Sky Hunter (15 page)

Nova stopped walking. “To keep my door
closed? To make no trouble? Not hit him, maybe?”

“
No. I won’t do that. I am giving you
the option to transfer to Zenta squad flying out of Siolet if you
prefer. No one will think less of you for that,
Lieutenant.”

“
I’m not running from him,” she said at
once.

“
Think about it.”

They continued to walk toward the officers’
quarters. His offer, made in private, seemed sincere. It would mean
less tension among his pilots if she transferred and it would
certainly be a relief for her. Perhaps one of her well-meaning
counselors had even suggested it. Still, hiding from Beryl was
utterly unacceptable to her. It felt like running away. She had
found acceptance, even friends, within her unit, especially after
the gossip about Beryl’s blackened eyes had circulated.

“
No,” she said. “I will stay with my
squad.” She hesitated, needing to know. His ire over her decision
would tip the scales here. Did he really think of her as so
fragile? Perhaps punching Beryl had not been the best way to
display self-control and fortitude under pressure. “What is your
preference, sir?”

He did not look at her. “You’re a fine pilot,
Whiteside. You have the grit. The men respect you and that’s where
it counts. You will make Hunter Class and that looks good on me,
too.” He allowed himself a faint smile. “I see no reason for you to
transfer.”

Nova kept her expression carefully neutral.
“Thank you, sir.”

“
I also think you can work out your
issues with him here. Deal with it. You don’t have to interact. I
can perhaps try to get his gang scattered a bit. But anything more
would require explanations to our new CO and perhaps even the
General. And that will raise questions about the reporting by both
you and Major Trakkas.”

“
That won’t be necessary.” Nova had
heard the note of disapproval in his comment about the reports. She
wanted to ask him, but then decided not to press him about it.
“Thank you for giving me the option.”

He gave a curt nod and opened the door to his
quarters. “Whiteside,” he called her back when she continued along
the hall. She turned. “I’m pleased by your decision. I think maybe
I was wrong about you.”

* * *

“Now
this
is what this entire place
is all about.” A Centauri officer waited at the door for her small
gaggle of tourists to gather on the catwalk overlooking the
elevator hub. Skyranch Twelve was not designed to attract much of a
tourist crowd, unlike the ones above the ice-bound Feron where few
inhabitants had ever seen food grow above ground or Feyd where a
thick atmosphere made launching into space from an orbiting
platform far more affordable.

The two orbiters that would serve Bellac were
designed purely for the manufacture of food and electricity and
down here, on the lowest level where the tether from the ground met
the station, things were pretty much utilitarian. Nova had expected
a modern passenger handling area, perhaps kiosks where one could
get more information about the tether’s nanotube construction, or a
spot to take some video of the distant planet hanging over their
heads.

Instead, the area they were now shown looked
like any loading dock she had ever seen on any base station or
transport ship, albeit much larger. Metal floors and walls, cold
metal railings, hoists, trolleys, storage containers and control
stations. Workers bustled in the clear space around the tether to
prepare for a new arrival from the ground. Nova’s group leaned over
the railing to watch, restricted from entering the well-ordered
burst of activity on the floor.

“
Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Boker
propped his elbows on the metal bar. After Lieutenant Rolyn had
decided to abandon him in favor of the skyranch, Boker had given up
his plans for Siolet’s alehouses. Besides, the orbiter had two very
nicely stocked lounges. His eyes travelled upward along the cable.
“Look how thin that tether is. You don’t notice that down on the
ground.”

Nova nodded. Their temporary guide chatted
about tensile strength, payloads and velocity while actually
holding a cross section of the nanotube belt in her hands. On the
ground, near Shon Gat, the bottom part of the elevator was
protected by graphene cages as well as the shielding. As support
for a system of sensors, com gear and defensive measures, its width
seemed far more reassuring than this ribbon. Maybe the extra girth
near the ground was intended to keep passengers from fleeing in
terror. “I think I might be too scared to go for a ride down this
thing,” she said. “The skyranches I’ve been to weren’t
tethered.”

“
Imagine sitting in a box tied to this
for three days.”

Nova turned to the guide who had stopped to
take a breath. “Will this be used for passengers?”

“
Not at this time. It just takes too
long. Once we’re fully staffed, the station will operate a commuter
shuttle for round trips every fifty days. We’ll have emergency
vehicles, of course, and a private transport company is going to
offer trips to the surface if you can’t wait for the shuttle. So
far we have just cargo pods travelling along the tether. Eventually
we may bring in a passenger car for those who want the experience
of travelling through space that way. It’s not a priority for
Bellac.”

A slight vibration ran through the metal
plates on which they stood and then a massive climber descended
from the ceiling. Those among the pilots who had not seen a climber
at the Shon Gat base gasped in awe at the sheer size of it, looking
like a small transport ship sliding down along the tether. Nova had
expected rollers and cables or perhaps magnets but the assembly
attaching the climber to the elevator reminded her of one of the
frustrating engineering puzzles at the academy. The cargo bins,
once released by the protective shielding, slid effortlessly onto
tracks leading into the adjacent holding area.

“
Not a box, then,” Boker said. “Might
actually be fun.”

“
I prefer to be in charge of steering
whatever is hauling me through space,” Nova replied.

“
The elevator is of course powered by
solar energy,” their guide gestured downward although from here
they were unable to see the transparent dome on the other end of
the station, surrounded by vast arrays of solar panels and
communication systems. “But we also use the regenerative braking
power of the downward crawler to power the upward movement.” She
smiled. “Of course, up and down is a matter of opinion. Halfway
there, gravity plays a big part no matter which way you go. And
since the station’s gravity spinners are now below us, the planet
is actually above our heads. We are, from Bellac’s point of view,
upside down.”

Nova watched the dock hands unload the
container. “What’s all that?”

“
Supplies for the station, water,
gases. Much of that will of course be manufactured right up here
eventually but we still have a lot to do before the farm rings are
producing. We also accept shipments of export goods. Beyond those
doors are air locks able to accommodate five transports at a time.
The freighter leaving from there is taking those barrels of
anai
oil into Trans-Targon. It’s worth a lot there. So by
acting as a shipping port, the station is already starting to pay
for itself because those shippers don’t need to land in the
atmosphere. Currently, we see one of these transports once every
few rotations, but eventually the traffic will be
constant.”

“
That’s a lot of
anai
oil,”
Boker said. He bent far over the railing to look over the rows of
shipping containers waiting to be handled. Nova resisted an impulse
to grab the back of his jacket to keep him from going
over.

“
Bellac also exports frozen seafood
that your people eat in huge amounts, Lieutenant. Skyranch Thirteen
will be at sea and include a sub-surface processing plant. By using
the ranches for most of Bellac’s import and export activities, we
should be able to curtail the smuggling of
mince
and
exotics.”

“
Drugs and slaves,” Boker translated
out of the side of his mouth. Nova boxed him lightly in the
ribs.

Their guide had heard him. “Unfortunately
that is true, Lieutenant. The demand for
mince
outside
Bellac is increasing. Fortunately, so far no one has tried to
smuggle slaves using the elevator. We have, however, confiscated
animals in stasis destined for the pet trade, a horrible practice
and of course a violation of other planets’ ecosystem management
policies.”

“
Huge demand for churries on Targon,”
Boker said wisely. Some of the others snickered.

“
What about security here on the
platform?” Nova asked.

The officer pointed around the domed hall,
probably glad for the change of subject. “This area is normally
restricted to all but transport personnel. We’ve got video
surveillance, armed guards on all levels, and this access area to
the tether can be closed off from the station in a matter of
seconds. Air Command presence here will depend on current threat
levels. The tether itself is shielded in ways that I can’t tell
even you, Lieutenant, and of course the cargo bins are shielded
individually against radiation and temperature fluctuations on the
way to and from the planet.”

“
She probably doesn’t know, either,”
Boker mumbled behind his hand as they dutifully trotted after their
host and out of the shipping area.

“
Expect some gravity shifts,” she
advised as walked along a curving passage. “We are going to walk
around the gravity generators on our way to the upper levels. If
you use the lifts this will hardly be noticeable. They move
horizontally as well as vertically. Of course, you won’t have much
need to come down this way.”

They soon reached a broad observation level
that allowed a view of the exterior of the orbiter as well as an
overlook into the hollow interior space. They were able to step out
onto the bowed wall and, as pilots and inured to vertigo, all of
them took that option to look down into a central recreational area
and then up to see the massive skylight. The station core was
flooded with sunlight and its floor and terraces showed the
beginnings of gardens and green space. Five levels of residential
and work areas overlooked this space, alleviating the
claustrophobia that struck so easily on base stations and
long-distance transports. Some levels were still open as work crews
completed the construction.

“
As you will have seen during your
approach here, the station is spindle-shaped with the gravity
generator at the center, which is now slightly below us.” She
gestured through the window. “The residential and administrative
wings are operated at point eight of Bellac’s gravity and dampened
toward the station terminals.” She turned to Boker. “The pointy
ends.”

Nova poked him again before he could retort
with some wisecrack.

“
As you noticed, gravity down at the
elevator hub is much lighter, making work there more efficient and
allowing for far larger containers. The same is true for the upper
end of the station, where the solar collectors are nearly
weightless. Below that, of course are the two combat plane levels.
A much grander landing bay is centrally located between the grow
rings for the most spectacular view of the station upon approach.
All civilians and off-duty personnel use those locks.”

Nova left the interior wall to walk across
the broad, empty concourse to look out over the exterior of the
station. The central portion of the orbiter was surrounded by
multi-level, mostly transparent rings where they would grow food
and recycle water and gases. Two of the rings were in place, a
third was nearly complete. She saw people moving through them,
partially afloat in the curving tubes. Against the black backdrop
of space it looked as surreal as she remembered from past visits to
places like these.

Some of the others also strolled over to
where she stood with her hands pressed against the transparent
walls.

“
We maintain minimal gravity out there,
basically just what the station pulls,” the guide said. “The shells
can be adjusted for radiation and light. The arms holding the rings
are lined with conveyors that transport the bins of…”

Nova was no longer listening. “I’ll see you
later, Heiko,” she whispered to Boker.

“
Eh? Where are you going? I thought you
wanted to see the place.”

“
Got something to do. They won’t let us
into the construction sites, anyway. Or the Command center.” She
stepped away from the group and hurried upward along the curving
concourse and then took a lift to the next level. The design of
this station included improvements over those built before it but
she knew her way around well enough. The exit she sought was a
quarter of the way around the station from where she had left the
tour.

“
Evening,” she greeted a technician
standing near a workstation.

The Centauri looked up briefly and then back
again when he realized that she was uniformed. “It’s morning over
there,” he pointed through the glass frontage before them and the
planet below. “Though my stomach says it’s supper time. I’ll never
get used to it.”

She smiled. “Me neither.”

“
Kind of out of your playpen, aren’t
you?” he said. “Don’t often get pilots coming around up
here.”

“
Grew up on a skyranch,” she shrugged.
“Lots of memories. And there’s someone here I know. Maybe you can
help me find him.”