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around her waist. Grant's eyes glinted as he took his, popping the ASP from
its spring-powered holster, gauging its weight and balance.
Softly, Brigid said, "At least it's more aesthetically pleasing than a Sin
Eater."
Grant threw her a fleeting, appreciative smile and inclined his head in a nod,
acknowledging her subtle message.
Still not speaking, Macrough handed Kane and Grant two flat, small curves of
metal. They placed the comm-tachs against the mastoid bones behind their right
ears. Implanted steel pintels embedded in the bones slid through the flesh and
into tiny input ports in the comm-tachs. A burst of static filled their heads,
then they heard Cotta's voice echoing inside their ears.
"Testing," Cotta intoned. "One-two-three. Testing,"
"Got you," said Kane. "Calibrate the audio pickup for Grant, too."
"Calibrated, Commander."
Lights changed color on the hatch cover, and gas-keted pressure locks
separated with a clank they felt through the soles of their boots. The hatch
irised open, releasing a puff of cold air and an eerie whistling sound. The
boarding chute stretched away at a gradual inclining angle. Regularly placed
light rings on the chute's ribbing cast a blue-green illumination.
264
JAMES AXLER
Kane started to climb down, looked toward Ma-crough, paused and lifted his
right forefinger to his nose and snapped it away in a smart salute.
Macrough didn't return the gesture, but he nodded gravely, as if he understood
its significance.
The interior of the cylinder held an atmosphere but no gravity. Once away from
the bleed-off of the
Sabre's grav-stators, everyone became weightless. The inner walls of the chute
came equipped with staple-shaped rungs by which they could pull themselves
along. Kane took the point, followed by Brigid and Fand. Grant floundered
along at the rear, filling the hollow tube with breathless curses.
The women's hair floated around their heads like clouds. Fand's long tresses
tied with the golden balls streamed out behind and above her like a flaxen
cloak.
The four people floated and bobbed along the cylinder. Kane refused to allow
himself to be assailed by doubts and worries. The end of the chute came into
view, a circle of white gh'mmering light. As they neared it, their bodies felt
the drag of gravity, the weight gradually settling over their limbs until they
no longer bobbed along like corks but were forced to climb, hand over hand.
They exited the boarding chute into a spacious, dome-ceilinged chamber.
Opposite their position, they saw a duplicate of the round hatch they had just
clambered through. Kane tapped his comm-tach's send stud.
"Sabre, do you read me?"
There was no response, not even a hiss of static. The commfrequency was
jammed.
A panting, grimacing Jozure appeared in full battle armor, from visored silver
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helmet to a curved tachi
Outer Darkness
265
sword at his hip. The blade was ceremonial, strictly for show. The standard
Tiger's weapon was the
RAZER rig he wore at the small of his back. Power conduits snaked to the
tight-beam laser emitters mounted on his gauntleted forearms.
His face bore a streak of red, blistered flesh and his left hand was encased
in a hastily applied cast.
Before Kane could speak, Jozure stomped over to him, bellowing, "Twelve of my
samurai dead, Kane!
Five injured, my ship crippled "
His voice held equal measures of anguish and rage. Rumor had it that Tigers of
Heaven officers were contractually bound to commit seppuku if they failed in a
mission and lost men and materiel in the process.
Kane eyed him sympathetically, resisting the urge to remind the captain about
the proverb regarding angels and rushing fools.
"Now what?" muttered Grant.
"You will not draw your side arms."
The flat, oily voice, so finely projected it seemed impossible not to have
come from one of them, echoed over their heads. As one, all five people
skipped around, necks craned as they peered upward.
A gleaming device, barely two feet long, hovered overhead. It was a vaguely [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]