Read Online Logos Run by William C. Dietz - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William C. Dietz
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gloried in the dark arts, and God struck them down! So teach the Book of Abominations to your children, and do battle with your unclean thoughts, or give yourself to the flames of purification.
—Grand Vizier Imbo Moratano, Church of the Antitechnic God
One hundred and fourteen people, that was how many crowded their way into the shuttle and were forced to stand shoulder to shoulder as the ship forced its way up through Thara’s atmosphere. Some of them cheered, some of them cried, and at least a dozen threw up as the shuttle left the planet’s gravity well. Had they been free to do so, the passengers would have free-floated through a galaxy of vomit globules. But the tightly packed bodies held the travelers in place, and while that was claustrophobic, it helped to prevent injuries. Those who knew to do so wore bandit-style bandannas that filtered most of the vomit out of the air. But no one could completely escape the vile mist that found its way into their hair and clothes.
Fortunately, the trip was relatively short, which meant that after only a few hours of suffering, Shewhoswims guided the tiny extension of herself into an open docking bay. There was the barely heard whine of hidden machinery, followed by the sudden restoration of gravity, and a dull thud as the transport was captured and locked into place. “And here it is,” Rebo said to no one in particular. “Home sweet home.”
An especially long five minutes passed before servos whined, the aft hatch hit the deck outside, and those closest to the opening were given access to the ship’s decontamination chamber. It was smaller than the shuttle’s cargo bay, so only a third of the passengers could enter before the hatch closed and a thick mist fogged the air. The runner, sensitive, and heavy had been expecting the antibacterial spray, but some of their fellow passengers weren’t. Some screamed and started to thrash about, while others attempted to calm them. Rebo took the opportunity to confer with his companions. “I figure about thirty to thirty-five members of the Circus Solara were on the shuttle. Maybe half that number are here in the decontamination chamber. It’s pretty clear that the whole group has been planet-hopping for years— and is familiar with the way the ships operate. That’s why I expect the advance party to make a run for the hold, secure a corner, and wait for the rest to arrive with the baggage.”
“That’s what I would do,” Hoggles agreed stolidly. “And it will work. They have more arms and legs than any other group aboard.”
“Exactly,” Rebo agreed. “And once they get established, they’ll come after us. So, rather than grab a wall slot or try for a corner, I suggest that we seize control of the water supply instead.”
Norr was visibly surprised. “But that’s public property! No one does that.”
“Oh, they try,” the runner replied. “I encountered the problem once. A group of toughs set up camp right in front of the faucet and charged each passenger a gunnar per bucket of water, until the rest of the passengers banded together and put a stop to it. Five people were killed during the battle.”
Hoggles frowned. “So why would we want to put ourselves in a position to get killed?”
“We’ll go about it differently,” Rebo answered. “Rather than demand money from our fellow passengers, we’ll provide them with water for free so long as they don’t attack us. But if they do, we’ll cut them off.”
“You’re pretty smart for a norm,” Norr said admiringly. “No wonder I hang out with you!”
“You may feel differently later on,” the runner replied soberly. “It won’t be easy to guard that faucet constantly. . . . But it’s worth a try.”
The heavy nodded. “So, what happens when the hatch opens?”
“Lonni and I will make a run for the hold,” Rebo replied, as the mist began to dissipate. “You bring up the rear with the packs, or if they’re too
—Grand Vizier Imbo Moratano, Church of the Antitechnic God
One hundred and fourteen people, that was how many crowded their way into the shuttle and were forced to stand shoulder to shoulder as the ship forced its way up through Thara’s atmosphere. Some of them cheered, some of them cried, and at least a dozen threw up as the shuttle left the planet’s gravity well. Had they been free to do so, the passengers would have free-floated through a galaxy of vomit globules. But the tightly packed bodies held the travelers in place, and while that was claustrophobic, it helped to prevent injuries. Those who knew to do so wore bandit-style bandannas that filtered most of the vomit out of the air. But no one could completely escape the vile mist that found its way into their hair and clothes.
Fortunately, the trip was relatively short, which meant that after only a few hours of suffering, Shewhoswims guided the tiny extension of herself into an open docking bay. There was the barely heard whine of hidden machinery, followed by the sudden restoration of gravity, and a dull thud as the transport was captured and locked into place. “And here it is,” Rebo said to no one in particular. “Home sweet home.”
An especially long five minutes passed before servos whined, the aft hatch hit the deck outside, and those closest to the opening were given access to the ship’s decontamination chamber. It was smaller than the shuttle’s cargo bay, so only a third of the passengers could enter before the hatch closed and a thick mist fogged the air. The runner, sensitive, and heavy had been expecting the antibacterial spray, but some of their fellow passengers weren’t. Some screamed and started to thrash about, while others attempted to calm them. Rebo took the opportunity to confer with his companions. “I figure about thirty to thirty-five members of the Circus Solara were on the shuttle. Maybe half that number are here in the decontamination chamber. It’s pretty clear that the whole group has been planet-hopping for years— and is familiar with the way the ships operate. That’s why I expect the advance party to make a run for the hold, secure a corner, and wait for the rest to arrive with the baggage.”
“That’s what I would do,” Hoggles agreed stolidly. “And it will work. They have more arms and legs than any other group aboard.”
“Exactly,” Rebo agreed. “And once they get established, they’ll come after us. So, rather than grab a wall slot or try for a corner, I suggest that we seize control of the water supply instead.”
Norr was visibly surprised. “But that’s public property! No one does that.”
“Oh, they try,” the runner replied. “I encountered the problem once. A group of toughs set up camp right in front of the faucet and charged each passenger a gunnar per bucket of water, until the rest of the passengers banded together and put a stop to it. Five people were killed during the battle.”
Hoggles frowned. “So why would we want to put ourselves in a position to get killed?”
“We’ll go about it differently,” Rebo answered. “Rather than demand money from our fellow passengers, we’ll provide them with water for free so long as they don’t attack us. But if they do, we’ll cut them off.”
“You’re pretty smart for a norm,” Norr said admiringly. “No wonder I hang out with you!”
“You may feel differently later on,” the runner replied soberly. “It won’t be easy to guard that faucet constantly. . . . But it’s worth a try.”
The heavy nodded. “So, what happens when the hatch opens?”
“Lonni and I will make a run for the hold,” Rebo replied, as the mist began to dissipate. “You bring up the rear with the packs, or if they’re too
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