Dark Matters_ Ghost Dance (Book 2) - Christie Golden [41]
Torres exchanged glances with Telek and Khala. Silently, they all left their posts and went to stand beside Seven's console.
"At the precise moment when the dark matter is transmitted into the sphere," said Seven, "there appears an encircling field of some sort of radiation. It dissipates almost immediately once the dark matter is transferred to the warp-core bubble."
She deftly touched the controls, and an animated graphic appeared. "I shall play back the sensor readings of the last three transports. Observe."
They watched in apprehensive silence as the graphic displayed the process of dematerializing one of the aliens, separating his healthy molecules from those of the dark matter, and placing the dark matter particles into the orb.
Exactly as Seven had described, a perfectly spherical field suddenly appeared around the Shepherd's orb. It lasted only as long as the dark matter was contained within it, and then it quickly dissipated. Twice more, the same thing occurred, except-
"Damn it" Angrily Torres rubbed her eyes and blinked. 'I'm hoping I'm just tired and my eyes are playing tricks on me, but I don't think so. Seven, check this for me. Is it just me or is the radiation field around the orb growing larger with each dematerialization?"
Quickly Seven did the calculations, then gazed at Torres with new respect "You have excellent vision,
Lieutenant. You are correct. The circumference of the radiation field around the orb has increased point zero six percent with each transport." She looked at her colleagues in turn.
"I believe this has been occurring ever since the orb was activated. There is no indication as to the purpose for the manifestation of this field, or whether it is harmful."
Torres turned and stared at the hovering purple sphere. It was their only hope to remove the dark matter from these affected, infected people. And now it was emitting some sort of field that grew more powerful every time they used it. "What were they going to do? The orb was all they had.
"That damned ball," Torres said, with feeling.
CHAPTER 11
INTERCEPTOR SHAMRAA EZBAI REMILKANSUUR WAS convinced that the trauma of seeing his sister disappear right in front of his eyes had rendered him temporarily insane. It was the only explanation. Otherwise, he would never have opted to lead a recovery party at all, let alone think such a thing would be "fun."
How could he have forgotten the unpleasantness of the sim runs he had undergone as part of his training? A holosim training exercise was grueling enough, and there was always a shower and clean clothes and fine, replicated food waiting for him at the end of the ordeal.
Now he was out with his team of ten subordinates, sitting in a hot, steamy jungle while hot, steamy rain
fell for what seemed an eternity. There had been nothing real before this rain. His life before now had been an illusion, a fantasy, a dream of dryness and temperate, artificial climes. And there would be nothing after this rain. It would continue, inexorably, until it had washed away their clothing from their bodies, their flesh from their bones.
In short, Ezbai was utterly miserable.
Next to his skin, which was soaked beneath several layers of clothing, which also were soaked, his communication device vibrated. On a mission such as this, a sound would give them away. They wore their commdevs on their chests. Ezbai called a halt and rummaged through his clammy garments to retrieve the device.
It was a message from the Order:
Am in receipt of a transmission from the Silent One. Change course to two point eight seven mark eight, to the site the Culilann call the sacred mountain. There is a small cave at the base and you will need to issue a recovery.
Ezbai wanted to groan, to weep, to fling himself on the sodden, stinking soil and pound it with his fists. The course change would add several hours to what was already becoming an