secured a second one. Oh, and make sure to give any anchoring
ring, railing, or whatever you intend to hook onto a good, healthy tweak before
you trust it. People have died 'cause they've ignored that advice. Take your
time and be safe. Look around here a bit and then we'll do a couple of safety
drills. After that we'll head for the bridge."
"Wrist
comp... schematics... With your permission, Lieutenant," said Carlisle,
"I'd like to lead the way. This suit has other capabilities. It has an
interface for my wrist computer and I have it patched into my helmet display.
As you know, I've got the schematics for several hundred ship types loaded up.
It would be a good way to test how well my system is going to work over the
next few days. Best to find out right away if I can find my
way around."
"You have to
start sometime," said Harris, "Carry on."
Carlisle looked
around the cargo area.
"This is a
Daimler-Benz S220, isn't it?"
"Close,
Lass, but she be smaller than that. This be only a 180," corrected Hawkins.
"What
model?"
"She's about
eighty years old," said Harris. "That would make her a Series
Four."
Carlisle's eyes
moved rapidly back and forth as she consulted her suit display. Again she spoke
softly to herself. The two men looked and one another, Harris shrugged, but
said nothing.
"Daimler-Benz...S180...Series
Four...deck layout...Execute!" said Carlisle. After a few moments, she
pointed to a door on the far side of the cargo bay. "That should be the
door to the main corridor."
"That it
is," said Harris. "Lead on!"
Chapter 8
UTFN Reclamation Center, Salvage Training
and Orientation Vessel, October 5, 2598.
With a lifetime
of weightless experience by virtue of her Spacer upbringing, combined with
years of rigorous military drills, intense athletic training, and the agility
made possible by her experimental suit, Carlisle seemed even more at home
moving around in the old ship than the two more experienced men. Since this
particular ship had been set up as a training facility for new personnel, there
were several stations where the group stopped for safety indoctrination and
physical drills. After each station was completed, Harris would provide the
location for their next stop and Carlisle would consult her schematics before
leading them in what she determined to be the proper direction.
At one stop the
two men demonstrated and then observed while their young companion changed the
air pack on her suit. At another stop, they had her close her eyes while they
untethered her, spun her around, and sent her flying across an enclosed bay to
see how she handled regaining control of bodily motion while disoriented. Her
background, natural abilities, and the special suit made these tests
ridiculously easy. Safety drills successfully completed, they headed for the
bridge, Carlisle again leading.
After another
five minutes roving through various corridors, past the engine room, passing
through crew quarters and finally winding through the mess area, the group
found themselves on the bridge of the old ship. Except for a few short pauses
while Carlisle consulted her schematics, their progress had been very direct.
Harsh, white
Nacobbian sunlight came in through the two large, rectangular forward viewports
on the old cargo ship's bridge. A portion of the tail drive tubes of an
adjacent ship positioned at an impossible angle was visible through the right
side viewport. The interplay of bright light and dark shadow within the former
control room made for a disorientating and somewhat depressing scene. The
control modules and almost all of the other useful materials on the old ship
had been salvaged years ago and little remained of the normal bridge workings
besides a row of consoles with stark gaping holes and trailing wires. Harris
was surprised, again, when Hawkins took the lead on further safety protocol.
"You say
your suit be pretty tough, Lass," said the older man, "but I'd still
be real careful. Lots o' jagged edges in
ring, railing, or whatever you intend to hook onto a good, healthy tweak before
you trust it. People have died 'cause they've ignored that advice. Take your
time and be safe. Look around here a bit and then we'll do a couple of safety
drills. After that we'll head for the bridge."
"Wrist
comp... schematics... With your permission, Lieutenant," said Carlisle,
"I'd like to lead the way. This suit has other capabilities. It has an
interface for my wrist computer and I have it patched into my helmet display.
As you know, I've got the schematics for several hundred ship types loaded up.
It would be a good way to test how well my system is going to work over the
next few days. Best to find out right away if I can find my
way around."
"You have to
start sometime," said Harris, "Carry on."
Carlisle looked
around the cargo area.
"This is a
Daimler-Benz S220, isn't it?"
"Close,
Lass, but she be smaller than that. This be only a 180," corrected Hawkins.
"What
model?"
"She's about
eighty years old," said Harris. "That would make her a Series
Four."
Carlisle's eyes
moved rapidly back and forth as she consulted her suit display. Again she spoke
softly to herself. The two men looked and one another, Harris shrugged, but
said nothing.
"Daimler-Benz...S180...Series
Four...deck layout...Execute!" said Carlisle. After a few moments, she
pointed to a door on the far side of the cargo bay. "That should be the
door to the main corridor."
"That it
is," said Harris. "Lead on!"
Chapter 8
UTFN Reclamation Center, Salvage Training
and Orientation Vessel, October 5, 2598.
With a lifetime
of weightless experience by virtue of her Spacer upbringing, combined with
years of rigorous military drills, intense athletic training, and the agility
made possible by her experimental suit, Carlisle seemed even more at home
moving around in the old ship than the two more experienced men. Since this
particular ship had been set up as a training facility for new personnel, there
were several stations where the group stopped for safety indoctrination and
physical drills. After each station was completed, Harris would provide the
location for their next stop and Carlisle would consult her schematics before
leading them in what she determined to be the proper direction.
At one stop the
two men demonstrated and then observed while their young companion changed the
air pack on her suit. At another stop, they had her close her eyes while they
untethered her, spun her around, and sent her flying across an enclosed bay to
see how she handled regaining control of bodily motion while disoriented. Her
background, natural abilities, and the special suit made these tests
ridiculously easy. Safety drills successfully completed, they headed for the
bridge, Carlisle again leading.
After another
five minutes roving through various corridors, past the engine room, passing
through crew quarters and finally winding through the mess area, the group
found themselves on the bridge of the old ship. Except for a few short pauses
while Carlisle consulted her schematics, their progress had been very direct.
Harsh, white
Nacobbian sunlight came in through the two large, rectangular forward viewports
on the old cargo ship's bridge. A portion of the tail drive tubes of an
adjacent ship positioned at an impossible angle was visible through the right
side viewport. The interplay of bright light and dark shadow within the former
control room made for a disorientating and somewhat depressing scene. The
control modules and almost all of the other useful materials on the old ship
had been salvaged years ago and little remained of the normal bridge workings
besides a row of consoles with stark gaping holes and trailing wires. Harris
was surprised, again, when Hawkins took the lead on further safety protocol.
"You say
your suit be pretty tough, Lass," said the older man, "but I'd still
be real careful. Lots o' jagged edges in
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