Read Online Bowl of Heaven by Gregory Benford and Larry Niven - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gregory Benford and Larry Niven
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reflecting the sunlight back, inward, onto the star. That’s what causes the hot spot.”
Beth nodded, awed. Yes—otherwise the huge curved mirrors would have blinded them instantly.
They slewed to the side, turning, the screens taking in, across the immense celestial curvature, hazy tinctures of … green. She zoomed the scopes pointing inward along the great spherical cap. The lower latitudes of the inner bowl teemed with intensely green territories and washes of blue water. Lakes—no, oceans. The eye could not quite grasp what it saw. They were cruising along near the jet axis, and before them unfurled a landscape of arcing grandeur.
Beth calculated angles and distances. Any of the grid sections had a larger surface than the entire Earth. Each boasted intricate detail, webs strung among green brown continents and spacious seas, framing immense areas.
And her vision was all getting foggy with fatigue. Aches seeped through her.
“I’ve had enough,” Beth said. “Climbing up that jet burned away our velocity enough. The bowl and star system were moving pretty fast, and now we’re in their rest frame. We’re marginally trapped in the potential well of that star.”
Captain Redwing said, “You what?”
“Captain—”
“No, it’s okay, I get it,” he said suddenly. “The scale of this thing, it’s just mind-scrambling, Beth. The bowl is the size of a little solar system, right, and you can just leave the ship circling the sun, right? Are we too close? Will we heat up too much?”
“We’ll be okay.” She visibly straightened, her pale lips firming. One last effort. “I’ll leave the ramscoop idling, keeping the fields high, so we won’t be sprayed with radiation. It runs rough that way, but we have no choice. We’ve matched velocities with the system, so it’ll be months before we could be in trouble. We’ll be in an eccentric orbit, right, Abduss? I’ll be back at the controls before anything can happen, but somebody stay on trajectory watch, please.”
Redwing looked puzzled.
Beth gave him a weak smile. “I’m going to sleep.”
She staggered out. Behind her she heard Redwing’s, “How can anyone leave this ?”
And then Cliff was with her, guiding her, but lurching a little himself.
FOUR
Beth thrashed and jerked awake. The hammock shuddered. Her legs and arms were cramping from armpit to fingertips, hip to toes.
The dream faded. The controls weren’t under her hands; the ship wasn’t roaring through a plume of star-hot plasma. She hugged herself and tried to sleep. Cliff wasn’t there. How long had she been sleeping?
Presently she gave up and went to the bridge, her boots thumping, bringing her fully awake. Her hands were trembling, though. Not what you want in a pilot …
“Hi,” Cliff said, grinning. “Redwing left me on watch. Abduss is computing an orbit for us, unless he flaked out, too.”
Beth was famished. She got out bread and fruit and ate as she watched the displays. She was just a little jealous of the others, who must have been watching for hours. And it was glorious.
Structures fanned out from the Knothole. She was now watching from the other side, gazing down at a vast sprawl. Her eyes kept tricking her, making her think this was all nearby, like looking down on Earth … but she was gazing over interplanetary distances. The tubing around the Knothole must be tremendous, the size of continents.
Far below the ship stretched away the wok-shaped mirrored shell, faring into a ring of green-tinged ocher. Between SunSeeker and those lands was a shimmering layer—atmosphere, she guessed. Held in … how? She squinted and thought she could catch a sheen, the star reflecting from some transparent barrier. A membrane? She squinted at what seemed like millions of square kilometers of clear plastic sandwich wrap. The diffuse layer stretched away toward the distance, where she saw the lands of the belt—the great cylindrical section that formed the thick rim
Beth nodded, awed. Yes—otherwise the huge curved mirrors would have blinded them instantly.
They slewed to the side, turning, the screens taking in, across the immense celestial curvature, hazy tinctures of … green. She zoomed the scopes pointing inward along the great spherical cap. The lower latitudes of the inner bowl teemed with intensely green territories and washes of blue water. Lakes—no, oceans. The eye could not quite grasp what it saw. They were cruising along near the jet axis, and before them unfurled a landscape of arcing grandeur.
Beth calculated angles and distances. Any of the grid sections had a larger surface than the entire Earth. Each boasted intricate detail, webs strung among green brown continents and spacious seas, framing immense areas.
And her vision was all getting foggy with fatigue. Aches seeped through her.
“I’ve had enough,” Beth said. “Climbing up that jet burned away our velocity enough. The bowl and star system were moving pretty fast, and now we’re in their rest frame. We’re marginally trapped in the potential well of that star.”
Captain Redwing said, “You what?”
“Captain—”
“No, it’s okay, I get it,” he said suddenly. “The scale of this thing, it’s just mind-scrambling, Beth. The bowl is the size of a little solar system, right, and you can just leave the ship circling the sun, right? Are we too close? Will we heat up too much?”
“We’ll be okay.” She visibly straightened, her pale lips firming. One last effort. “I’ll leave the ramscoop idling, keeping the fields high, so we won’t be sprayed with radiation. It runs rough that way, but we have no choice. We’ve matched velocities with the system, so it’ll be months before we could be in trouble. We’ll be in an eccentric orbit, right, Abduss? I’ll be back at the controls before anything can happen, but somebody stay on trajectory watch, please.”
Redwing looked puzzled.
Beth gave him a weak smile. “I’m going to sleep.”
She staggered out. Behind her she heard Redwing’s, “How can anyone leave this ?”
And then Cliff was with her, guiding her, but lurching a little himself.
FOUR
Beth thrashed and jerked awake. The hammock shuddered. Her legs and arms were cramping from armpit to fingertips, hip to toes.
The dream faded. The controls weren’t under her hands; the ship wasn’t roaring through a plume of star-hot plasma. She hugged herself and tried to sleep. Cliff wasn’t there. How long had she been sleeping?
Presently she gave up and went to the bridge, her boots thumping, bringing her fully awake. Her hands were trembling, though. Not what you want in a pilot …
“Hi,” Cliff said, grinning. “Redwing left me on watch. Abduss is computing an orbit for us, unless he flaked out, too.”
Beth was famished. She got out bread and fruit and ate as she watched the displays. She was just a little jealous of the others, who must have been watching for hours. And it was glorious.
Structures fanned out from the Knothole. She was now watching from the other side, gazing down at a vast sprawl. Her eyes kept tricking her, making her think this was all nearby, like looking down on Earth … but she was gazing over interplanetary distances. The tubing around the Knothole must be tremendous, the size of continents.
Far below the ship stretched away the wok-shaped mirrored shell, faring into a ring of green-tinged ocher. Between SunSeeker and those lands was a shimmering layer—atmosphere, she guessed. Held in … how? She squinted and thought she could catch a sheen, the star reflecting from some transparent barrier. A membrane? She squinted at what seemed like millions of square kilometers of clear plastic sandwich wrap. The diffuse layer stretched away toward the distance, where she saw the lands of the belt—the great cylindrical section that formed the thick rim
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