Read Online Brightsuit MacBear by L. Neil Smith - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: L. Neil Smith
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Coming of Age, liberty, pallas, probability broach, tom paine maru
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look. “Get yourself a gun, since you’re not wearing one, leave most of your money aboard ship in a nice safe bank account, and keep your spare hand on your wallet, anyway.”
“Thanks,” Berdan replied. “I already have too much gun, which I don’t know how to use, will probably need all my money down on Majesty, and, as for spare hands…” He held his up, both of which were full of luggage.
The girl smiled and shook her head. “Well in that case, take any of those Broach booths over there, deposit three silver ounces, and tell the implant receptor where you want to go. In theory, you’ll come out in another booth, exactly like that one, at the other end.”
“Thanks,” Berdan replied. “Especially for the ‘in theory.’ I really needed that. Uh, do you happen to have change for a gold two-ounce superlysander?”
“Nothing’s ever easy with you, is it?” She accepted the massive coin from Berdan, one of the three he’d offered Spoonbender, handed him his change—a great deal of it—and a plastic company token.
“Something they won’t tell you in the tourist brochures because it’s bad for business: watch out for rats. They don’t have any natural enemies down there, and the population’s exploded, like rabbits in Australia. Now take that to the nearest unoccupied booth, insert it in the lighted slot, and off you go.”
And good riddance , Berdan was certain she was thinking. He always seemed to affect girls that way.
He mumbled thanks and followed her instructions. Finding an unoccupied booth was easy, he walked over to the nearest one, set his bag down, slid the transparent folding door back, picked up his bag again and entered the confined space. Setting the bag down once more, he slid the door closed behind him.
On the left wall, a small slot lit up, and he “heard” a voice via his implant. “ Please insert token and specify destination .”
Talisman , he thought, making sure he had both bags in hand again. I’ll try to take the rest by easy stages. Guard your wallet. Learn to shoot. Watch out for rats .
A small display confirmed his destination had been entered. He inserted the token.
Before him, a blinding, brilliant blue dot appeared on the opposite wall. It expanded into a blue-edged circle which grew until it met the metal edges of the booth. The receiver must have been outdoors: through the aperture he could see the dirt roads, boardwalks, and makeshift buildings of a typical new-colony town.
Ready or not, Dalmeon Geanar, here I come!
He took a breath and stepped forward.
Before his right foot entered the Broach—and before he could stop himself—something crackled.
The picture blurred and shifted.
Berdan pitched forward into a sea of small green leaves and sank in over his head.
As he’d feared, he’d fallen on his face—
And into a hole.
Chapter VII: The Sea of Leaves
It was like being dropped into a room full of bright green ping-pong balls.
Berdan didn’t sink far into the leafy morass, but without any place to plant his feet, nowhere he could push with his hands, he found he couldn’t stand up again. Instead, all he could do was lie on his back, helpless and floundering.
Overhead, the sky of Majesty was a bright and cloudless blue. Everything else, as far as he could see (which, lying in this position, wasn’t far) was an endless ocean of green, every possible shade and hue and saturation. Scattered here and there among the leaves were clusters of small, rather disappointed-looking pale green flowers and clumps of berries of about the same size and color.
The air was hot and damp.
All about him wafted the smells of lush vegetation, the sharp tang of the leaves and stems he’d broken, the sweeter breath of new growth, the richer, loamy odor—swampy, like that of just-picked mushrooms—of whatever lay beneath. He dreaded sinking into that organic-smelling darkness, never to resurface.
According to everything he’d seen and heard, the mossy
“Thanks,” Berdan replied. “I already have too much gun, which I don’t know how to use, will probably need all my money down on Majesty, and, as for spare hands…” He held his up, both of which were full of luggage.
The girl smiled and shook her head. “Well in that case, take any of those Broach booths over there, deposit three silver ounces, and tell the implant receptor where you want to go. In theory, you’ll come out in another booth, exactly like that one, at the other end.”
“Thanks,” Berdan replied. “Especially for the ‘in theory.’ I really needed that. Uh, do you happen to have change for a gold two-ounce superlysander?”
“Nothing’s ever easy with you, is it?” She accepted the massive coin from Berdan, one of the three he’d offered Spoonbender, handed him his change—a great deal of it—and a plastic company token.
“Something they won’t tell you in the tourist brochures because it’s bad for business: watch out for rats. They don’t have any natural enemies down there, and the population’s exploded, like rabbits in Australia. Now take that to the nearest unoccupied booth, insert it in the lighted slot, and off you go.”
And good riddance , Berdan was certain she was thinking. He always seemed to affect girls that way.
He mumbled thanks and followed her instructions. Finding an unoccupied booth was easy, he walked over to the nearest one, set his bag down, slid the transparent folding door back, picked up his bag again and entered the confined space. Setting the bag down once more, he slid the door closed behind him.
On the left wall, a small slot lit up, and he “heard” a voice via his implant. “ Please insert token and specify destination .”
Talisman , he thought, making sure he had both bags in hand again. I’ll try to take the rest by easy stages. Guard your wallet. Learn to shoot. Watch out for rats .
A small display confirmed his destination had been entered. He inserted the token.
Before him, a blinding, brilliant blue dot appeared on the opposite wall. It expanded into a blue-edged circle which grew until it met the metal edges of the booth. The receiver must have been outdoors: through the aperture he could see the dirt roads, boardwalks, and makeshift buildings of a typical new-colony town.
Ready or not, Dalmeon Geanar, here I come!
He took a breath and stepped forward.
Before his right foot entered the Broach—and before he could stop himself—something crackled.
The picture blurred and shifted.
Berdan pitched forward into a sea of small green leaves and sank in over his head.
As he’d feared, he’d fallen on his face—
And into a hole.
Chapter VII: The Sea of Leaves
It was like being dropped into a room full of bright green ping-pong balls.
Berdan didn’t sink far into the leafy morass, but without any place to plant his feet, nowhere he could push with his hands, he found he couldn’t stand up again. Instead, all he could do was lie on his back, helpless and floundering.
Overhead, the sky of Majesty was a bright and cloudless blue. Everything else, as far as he could see (which, lying in this position, wasn’t far) was an endless ocean of green, every possible shade and hue and saturation. Scattered here and there among the leaves were clusters of small, rather disappointed-looking pale green flowers and clumps of berries of about the same size and color.
The air was hot and damp.
All about him wafted the smells of lush vegetation, the sharp tang of the leaves and stems he’d broken, the sweeter breath of new growth, the richer, loamy odor—swampy, like that of just-picked mushrooms—of whatever lay beneath. He dreaded sinking into that organic-smelling darkness, never to resurface.
According to everything he’d seen and heard, the mossy
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