The Death of Sleep by Anne McCaffrey, Jody Lynn Nye Read Free Book Online

didn't recognize, making up the rest.
    Heavyworlders were human beings, too, but they were a genetically altered strain, bred to inhabit high-gravity planets that were otherwise suitable for colonization, but had inhospitable conditions for "lightweight" normal humans. The males started at about seven feet in height, and went upward from there. Their facial features were thick and heavy, almost Neanderthal in character, and their hands, even those with proportionately slender fingers, were huge. The females were brawny. Lightweight women looked like dolls next to them. They made Lunzie nervous, as if they were an oversize carnival attraction. She had an uncomfortable feeling that they might fall over on her. Their pronounced brow ridges made many of the heavyworlders look perpetually angry, even when they smiled. She warily kept her distance from them.
    Satia kept up a cheerful chatter as they walked along, pointing out people she knew, and talking about life on the Platform. "We're a small community," she commented cheerfully, "but it's harder to get away when you're feuding with someone. Privacy centers are absolutely inviolable on a deepspace platform. They help at most times, but Descartes really does detailed personality analyses to weed out the people who won't be able to get along on the Platform. There are community games and events every rest period, and we have a substantial library of both video and text. Boredom is one of the worst things that can happen in a closed community. I get to know everyone because I organize most of their children's events." Numbly, Lunzie kept pace with her, murmuring and smiling to Satia's friends without retaining a single name once the face was out of sight.
    "Lep! Domman Lepke! Wait up!" Satia ran to intercept a tall, tan-skinned man in a high-collared tunic who was just disappearing between the automatic sliding doors. He peered around for the hailing voice, and smiled broadly when Satia waved.
    "Lep, I want you to meet a new friend. This is Lunzie Mespil. She was just rescued from deepsleep. She's been lost for over sixty years."
    "Oh, another deadtimer," Lepke said disapprovingly, shaking hands. "How do you do? Are you a 'nothing's changed' or an 'everything's changed'? Listen, Satia, have you heard the latest from the Delta beacon? Heavyworlders have claimed Phoenix. It must have been pirated!"
    Satia, her mouth open to rebuke Lep for his insensitivity, stopped, her eyes widening with horror. "But that was initiated as an inhabited human colony, over six years ago."
    "They claim now that the planet was empty of intelligent life when they got there, but there should be lightweights on that planet right now. No sign of them, or their settlement, or any clue as to what happened to them. Wiped clean off the surface, if they ever made it there in the first place. The FSP are releasing a list of settlers—the usual: 'anyone knowing the last whereabouts,' and so on." Lepke seemed pleased to have been first to pass along the news. "Possession and viability make a colony, so no one can deny their claim if there s no evidence the planet was inhabited before they got there. The Others only know who's telling the truth."
    "Oh, sweet Muhlah! It must have been pirated! Come on, Lunzie. We'll hear the latest." Pulling Lunzie behind her, the slim pediatrician raced toward the Communications Center.
    When they arrived, there was already a large group of people gathered around the Tri-D field, talking and waving arms, tentacles, or paws.
    "They had no right to take over that world. It was designated for lightweight humans. They're adapted to the high-gee planets. Let them take those, and leave the light worlds to us!" a man with red hair expostulated angrily.
    "It is not the first planet to be stripped and abandoned," said a young female with the near-perfect humanoid features a Weft shapechanger usually assumed when living among humans. Lunzie looked around quickly to find the Weft's co-mates.