(eng) Neal Asher - Polity Universe 03 by Gridlinked

Author:Gridlinked [Gridlinked]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

As the shuttle drifted through the shimmer-shield into the Hubris, Cormac noticed that a large area of the shuttle bay’s deck had been replaced. A couple of crewmembers were working on something behind the far wall, near the drop-shaft, but otherwise it looked as if most of the damage had been repaired. The shuttle itself had been attended to before they went out, and at least ten technicians and numerous robots had been waiting for them to move the vehicle, so they could get to the deck underneath it.

‘Well, that’s the holiday over,’ he said to Jane.

‘You considered that restful?’ she asked him.

‘Yes. I have a feeling I’ll be looking back on our little trip with something approaching nostalgia in the days to come.’

He unclipped his belt and stood up. He grinned to himself as he left the Golem; it was nice that she could think of no patronizing reply. Now, as he had told her, the holiday was over. Perhaps something more had been discovered here. Bowing slightly to Jane’s observations, he headed for the recreation room, rather than the misanthropic solitude of his cabin. From there, he would talk with Hubris. As he entered the corridor leading to that room he saw Chaline, her overall wrinkled and sweat-stained yet again, walking in the opposite direction with another technician. At the end of the corridor they kissed before moving on. Cormac felt a moment of chagrin, then grinned to himself again. Perhaps her shower didn’t work properly. He entered the canteen.

The only people in the room were three technicians. They were eating a meal while checking computations on their notescreens and arguing about five-dimensional singularity mechanics. Cormac heard one of them mention N-space and another say something about Skaidon cusp time vectors. He nodded to them and headed for the food dispenser. It was not as if it was a conversation to which he might be able to contribute. The round screen of the dispenser clicked to life when he tapped a miniconsole that someone had left extended from the wall on its narrow stem.

‘Do you have Cheyne white cakes,’ he asked.

The words ‘In Stock’ appeared on the screen and a ‘Waiting’ sign began flashing in its lower right-hand comer.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll have Cheyne white cakes, new bread and butter, and a suitable white wine.’

The words changed to ‘Acquiring’, and it took only a few minutes for his meal to drop into the slot below on a sealed tray. He had been on worse ships. He sat at a table as far from the technicians as he could get—their discussion had reached the waving-plastic-knives-across-the table stage—and flipped up the table’s screen.

‘Hubris, anything new?’ he asked as he unsealed his tray. He examined the glass bottle of wine he freed from the tray. Made from null-G grapes; he pursed his lips in approval, and then pulled a glass free too.

There was a delay before he received an answer from Hubris. The screen flicked on to reveal the view seen from something moving slowly down a smooth-sided shaft.

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