Hex by Allen Steele Read Free Book Online Page B

faded from blue to purple to jet-black. A green and brown horizon, gently curved and crisscrossed by the blue veins of rivers and channels, swept into view; moments later, the vast bulk of 47 Ursae Majoris-B appeared beyond Coyote, the silver sword of its ring plane lancing straight out into space.
    They were on their way.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T WO AND A HALF HOURS AFTER THE SHUTTLE LIFTED OFF from New Brighton, it rendezvoused with the Montero . From the copilot’s seat, Andromeda Carson watched as Melpomene Fisk deftly manipulated the control yoke. Melpomene had been Montero ’s helmsman ever since its original pilot retired and Andromeda was forced to recruit a replacement; Fisk had demonstrated her ability to fly anything that could leave the ground, including spacecraft retrofitted with reactionless drives. All the same, Andromeda quietly made sure that the shuttle was on course before allowing herself the luxury of gazing out the cockpit windows.
    Even half-hidden within its orbital dry dock, the CFSS Carlos Montero was magnificent. Three hundred feet long, with a dry weight of nine thousand tons, it was a long, fat cylinder that gradually tapered at its midsection to a slighter smaller service module from which the nacelles of its four gas-core nuclear engines were mounted on outriggers. At the bow was the broad dish of its deflector array; just aft of the crew module were the maneuvering thrusters. Lights gleamed from portholes along the hull; as the shuttle came closer, Andromeda could see that the lander bay was already open in preparation for Reese ’s arrival.
    If any spacecraft could be called a tall ship, then the Montero met the definition for such an antiquated term. The ship was old, even obsolete by some measures; indeed, it was a starship in name only since it had been originally designed for travel within Earth’s solar system and had made its first starbridge jump only after it had been refitted with a hyperspace-rated AI. Yet even after all these years, Andromeda hadn’t become jaded to the sight of her vessel. It was one of the few pleasures she still derived from being a captain.
    â€œShuttle Romeo Navajo Six-Two to Dry Dock Alpha Six, requesting clearance for final approach and docking.” Melpomene listened to her headset for a few moments. “Thank you, Alpha Six, we copy. Over.” She glanced at Andromeda. “Port hatch, skipper? Or do you want me to use the bay?”
    â€œPort hatch, please.” Andromeda knew that the Reese was scheduled for launch a half hour after the shuttle’s departure, and she didn’t want the bay to still be occupied by the shuttle when the Reese arrived. Regulations mandated that a starship’s landing craft should be flown to orbit by a harbor pilot; the rule was a nuisance, and she suspected that it had been put in effect mainly to provide employment for spacers who otherwise wouldn’t have jobs. At least it meant that her crew would all board the ship at the same time; only two or three dockworkers were presently aboard the Montero , and they’d leave as soon as the captain and crew came aboard.
    Andromeda stole a glance through the cockpit door. She’d hoped that her people would use the time to acquaint themselves with the Corps of Exploration team, but it appeared that only her chief petty officer, Zeus Brandt, had made the effort to do so, and probably because the Corpsman he’d chosen to sit next to was young, female, and good-looking; Andromeda hoped that Melpomene wouldn’t notice her boyfriend’s flirtation with another woman. Jason Ressler, her first officer, ignored the two Corpsmen sitting across the aisle from him. Rolf Kurtz, the chief engineer, and Anne Smith, the communications officer, were seated side by side, neither of them speaking to Lieutenant Cayce or Sean even though they were within arm’s reach.
    Andromeda looked away. On one hand, she couldn’t blame her crew for being