Enigma by Michael P. Kube-McDowell Read Free Book Online Page A

learned some lessons in the last two centuries.”
    “Haven’t we all,” Neale said, her voice heavy with irony.
    Alvarez crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his hands under his armpits. “I understand only four of you off the Dove are going back out?” She nodded. “Kislak, Tamm, Rogen, and I. Tamm gets Tycho and Kislak as his exec, I get Descartes and Rogen.”
    “I guess I’m a little surprised there are even that many—”
    “I’ll be surprised if there aren’t more by the time we leave,” she said shortly. “Let’s not drag this out, okay? I’ve got work to do back at Unity. Let me have a quick tour of the section my crew will occupy.”
    “Of course.”
    The construction manager brought the jitney in from above and berthed it at a work station inside the bay occupied by Tycho ’s apparently finished hull. They went aboard via a flex tunnel attached to the aftmost crew portal, near the spherical bulge of one of the four lifepods. There seemed to be little activity aboard, on which Neale remarked.
    “We’re pretty much down to punch lists and failproofing,” Alvarez said as they moved downship on the three-sided climb-way ladder. “I’ve got a test team on the bridge and two mop-up crews working in the drive compartment, but you wanted to see your area. Step off here, please.”
    The climbway ended at the gig bay pressure hatch. On the other side was more of the same: corridors, bulkheads, and doorways. “I’m afraid you’ll find you have a little less elbow room here than the ship’s main quarters, but it should be adequate. You’ve got thirteen double cabins and four singles, your own edrec library, and a small exercise area.”
    “And all this will be pulled once we reach Advance Base Cygnus, I understand.”
    “Yes. It’s modular—three big sections sized to squeak through the bay’s space door. The Cygnus folk should be able to break it down and have it out of here and added to their own base in three working days. And because it’s intended for reuse, I think you’ll find it’s not as crude as you were afraid it would be.”
    “Where’s the ship’s gig and the rest of the gear that’d usually be in here?”
    “It’ll go piggyback in a pod amidships on the main hull, along with the new equipment for Descartes . You won’t be able to get at it until you reach Cygnus Base, but you won’t have need of it, either.”
    Neale poked her head inside one of the double cabins and gave it a cursory inspection.
    “I’ll have to admit I was a little dubious when they told me how they were going to ferry my crew out to Advance Base Cygnus, but this should be satisfactory,” she said, rejoining Alvarez.
    “Hitching twenty-five lights in a gig bay doesn’t sound very attractive,” he agreed. “Could be worse—they could have put you in the pod.” He shook his head abruptly. “Slitters. They’ve got the gain up again. Excuse me a moment, Commander.”
    Alvarez pressed a finger into the hollow behind his left ear and cocked his head slightly as if listening. “Understood,” he said as though to himself, and lowered his hand back to his side. “That was Unity, Commander. Your first call is starting to arrive.”
    She nodded. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go back.” She knitted her brows and added, “Is everybody wearing those implant relays now?”
    “Oh, yes,” he effused. “They’re awfully damn convenient. Not much to the operation—I’ll bet the medtechs could take care of you before Tycho heads out.”
    Neale shuddered. “No, thanks. Being hardwired into the net doesn’t come under my definition of duty.”
    Rocking back in her chair, Neale studied the solemn-faced young awk as he made his way to the empty chair opposite her. “Commander,” he acknowledged with a bob of his head as he sat down.
    “God, does everyone here do that?” she exclaimed in annoyance. “Don’t presume. I’m not your Commander. My name is Neale. Use it.”
    Thackery nodded,