Read Online Storm Over Saturn by Mack Maloney - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mack Maloney
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face.
"We told Hawk about the Big Generator," he said. "And the SSG's plans for it. And what can happen if they succeed in their plans or if they screw it up. We told him how he can navigate the dizzylando, and what he should look for once he is down there."
"All true," one of the UPF officers said. "What is your concern then?"
Erikk thought for a long moment and then looked up at them.
"Did we forget to tell him about the blinks?" he asked.
Part Two
When Russians Dream
3
The noise was horrible.
Screaming…
Like high winds.
Like endless static.
Like he was back in Purgatory, hearing the cries of the dead again, just this time, at very high speed.
He had to shut them out, but it was so cramped inside the DATT tube, there wasn't enough room for him to raise his hands to put over his ears—if he had hands and ears, that is. That was also very distressing. He had no ears, so really he couldn't hear anything. He had no mouth, so he couldn't cry out. He had no hands, no feet, nothing to feel, nothing to feel with. But the screaming was still there.
It was the darkness that was the worst though. The DATT tube had just a slit for a window; it was no more than a half inch wide and barely four inches across. But it did him no good because he had no eyes, and so, he could not see.
He didn't know what he'd expected, as his body was taken apart and put back together several trillion times a second—this was how it made its way along the vibration net of the universal superstrings. Had he hoped to see stars flashing by? Or planets? Or some kind of new, uncharted celestial phenomena? Or perhaps a glimpse of the nanoworlds of subatoms and quicks, quacks, and quarks?
He wasn't sure. But in the end, he saw nothing at all during the transfer. Nothing but complete darkness. And it didn't help when halfway through, he imagined, in one tril-lionth of a trillionth of a second, that the sides of the tube were lined with crushed velvet cloth, not the old wrinkly plastic sheeting that had covered the interior when they first locked him inside this infernal box. And the smell, even though he had no nose, was that of spring lilies, favorite flower of the dead.
He was sure something had gone wrong. DATT transfers were supposed to be instantaneous, at least way back when this piece of crap technology was first built. But now, to Hunter's psyche, it seemed to keep going on and on and on…
Just when he was convinced that the DATT had indeed malfunctioned and he was now doomed to stay like this forever—cramped, in the dark, disassembled, with the eternal screaming taunting him—it all stopped.
Just stopped…
• • •
Dust…
He kicked up a mighty cloud of it on his arrival. A bit of light came through that tiny slit of a window now; that's how he knew he had his eyes back. But for the first few seconds, all Hunter could see was a blizzard of white powder on the other side, thick as snow, swirling past. What to do? He couldn't open the hatch. The dust would come in and smother him. He had no choice but to wait, hoping for it to disperse. Only then would he be able see exactly where he was.
He spent the next few moments checking his person, especially his appendages. It was a big surprise, but everything seemed to have survived the DATT transfer in good shape. He let out a long, slow breath of triumph. When he looked up again, the dust had settled, and his field of vision had cleared.
But he was shocked by what he saw. He'd been expecting to be transferred to an inhabited body. He'd just assumed he'd see a city, a settlement, a Ferris wheel—something that would confirm that he'd landed on the Alpha Moon. But the landscape he saw now through the tiny window was as barren as Earth's moon. Craters, valleys, high mountains, deep ravines, lots of dust—and absolutely no signs of life. Or atmosphere.
Am I in the right place?
He crossed his fingers and kicked opened the DATT's hatch. He'd arrived on the edge of a large impact
"We told Hawk about the Big Generator," he said. "And the SSG's plans for it. And what can happen if they succeed in their plans or if they screw it up. We told him how he can navigate the dizzylando, and what he should look for once he is down there."
"All true," one of the UPF officers said. "What is your concern then?"
Erikk thought for a long moment and then looked up at them.
"Did we forget to tell him about the blinks?" he asked.
Part Two
When Russians Dream
3
The noise was horrible.
Screaming…
Like high winds.
Like endless static.
Like he was back in Purgatory, hearing the cries of the dead again, just this time, at very high speed.
He had to shut them out, but it was so cramped inside the DATT tube, there wasn't enough room for him to raise his hands to put over his ears—if he had hands and ears, that is. That was also very distressing. He had no ears, so really he couldn't hear anything. He had no mouth, so he couldn't cry out. He had no hands, no feet, nothing to feel, nothing to feel with. But the screaming was still there.
It was the darkness that was the worst though. The DATT tube had just a slit for a window; it was no more than a half inch wide and barely four inches across. But it did him no good because he had no eyes, and so, he could not see.
He didn't know what he'd expected, as his body was taken apart and put back together several trillion times a second—this was how it made its way along the vibration net of the universal superstrings. Had he hoped to see stars flashing by? Or planets? Or some kind of new, uncharted celestial phenomena? Or perhaps a glimpse of the nanoworlds of subatoms and quicks, quacks, and quarks?
He wasn't sure. But in the end, he saw nothing at all during the transfer. Nothing but complete darkness. And it didn't help when halfway through, he imagined, in one tril-lionth of a trillionth of a second, that the sides of the tube were lined with crushed velvet cloth, not the old wrinkly plastic sheeting that had covered the interior when they first locked him inside this infernal box. And the smell, even though he had no nose, was that of spring lilies, favorite flower of the dead.
He was sure something had gone wrong. DATT transfers were supposed to be instantaneous, at least way back when this piece of crap technology was first built. But now, to Hunter's psyche, it seemed to keep going on and on and on…
Just when he was convinced that the DATT had indeed malfunctioned and he was now doomed to stay like this forever—cramped, in the dark, disassembled, with the eternal screaming taunting him—it all stopped.
Just stopped…
• • •
Dust…
He kicked up a mighty cloud of it on his arrival. A bit of light came through that tiny slit of a window now; that's how he knew he had his eyes back. But for the first few seconds, all Hunter could see was a blizzard of white powder on the other side, thick as snow, swirling past. What to do? He couldn't open the hatch. The dust would come in and smother him. He had no choice but to wait, hoping for it to disperse. Only then would he be able see exactly where he was.
He spent the next few moments checking his person, especially his appendages. It was a big surprise, but everything seemed to have survived the DATT transfer in good shape. He let out a long, slow breath of triumph. When he looked up again, the dust had settled, and his field of vision had cleared.
But he was shocked by what he saw. He'd been expecting to be transferred to an inhabited body. He'd just assumed he'd see a city, a settlement, a Ferris wheel—something that would confirm that he'd landed on the Alpha Moon. But the landscape he saw now through the tiny window was as barren as Earth's moon. Craters, valleys, high mountains, deep ravines, lots of dust—and absolutely no signs of life. Or atmosphere.
Am I in the right place?
He crossed his fingers and kicked opened the DATT's hatch. He'd arrived on the edge of a large impact
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