Read Online Trident's Forge by Patrick S Tomlinson - Free Book Online

undercarriage had been designed with improvised fields in mind.
    Benson’s kidneys and spine, however, had not. The vibrations grew as the Discovery picked up speed, causing his teeth to clatter together and sending his eyes bouncing around in their sockets. Relief and anxiety fought it out in Benson’s stomach when the lumbering giant finally did lift off from the ground and take to the air. Anxiety won as the shuttle pitched upward and threw him into his seat, clawing for altitude.
    â€œYou’re looking pale, chief,” Korolev said. “Need a bag?”
    Benson shook his head and squeezed his eyes tighter. A small tremor passed through the fuselage as the shuttle slipped past the sound barrier and continued piling on airspeed.
    The hull creaked a bit as the turbines were spooled down and the scramjets came online. This was followed by another round of acceleration. Even through his nervousness, Benson couldn’t help but be impressed. The only other time he’d been strapped into the bird, it had been for the reentry flight. There was no acceleration then. Indeed, the shuttle’s engines had only been powered up during the descent to the landing strip in case of emergency.
    The shuttle was immensely powerful. The only thing in his experience that matched it had been the month they’d all lived through after the Ark had flipped over to decelerate for Gaia, a pulse of atomic explosions going off every other second for weeks. The entire population had lived crowded onto the surface of Avalon module’s forward bulkhead. Thirty thousand people stumbling around on 3.14 square kilometers, living in overcrowded apartments set ninety degrees in the wrong direction, eating nothing more glamorous than algae and tofu rations and fighting lines at the toilets during the trio of hour-long breaks they were afforded each day.
    It wasn’t a fond memory for most.
    The weight pressing on Benson’s chest eased as the shuttle reached its cruising altitude and speed. Soon thereafter, the pilot got on the intercom and announced that everyone was free to unbuckle their webs and move about the cabin. Benson pulled out a tablet and passed the time watching highlights of old NFL games, looking for new plays and defensive arrangements for the Mustangs to try out in practice.
    [Important Implant Software Update, Fixes Audio Integration Bug #3947-B-56. Install Now?]
    The alert floated in the augmented reality environment in Benson’s field of vision. Audio bug? Was that the infernal ticking sound he’d been hearing for the last week?
     he thought. The update downloaded, and the slight but persistent tick disappeared.
    The flight was short. Almost as soon as Benson’s anxiety had returned to a manageable level, the pilot got on the PA system and announced that they were beginning their descent and to get back in their webs. The engine whine dulled as the pilot throttled back. Benson’s stomach lurched with the shuttle as it pitched into a shallow dive.
    â€œNothing to worry about, chief.” Korolev cinched up his lap belt. “We’ll be on the ground in ten minutes.”
    â€œThat’s a little vague, don’t you think?”
    Korolev just smiled and shook his head. “No pleasing some people.”
    Benson gritted his teeth and focused on his breathing, his mission with Mei and the Unbound, his team’s troublesome third-down conversion rate in practice, basically anything but the rapidly approaching ground.
    â€œCan you turn on the window panel?” Korolev asked.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œC’mon, chief. You’re keeping your eyes closed anyway.”
    â€œAre you going to continue pestering me like a poorly disciplined five year-old until I relent?”
    Korolev pondered this. “That seems probable.”
    â€œOf course it does.” Benson reached over and switched the virtual reality display back on. The shuttle’s hull had