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ignore the feet that someone was trying to jack her. Especially not with
Central Systems investigators due any day, and with the way she was dumping
her records onto the relays. If 'they' were allied with the station, 'they'
wouldn't be able to catch everything and wipe it. If AH
One-Oh-Three-Three disappeared, she was making it very hard for the claim of
'accident' to hold any water. I hope.
As Tia continued to head for deep space, a patrol craft finally put in an
appearance, cutting in between her and her pursuer, who belatedly turned to
make a run for it.
Tia slowed, and stopped, and held her position, as the adrenaline in her blood
slacked off. I remember panting, I remember shivering. I'd do both even now,
if I could. As it was, errant impulses danced along her sensors,
ghost-feelings of the might-have-been of weapon fire, tractor beams.
Slow heart. It's all right. Gradually her perception slowed back down to
real-time, and the outside world 'sped up'. That was when the station manager
himself hailed her.
"Of course I'm sure they were trying to break in," she snapped in reply to his
query, re-sending him her recordings, with close-ups on suspicious bulges
under the coveralls that were the right size and placement for needlers and
other weapons. She followed that with the bee-craft and the two men in the
welding-suits ... headed straight for her. "And those pursuit-craft certainly
were not my imagination!" She raised her voice, both in volume and pitch. "I
happen to be a fully trained graduate of Lab Schools, you know! I'm not in the
habit of imagining things!"
Now her adrenaline kicked in again, but this time from anger. They'd
been in real danger, they could have been killed! And this idiot was talking
to her as if she was some kind of, of joy-riding tweenie!
"I never said they were, ma'am," the station manager replied, taken somewhat
aback. "I, "
Just what kind of station are you running where a CS craft can be subject to
this kind of security breach?" she continued wrathfully, running right over
the top of him, now that she had the upper hand and some verbal momentum. "I'm
reporting this to the Central Worlds Sector Coordinator on my own comlink."
"You don't need to do that ma-"
"And furthermore, I am standing off-station until you can give me a
high-security slip!" she continued, really getting warmed up and ready to
demand all the considerations due a PTA. "My poor brawn is black and blue from
head to toe from the knocking around he took and lucky it wasn't worse! I want
you to question these people, "
"We're taking care of that, ma-"
"And I want to know everything you learn from them before I dock again!"
she finished, with a blast of feedback that punctuated her words and made him
swear under his breath as the squeal pierced his ears. "Until then, I am going
to sit out here and clog your approach lanes, and I don't particularly care
whether or not you like it!"
And with that, she put him on 'record' and let him splutter into a datahedron
while she turned her attention to Alex.
He had a wad of tissues at his face, trying to staunch the blood from nose and
lip, and his eyes above the tissues were starting to puff and turn dark. He
was going to look like a raccoon before too long, with a double set of black
eyes.
Obviously the first thing that had impacted with the couch was his face.
"Alex?" she said timidly. "Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean, there wasn't
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time, "
"Ith awright," he replied thickly. "You did okay. Din hab mush shoice.
Hanneled ev'thing great, hanneled him great. You arn gon moof for wile?"
She correctly interpreted that as praise for her handling of the situation and
a query as to whether or not she planned on moving.
"No, I don't plan on it," she replied, dryly. "But I had'nt planned on any of
this in the first place."
He simply grunted, pried himself up painfully out of the acceleration couch
and headed for their tiny sickbay to patch himself up.
She sent in a servo, discreetly, to clean up the blood in the sickbay and a
second to take care of the mess in the main cabin, thanking her lucky stars
that it hadn't been worse. If Alex had been standing when she pulled that spin
and acceleration instead of heading in the direction of the couch.
She didn't want to think about it. Instead, she ordered the kitchen to make
iced gel-packs. Lots of them. And something soft for dinner.
They left as soon as the CS contingent arrived and spent a little time
debriefing them. The CS folk showed up in a much fuller force than even Tia
had expected. Not only Central Systems Medical and Administrative personnel,
but a CenSec Military brainship, the CP-One-Oh-Four-One. Bristling with
weaponry.
And with the latest and greatest version of the Singularity Drive, no doubt,
she thought, a little bitterly. Heaven only knows what their version can do.
Bring its own Singularity point with it, maybe.
Whatever the administrators of Presley Station had thought they were going to
get away with, they were soon dissuaded. The first person off the
CenSec ship was a Sector Vice-Admiral; right behind him was an armed escort.
He proclaimed the station to be under martial law, marched straight into the
station manager's office, and within moments had the entire station swiftly
and efficiently secured.
Tia had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. Within the hour all the
witnesses and guilty parties had been taken into military custody, and
Tia confidently expected someone to call them and take their depositions at
any time.
Alex still looked like someone had been interrogating him with rubber hoses,
so when the brainship hailed them, she took the call, and let him continue
nursing his aching head and bruises.
The ship-number was awfully close to hers, although the military might not use
standard CS brainship nomenclature. Still ... One-Oh-Four-One. That's close
enough for the brain to have been in my class.
"That is you, isn't it?" were the first words over the comlink. The [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]