folded it into the compartment beneath the airlock controls.

With only four passengers, the aircraft interior was spacious.

The forward part of the cabin was filled with boxes of scientific equipment; Carrolson and Farley checked them out before strapping in.

Lanier joined Heineman in the cockpit.

"All fuel and oxygen cables clear," Heineman said, checking the instruments. "I've run the diagnostics on the tuberider. Everything's go."

He looked expectantly at Lanier.

"Then go," Lanier said.

Heineman swung out the pylon which held the tuberider controls and locked it before him. "Hang on,' he said. Then, over the intercom,

"Ladies, barf bags are in the pouches of the seat in front of you. Not suggesting, you understand."

He depressed the clamp controls. Slowly, smoothly, the tuberider began to slide along the slender silver pipe of the singularity. "A little more," he said: Lanier felt himself pressed back into his seat.

"And a little more still."

They were heavy now, lying on their backs in a cockpit and cabin suddenly upended. "Last bit," Heineman said, and they effectively weighed half again more than they would have on Earth. "There's a rope ladder I'll unroll down the aisle, just in case anybody has to go to the bathroom." He grinned at Lanier. "I don't recommend the lavatory in these conditions.

We didn't get enough specs to design for comfort. I'll let up on the clamps if anyone gets desperate."

"Count on it," Carrolson said from the cabin.

Lanier watched the corridor moving slowly, majestically around them.

,xrough the windscreen, the floor of the corridor merged in the distance with the pearly central glow of the plasma tube . . .

stretching perhaps forever.

"The ultimate escape, isn't it?" Heineman asked, as if reading his thoughts. "Makes me feel young again."

Chapter Thirty-four After three separate occasions where Olmy wrapped himself in his isolating net of lights, Patricia decided there was something faintly unsavory about Talsit. Perhaps it was addictive--whatever it was.

They had been flying for at least three days--perhaps as many as five---and while Olmy and the Frant were unfailingly polite and answered her questions with seeming sincerity, they were not exactly voluble. She spent much of her time sleeping fitfully, dreaming about Paul. She often touched his last letter, still in the breast pocket of her jumpsuit. Once she awoke screaming and saw the Frant jerk spasmodically in its berth.

Olmy had half fallen from his couch and was staring at her with evident alarm.

"Sorry," she said, looking between them guiltily.

"Quite all right," Olm, said. "We wish we could help. We could, actually, but . . .

He didn't finish. A few minutes later, when her heart had stopped racing and she realized she couldn't remember what had made her scream, she asked Olmy what he meant by saying they could help.

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