Read Online Vitals by Greg Bear - Free Book Online
Authors: Greg Bear
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Thrillers, Suspense fiction, conspiracy, Immortalism, Biotechnology, Immortality, Longevity
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overhead bar and hauled himself upside down to the hatch, then, with expert grace striking in a plump guy, swung himself around and knelt on the third couch.
"So long," he said. "Take my advice, for what it's worth. Stay away from the telephone."
Before I could react, he shinnied up the tube. I swore and went after him, but he was quick as a seal, out the hatch before I could grab an ankle.
That left me halfway in the tube, stuck at a precarious angle. My leg bent, and the sub lurched. For a moment, my up-thrust knee jammed in the pipe and I couldn't move. I struggled to drop back, and when that didn't work, to crawl higher.
I had been tamped down like a cork in a bottle.
A wave washed in through the upper hatch and swamped me. Sputtering, I pressed on my thigh with both hands and shoved the knee down hard, painfully, past a welded steel join, then squirmed to grab a rung.
I poked up through the hatch. Twilight was leaving the western sky, a lovely orange fading into blue and then black. Stars filled the zenith, visible even through the spray from swooshing and bumping whitecaps.
Dave was nowhere to be seen. Another wave almost blinded me and spun the sub around. I palmed water from my eyes and blinked at the nightmare. The Sea Messenger had come about and was backing her screws two hundred yards to starboard, whipping the sea into dancing foam.
A flare shot up from the ship's deck and arced over Mary's Triumph. They knew where I was.
"Get Dave!" I shouted, and swung my arms over my head. "Man overboard!"
Another wave loomed, a greenie so high I could see the last of the daylight through it. It smashed over the sub's tiny housing and slammed me against the metal lip. The hatch banged shut on my head and fingers. A bomb blast of pain brought on blind rage, and I slammed the hatch back once, caught it on the rebound, flung it back for a second bounce, and once more, with all my might.
Anger spent, fingers and head throbbing, I dropped and sealed the hatch. I wasn't going to take any chances with the open sea. I trembled so hard I thought I'd vibrate around the inside of the sphere. For a moment I saw Dave in the water outside the sub, thrashing and drowning, but it was only a fat little twister of bubbles. It was finished--I was going to die.
I caught myself moaning like a whipped dog, then, hearing water slosh in the bottom of the sphere, I remembered the specimens, locked safe in their drawers. My reason for being here, the reward for months of working the angel circuit. I had survived a maniac sub driver, I was afloat, I still had the prize, the putative Apple, the Golden Fleece of the Gods.
Nobody had said it was going to be easy.
I fumbled with the ship-to-ship, changing frequencies, and finally a breathless voice answered.
"Messenger here. Is that you, Dave?"
I recognized Jason, the controller and mission planner for the DSV. I pressed the mike switch. "It's Hal. Dave flaked. He's over the side. Get a Zodiac out there--he might still be afloat."
"Shit." Jason held his mike open and I thought I heard sobbing. "Are you driving the sub?"
"She's on autopilot."
"Hal, we have a bad situation. Someone's shooting up the ship. We may have casualties. Hal?"
"I'm here."
"Paul and Stan went aft about ten minutes ago. We can't go back to the crane until they check in."
"Dave went nuts, Jason," I said, eager to make clear my own tale of woe. That seemed too much for him to absorb, and I decided to skip it for the time being. "Just get me back on the ship."
"I don't know how long that will take. Hang on. We'll do our best."
"Yeah," I said, and braced my hand against the inside of the pressure sphere. The sub almost rolled over.
I buckled myself in and gripped the mike like a lifeline.
Nadia herself bobbed in the water next to the DSV and tapped the frame with a grappling hook. I waved, and she gave me a strong chin nod back, wet black hair peeking out from under her hood, black eyes distinct even behind the
"So long," he said. "Take my advice, for what it's worth. Stay away from the telephone."
Before I could react, he shinnied up the tube. I swore and went after him, but he was quick as a seal, out the hatch before I could grab an ankle.
That left me halfway in the tube, stuck at a precarious angle. My leg bent, and the sub lurched. For a moment, my up-thrust knee jammed in the pipe and I couldn't move. I struggled to drop back, and when that didn't work, to crawl higher.
I had been tamped down like a cork in a bottle.
A wave washed in through the upper hatch and swamped me. Sputtering, I pressed on my thigh with both hands and shoved the knee down hard, painfully, past a welded steel join, then squirmed to grab a rung.
I poked up through the hatch. Twilight was leaving the western sky, a lovely orange fading into blue and then black. Stars filled the zenith, visible even through the spray from swooshing and bumping whitecaps.
Dave was nowhere to be seen. Another wave almost blinded me and spun the sub around. I palmed water from my eyes and blinked at the nightmare. The Sea Messenger had come about and was backing her screws two hundred yards to starboard, whipping the sea into dancing foam.
A flare shot up from the ship's deck and arced over Mary's Triumph. They knew where I was.
"Get Dave!" I shouted, and swung my arms over my head. "Man overboard!"
Another wave loomed, a greenie so high I could see the last of the daylight through it. It smashed over the sub's tiny housing and slammed me against the metal lip. The hatch banged shut on my head and fingers. A bomb blast of pain brought on blind rage, and I slammed the hatch back once, caught it on the rebound, flung it back for a second bounce, and once more, with all my might.
Anger spent, fingers and head throbbing, I dropped and sealed the hatch. I wasn't going to take any chances with the open sea. I trembled so hard I thought I'd vibrate around the inside of the sphere. For a moment I saw Dave in the water outside the sub, thrashing and drowning, but it was only a fat little twister of bubbles. It was finished--I was going to die.
I caught myself moaning like a whipped dog, then, hearing water slosh in the bottom of the sphere, I remembered the specimens, locked safe in their drawers. My reason for being here, the reward for months of working the angel circuit. I had survived a maniac sub driver, I was afloat, I still had the prize, the putative Apple, the Golden Fleece of the Gods.
Nobody had said it was going to be easy.
I fumbled with the ship-to-ship, changing frequencies, and finally a breathless voice answered.
"Messenger here. Is that you, Dave?"
I recognized Jason, the controller and mission planner for the DSV. I pressed the mike switch. "It's Hal. Dave flaked. He's over the side. Get a Zodiac out there--he might still be afloat."
"Shit." Jason held his mike open and I thought I heard sobbing. "Are you driving the sub?"
"She's on autopilot."
"Hal, we have a bad situation. Someone's shooting up the ship. We may have casualties. Hal?"
"I'm here."
"Paul and Stan went aft about ten minutes ago. We can't go back to the crane until they check in."
"Dave went nuts, Jason," I said, eager to make clear my own tale of woe. That seemed too much for him to absorb, and I decided to skip it for the time being. "Just get me back on the ship."
"I don't know how long that will take. Hang on. We'll do our best."
"Yeah," I said, and braced my hand against the inside of the pressure sphere. The sub almost rolled over.
I buckled myself in and gripped the mike like a lifeline.
Nadia herself bobbed in the water next to the DSV and tapped the frame with a grappling hook. I waved, and she gave me a strong chin nod back, wet black hair peeking out from under her hood, black eyes distinct even behind the
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