Anne McCaffrey Freedom 2 Freedom's Choice

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discover any unusual denizens, though none had been seen in either of the
other two inhabited places. Once Mitford had organized the basics of those
explorations, he left a sheaf of instructions with Easley as 'the manual' and
roused the members of his combined team.
They set off before second moonrise since the amphibious vehicle had lights.
It also had excellent suspension, because Mitford slept his usual six hours as
Zainal drove it over surfaces rough and smooth.
The driver sat in the centre of this vehicle, with seating for two on either
side and control panels across the width of the 'command'
position. Zainal gave demonstrations to his relief drivers, Joe Marley and
Astrid, conducting a running lesson on the vehicle's potential and what each
control was supposed to show, what the various icons on the panel board meant.
"Have we got a periscope?" Marley wanted to know in a facetious mood.
"Third button on right, sun icon,' said Zainal.
"Why didn't I guess?" 'We can drive deep, cannot use scope. Says the manual,'
Zainal replied.
"A man who will read manuals!" Sarah gave a sigh of exaggerated respect.
Joe gingerly tapped the 'glass' of the slit window beside him.
"How much pressure will this stand?" 'Enough. We will not go deep. Is more
built for cor-ro-sive atmospheres,' Zainal added.
"Which is to close vents, Astrid?" he asked, testing her memory of the
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functions on the panel in front of her.
"This one,' she said, promptly pointing to it.
"Got it in one,' said Zainal and Kris, seated behind him, chuckled. He leaned
back. 'I learn new ones every day, don't I?"
"I, too,' said Astrid proudly.
"You sure do, Astrid,' Joe agreed, grinning at her.
Sarah, seated behind him, tapped his shoulder. 'And what have you learned
today, Francis Marley?" she asked, teasing him with his hated Christian name.
"I'll tell ya later,' doe said, giving her a mock leer.
"Any time, cobber,' she replied.
The point at which they were headed was close to 500 miles from Camp
Narrow, and the intention was to drive straight through to their destination
with only brief halts to let air circulate through the Tub.
It was such a new piece of equipment that it reeked of paint, oil and other
strong odours and needed to have its air system flushed out, especially before
they submerged. So they stopped from time to time, to brew tea and relieve
themselves.
By midmorning the next day, the sea sparkled ahead of them.
Visible without benefit of the binoculars was the irregular lavender coastline
of the neighbour land-mass. The water before them was calm, with gentle
ripples curling over onto the beach.
"Further away than Dover from Calais,' Astrid said, for she had travelled
extensively in Europe in her college days.
Zainal said something in Catteni, flicked up his left hand when the number he
wanted refused to come to mind. 'Six or seven plus seven tens,' he said.
"Seventy-six,' said Kris. 'And how fast will the Tub go underwater?"
"Not as fast as on land,' he replied. 'Half the speed."
"That's far from slow,' said Joe, impressed, and he peered at the sloping
shoreline. 'Shallow?" he wondered.
"We'll find out soon enough,' Mitford said. 'All aboard,' end he called in
Astrid, Bjorn and Jan who had been searching for clams on the pebbly
shoreline.
They had no sooner reached the flotation point for the Tub than a quick ping
began to echo from Joe's panel. 'Sonar?" he asked and then saw the gauge that
was lighting up. 'Or something like it. Are you taking us down, skipper?"
Zainal shook his head. 'Distance to bottom."
Water was reaching the slit windows now and covering twothirds of the main
one, and the slight movement of the waves could be felt.
"I forgot to ask,' Mitford said, 'does anyone on board get seasick . .
. besides me?"
"Serge? You can't,' Kris said in mock-alarm.
Leila, who had watched as was her custom, now rose from her seat and
went aft. She returned with a large basin which she offered to Mitford.
He gave her such a disgusted look that she started to apologize.
"I was only trying to be helpful."
"He's teasing you, Leila,' said Kris.
"Maybe I'm not,' Mitford said, staring down at the basin.
"Are you claustrophobic?" Kris murmured.
He nodded.
"Oh,' she said, in as sympathetic a tone as she could manage.
No wonder he hadn't been so keen to fly in Baby.
"The way the Tub is moving, serge,' Joe said in a very cheerful tone, 'we'll
be there in no time at all. No time at all!'
"Just think of it, Chuck . . ."
Mitford put a hasty hand on Kris's shoulder. 'Don't . . . use that
particular word, will you?" 'Ooops, but you are first to cross this channel,
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or strait, or whatever it is. Can we name it after you?"
'Huh?" The sergeant regarded her with startled eyes; then he realized she was
trying to divert him and managed a grin. 'I'll be all right.
There's still some view left . . ." But the waves washed up over the
windscreen and he hastily looked away from their activity.
The crossing was completed in just under two Catteni-style hours as marked by
the timepiece set in the control panel. The Tub trundled out onto a sandy
beach, dotted with the same sort of shrubs that grew on its neighbour.
"Clams, too,' said Astrid, pointing to the air holes as they all emerged from
the Tub, once again flushing out the 'newness' smells.
"We get some?" she asked Mitford.
"There's plenty of time,' he said, shading his eyes to glance up the slope
that led inland. Then he glanced down at the map he had taken from his pocket
and unfolded it. 'We're about here,' he said, pointing and then cocking his
finger due west. 'Should be higher ground this way. Zainal, Kris, Astrid,
Bjorn, Whitby - let's have a bit of a recon." And he strode forward. 'Joe,
you're in charge of the Tub,' he added.
When they reached the first height and had an overview, there were
green-covered stretches in either direction and right back to the distant
hills.
"Like loo-cow pastures,' Bjorn said, pausing to dig a toe through the
vegetation to the soil beneath. Little many-legged things burrowed deeper,
away from the air. 'Good dirt,' he added, pinching some between his fingers
and letting it sift back down. Neatly, he stepped on the divot he had made.
"Think the Farmers'd notice if we rustled some of their steers?" Kris
asked, wondering what else was hidden in the soil here.
"No such insects in loo-cow pastures,' Bjorn added. 'May be no night-crawls,
too." Kris looked around her. 'We should be so lucky."
She tried to remember what she'd learned in geography about terrain.
"This looks exactly like the landscape over there,' and she pointed over her [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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