Read Online Mars Prime by William C. Dietz - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: William C. Dietz
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touch. Everything except the outside hull metal. That was cold, very cold, and water had a tendency to condense on its surface, form blobs, break away, and disappear into the maws of the multitudinous robots that wove their way in and out of the metal maze.
Corvan ducked under an especially low beam, searched for a handhold, and pulled. The beam scraped the length of his body.
Was it just his imagination? Or was the crawl space getting smaller? Maybe it had something to do with the curvature of the hull, with the way that the drive tubes came straight down along the ship's axis, or the fact that the people who had designed the damned thing were safely ensconced in their offices back on Earth. But whatever it was had started to bug him.
The reop could sense the metal that pressed in from every side, could imagine the snap of a support beam, and could feel the enormous weight that would crush him against the deck.
Corvan knew that his fears were groundless, knew the support beam wouldn't snap, but the feeling persisted.
He paused, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and waited for Dr. B's high-tops to disappear through the hole up ahead. The truth was that he was afraid, very afraid, and wanted to turn back.
The feeling was nothing new. He'd experienced it many times before. First during childish exploits, then in the Army, and countless times as a reop. There was a solution though, a trick that he'd used in the past and might work again.
Corvan activated his implant and forced himself to narrate what he saw. "At this point Dr. McKeen and I are making our way through the accessway that spirals around G-deck. The power plants are to my left, along with the drive tubes that propel us through space and a lot of ancillary equipment. The hull is to my right and wet with condensed water vapor. You can see the little robots that work to gobble it up.
"Dr. McKeen is just aheadâI think you can see the soles of her shoes disappearing under that low archâ and I'm doing my best to follow. Unfortunately my larger size makes travel a bit difficultâwait a minute, there, now I can pull myself upright."
Corvan grabbed onto a beam, panned from left to right, and showed his audience a cave-like area lit by distant lights and filled with mysterious shadows. The shot came to rest on McKeen, who had paused for a moment in order to consult a schematic. The framing looked good.
Not only that, but the fear had disappeared, just as he had hoped that it might. There was something about the role of professional observer that lifted him above the reach of his own fear and surrounded him with a wall of psychological invulnerability. The feeling was false, and a part of him knew that, but he felt better anyway. Corvan resumed his narration.
"Somewhere up ahead, or so the theory goes, we'll find the thing or things that cause the mysterious booming noise."
And then, as if to prove that the gods of journalism truly exist and were feeling generous, an enormous boom sounded. It was loud enough to vibrate the metal around them and force Corvan to cover his ears. The reop drifted for a moment but found a new handhold.
"And that," Corvan said as the sound died away, "is the sound in question. What makes it and why? Those are the questions that brought us here, and it seems as if the answers are just ahead."
Dr. B. put the schematic away, grinned, and waved Corvan forward. "We're closer! Come on!"
Corvan let the natural sound and pictures supplied by his eye cam speak for themselves as he followed the geologist through a forest of vertical supports and out into an open spaceâan area that must be located at the ship's extreme stern end or very close to it.
What they saw stunned them both. The contraption was huge. It consisted of a large metal sheet, held in place by four cables, and covered with some sort of script. A mechanical arm stood at right angles to the piece of metal, had obviously been in contact with it, and was in the
Corvan ducked under an especially low beam, searched for a handhold, and pulled. The beam scraped the length of his body.
Was it just his imagination? Or was the crawl space getting smaller? Maybe it had something to do with the curvature of the hull, with the way that the drive tubes came straight down along the ship's axis, or the fact that the people who had designed the damned thing were safely ensconced in their offices back on Earth. But whatever it was had started to bug him.
The reop could sense the metal that pressed in from every side, could imagine the snap of a support beam, and could feel the enormous weight that would crush him against the deck.
Corvan knew that his fears were groundless, knew the support beam wouldn't snap, but the feeling persisted.
He paused, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and waited for Dr. B's high-tops to disappear through the hole up ahead. The truth was that he was afraid, very afraid, and wanted to turn back.
The feeling was nothing new. He'd experienced it many times before. First during childish exploits, then in the Army, and countless times as a reop. There was a solution though, a trick that he'd used in the past and might work again.
Corvan activated his implant and forced himself to narrate what he saw. "At this point Dr. McKeen and I are making our way through the accessway that spirals around G-deck. The power plants are to my left, along with the drive tubes that propel us through space and a lot of ancillary equipment. The hull is to my right and wet with condensed water vapor. You can see the little robots that work to gobble it up.
"Dr. McKeen is just aheadâI think you can see the soles of her shoes disappearing under that low archâ and I'm doing my best to follow. Unfortunately my larger size makes travel a bit difficultâwait a minute, there, now I can pull myself upright."
Corvan grabbed onto a beam, panned from left to right, and showed his audience a cave-like area lit by distant lights and filled with mysterious shadows. The shot came to rest on McKeen, who had paused for a moment in order to consult a schematic. The framing looked good.
Not only that, but the fear had disappeared, just as he had hoped that it might. There was something about the role of professional observer that lifted him above the reach of his own fear and surrounded him with a wall of psychological invulnerability. The feeling was false, and a part of him knew that, but he felt better anyway. Corvan resumed his narration.
"Somewhere up ahead, or so the theory goes, we'll find the thing or things that cause the mysterious booming noise."
And then, as if to prove that the gods of journalism truly exist and were feeling generous, an enormous boom sounded. It was loud enough to vibrate the metal around them and force Corvan to cover his ears. The reop drifted for a moment but found a new handhold.
"And that," Corvan said as the sound died away, "is the sound in question. What makes it and why? Those are the questions that brought us here, and it seems as if the answers are just ahead."
Dr. B. put the schematic away, grinned, and waved Corvan forward. "We're closer! Come on!"
Corvan let the natural sound and pictures supplied by his eye cam speak for themselves as he followed the geologist through a forest of vertical supports and out into an open spaceâan area that must be located at the ship's extreme stern end or very close to it.
What they saw stunned them both. The contraption was huge. It consisted of a large metal sheet, held in place by four cables, and covered with some sort of script. A mechanical arm stood at right angles to the piece of metal, had obviously been in contact with it, and was in the
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