Read Online Tales of the Flying Mountains by Poul Anderson - Free Book Online

was peculiarly intense. “Cryotronic systems are vulnerable to magnetic and radiation disturbances.”
    â€œUh-huh. That’s one reason we don’t have a nuclear power plant. This far from the sun, we don’t get enough emission to worry about. The asteroid’s mass screens out what little may arrive. I know the TIMM system is used on ships; but if nothing else, the initial cost is more than we want to pay.”
    â€œWhat’s TIMM?” inquired the Altair’s chaplain.
    â€œThermally Integrated Micro-Miniaturized,” Ellen said crisply. “Essentially, ultraminiaturized ceramic-to-metal-seal vacuum tubes running off thermionic generators. They’re immune to gamma ray and magnetic pulses, easily shielded against particle radiation, and economical of power.” She grinned. “Don’t tell me there s nothing about them in Leviticus, Padre!”
    â€œVery fine for a ship’s autopilot,” Blades agreed. “But as I said, we needn’t worry about rad or mag units here, we don’t mind sprawling a bit, and as for thermal efficiency, we want to waste some heat. It goes to maintain internal temperature.
    â€œIn other words, efficiency depends on what you need to effish,” Ellen bantered. She grew grave once more and studied him for a while before she mused, “The same person who swung a pick, a couple of years ago, now deals with something as marvelous as this.…” He forgot about worrying.
    But he remembered later, when the gig had left and Chung called him to his office. Avis came too, by request. As she entered, she asked why.
    â€œYou were visiting your folks Earthside last year,” Chung said. “Nobody else in the station has been back as recently as that.”
    â€œWhat can I tell you?”
    â€œI’m not sure. Background, perhaps. The feel of the place. We don’t really know, out in the Belt, what’s going on there. The beamcast news is hardly a trickle. Besides, you have more common sense in your left little toe than that big mick yonder has in his entire copper-plated head.”
    They seated themselves in the cobwebby low-gee chairs around Chung’s desk. Blades took out his pipe and filled the bowl with his tobacco ration for the day, Wouldn’t it be great , he thought dreamily, if this old briar turned out to be an Aladdin’s lamp, and the smoke condensed into a blonde she-Canadian ——
    â€œWake up, will you?” Chung barked.
    â€œHuh?” Blades started. “Oh. Sure. What’s the matter? You look like a fish on Friday.”
    â€œMaybe with reason. Did you notice anything unusual with that party you were escorting?”
    â€œYes, indeed.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œAbout one hundred seventy-five centimeters tall, yellow hair, blue eyes, and some of the smoothest fourth-order curves I ever——”
    â€œMike, stop that!” Avis sounded appalled. “This is serious.”
    â€œI agree. She’ll be leaving in a few more watches.”
    The girl bit her lip. “You’re too old for that mooncalf rot and you know it.”
    â€œAgreed again. I feel more like a bull.” Blades made pawing motions on the desktop.
    â€œThere’s a lady present,” Chung said.
    Blades saw that Avis had gone quite pale. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I never thought … I mean, you’ve always seemed like——”
    â€œOne of the boys,” she finished for him in a brittle tone. “Sure. Forget it. What’s the problem, Jimmy?”
    Chung folded his hands and stared at them. “I can’t quite define that,” he answered, word by careful word. “Perhaps I’ve simply gone spacedizzy. But when we talked with Admiral Hulse, didn’t you get the impression of, well, wariness? Didn’t he seem to be watching and probing, every minute we were together?”
    â€œI wouldn’t call him a