robot beckoned them out on to the floor of the press – an expanse of dull pitted metal. ‘If I could draw your 52
attention overhead,’ it said, ‘you will be able to see the compression plate. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a metre-thick sheet of superdense matter, colloquially known as dwarf star alloy. Its total mass is one million tons and it is suspended, as you can see, by four AG-assisted columns at a height of a hundred metres.’
There was an uneasy murmur from the crowd; they didn’t like the idea of that much material hanging suspended over their heads. Roz glanced around the party and picked out a private wearing engineering flashes. ‘Wouldn’t like it to slip,’ she said.
‘Talk about your jam sandwich.’
‘Nah,’ said the private. ‘You can see the fail-safe clamps. The AGs are on a positive feedback from the weight. The mass differential drives the generators – any increase and the field intensity just rises to compensate.’
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ said Roz. ‘Providing someone doesn’t blow them.’
The private laughed. ‘You wouldn’t need to do that,’ he said.
He leant closer to Roz and spoke softly, as if not to alarm the other tourists. 'Two grams in the right place and we’d all be a molecular film.’
‘Jeez. You’re kidding me.’
‘It’s not what you’ve got that counts, it’s where you put it,’
said the private. ‘I’m Juha Susanti, Fifteenth Combat Engineers, Count Bauman’s Division.’
‘McShane,’ said Roz, ‘Sarah McShane. I’m a correspondent for Inawo media feed.’
‘I don’t suppose,’ said Susanti, ‘that you’d be interested in a drink later.’
Roz made a pretence of looking him up and down. ‘Actually,’
she said, ‘there’s a bar in town I’ve been meaning to check out.’
For an R-and-R pitstop, the Yellow Oasis was a pretty high-class kind of joint, with a neon-lit U-shaped bar that projected from the back, shadowy booths around two sides, and sturdy tables with rubberized tops so the dancers could keep a grip with their feet.
The service, mostly Skagettes and Argolins, wore abbreviated outfits, but at least they weren’t naked.
53
‘One of my dads was comptroller for the cooperative, so I went to the local school.’ Susanti was talking about his childhood, such as it was. Roz already had the specific information she wanted and was keeping him around to provide cover as she watched the bar. So far Tsang Mei Feng hadn’t put in an appearance.
‘It was a one-flitter town,’ said Susanti. ‘Real quiet. Until I got drafted, my idea of excitement was the monthly bop at the Young Agronomists’ Club.’ He paused to watch a Skagette in luminous blue skin-tights slink past the booth. ‘Nothing like this.’
Sensing his interest, the Skagette turned and smiled at him.
Like most of her race, she was tall and slender, with a peculiar kind of grace that always reminded Roz of the way willow trees moved in the wind. As she turned, her hand swept up and around as if to retain the symmetry of the movement. Roz noticed that the sixth finger had been surgically removed.
She warned the Skagette off with her eyes and the female bared her teeth in return – definitely not a smile, not if you knew Skag body language. Susanti gave her a sly look and then smiled, misinterpreting the exchange. Roz smiled back and poured him another drink. She was wondering how much alcohol it was going to take before he passed out.
‘ Slonshal ,’ said Susanti and drained his glass.
Of course he had a hollow leg; it wasn’t as if there was anything else to do on a backwater agro-planet except get drunk and marry your cousin. Still, no one could drink like an Adjudicator. There are old Adjudicators and sober Adjudicators, the saying went, but there are no old sober Adjudicators. Roz finished her own glass.
‘Another?’ she asked.
Mei Feng had startling grey-blue eyes with epicanthic folds.
Her hair was a wing of blue black that
attention overhead,’ it said, ‘you will be able to see the compression plate. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a metre-thick sheet of superdense matter, colloquially known as dwarf star alloy. Its total mass is one million tons and it is suspended, as you can see, by four AG-assisted columns at a height of a hundred metres.’
There was an uneasy murmur from the crowd; they didn’t like the idea of that much material hanging suspended over their heads. Roz glanced around the party and picked out a private wearing engineering flashes. ‘Wouldn’t like it to slip,’ she said.
‘Talk about your jam sandwich.’
‘Nah,’ said the private. ‘You can see the fail-safe clamps. The AGs are on a positive feedback from the weight. The mass differential drives the generators – any increase and the field intensity just rises to compensate.’
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ said Roz. ‘Providing someone doesn’t blow them.’
The private laughed. ‘You wouldn’t need to do that,’ he said.
He leant closer to Roz and spoke softly, as if not to alarm the other tourists. 'Two grams in the right place and we’d all be a molecular film.’
‘Jeez. You’re kidding me.’
‘It’s not what you’ve got that counts, it’s where you put it,’
said the private. ‘I’m Juha Susanti, Fifteenth Combat Engineers, Count Bauman’s Division.’
‘McShane,’ said Roz, ‘Sarah McShane. I’m a correspondent for Inawo media feed.’
‘I don’t suppose,’ said Susanti, ‘that you’d be interested in a drink later.’
Roz made a pretence of looking him up and down. ‘Actually,’
she said, ‘there’s a bar in town I’ve been meaning to check out.’
For an R-and-R pitstop, the Yellow Oasis was a pretty high-class kind of joint, with a neon-lit U-shaped bar that projected from the back, shadowy booths around two sides, and sturdy tables with rubberized tops so the dancers could keep a grip with their feet.
The service, mostly Skagettes and Argolins, wore abbreviated outfits, but at least they weren’t naked.
53
‘One of my dads was comptroller for the cooperative, so I went to the local school.’ Susanti was talking about his childhood, such as it was. Roz already had the specific information she wanted and was keeping him around to provide cover as she watched the bar. So far Tsang Mei Feng hadn’t put in an appearance.
‘It was a one-flitter town,’ said Susanti. ‘Real quiet. Until I got drafted, my idea of excitement was the monthly bop at the Young Agronomists’ Club.’ He paused to watch a Skagette in luminous blue skin-tights slink past the booth. ‘Nothing like this.’
Sensing his interest, the Skagette turned and smiled at him.
Like most of her race, she was tall and slender, with a peculiar kind of grace that always reminded Roz of the way willow trees moved in the wind. As she turned, her hand swept up and around as if to retain the symmetry of the movement. Roz noticed that the sixth finger had been surgically removed.
She warned the Skagette off with her eyes and the female bared her teeth in return – definitely not a smile, not if you knew Skag body language. Susanti gave her a sly look and then smiled, misinterpreting the exchange. Roz smiled back and poured him another drink. She was wondering how much alcohol it was going to take before he passed out.
‘ Slonshal ,’ said Susanti and drained his glass.
Of course he had a hollow leg; it wasn’t as if there was anything else to do on a backwater agro-planet except get drunk and marry your cousin. Still, no one could drink like an Adjudicator. There are old Adjudicators and sober Adjudicators, the saying went, but there are no old sober Adjudicators. Roz finished her own glass.
‘Another?’ she asked.
Mei Feng had startling grey-blue eyes with epicanthic folds.
Her hair was a wing of blue black that
Similar Books
