Have Tech, Will Travel (SCE Books 1-4) - Keith R. A. DeCandido_. [et al.] [42]
The voice was almost pleading. Or maybe Sonya was projecting. Either way, she resolved to watch her step, and was suddenly grateful that Corsi had taken a team of three.
Corsi said, “Ganitriul, which security protocols don’t you have control over right now?”
“I am afraid it varies. Are you familiar with my security specifications?”
“Yes.”
“At the moment, I have complete control over everything in the immediate vicinity. If that changes—or if you move into an area that I do not have control over—I will inform you.”
“Thank you.”
Within moments, they turned a corner, and the walls were replaced by what appeared to be a giant, smooth slab of black marble. Corsi, Drew, and Hawkins also shone their wristlamps on it, giving Sonya a better view. The slab, she suspected, was a large viewscreen. In front of it, she could see a very comfortable-looking chair, which was also distressingly close to the ground. Various buttons dotted the wide arms of the chair.
“All right, I give up—what is it?” Corsi asked.
“The main terminal,” Sonya said. She pointed at the slab. “That’s the viewscreen. The operator sits in the chair, and operates it with those buttons.”
Hawkins looked dubiously at the chair. “They sit in that ?”
“The Eerlikka are fairly short,” Sonya said, “with small legs for their height, generally, so this is the right size for them. And the viewscreen can afford to be this large—they have wide eyes and a breadth of vision much greater than we do.”
As if on cue, the viewscreen lit up with several images. Some were views of parts of a city being subjected to bad weather—Sonya assumed it was a city on Eerlik. Others showed bits of data in a language Sonya recognized as Makaro, the most common language on Eerlik—she couldn’t read a word of it, of course, but she had seen similar writing in the mission profile. In addition, a small hole that looked like some kind of dataport opened in the smooth surface. Sonya could detect no seams. It was as if the hole just appeared, though that could have just been a function of the dim light.
“I must warn you not to sit in the chair,” said Ganitriul suddenly. “The chair is designed to allow only those whose DNA patterns match those of the presently ordained clergy to sit in it. I have been unable to disable that function.”
“That’s bad, isn’t it?” Drew said.
“There is an alternative. 110, you are a member of the Bynar race, are you not?”
“Yes, I am,” 110 said.
“In that case, you may interface directly with my dataport.”
110 hesitated. “Very well.” He moved toward the dataport.
As he did so, Corsi, who had been gazing at her tricorder, cried, “Wait!”
“What is it, Lieutenant Commander?”
“I’m reading a ton of electricity flowing through that port.”
“That is normal,” Ganitriul said.
“I really don’t think that 110 can handle it.”
“Bynar epidermis is able to conduct electrical charges, Lieutenant Commander,” 110 said.
“Not this much. We’re talking eighty thousand kilojoules.”
“That is not what my readings indicate. Please wait a moment.” A pause, then Ganitriul continued. “My apologies. It appears my readings were incorrect. Lieutenant Commander Corsi, please tell me what you are reading now.”
Corsi looked at her tricorder. “Two hundred kilojoules. That’s within 110’s tolerances.”
Nodding, 110 said, “Yes, it is.”
110 placed a small hand inside the dataport, which altered its size to accommodate the size and shape of the Bynar’s hand. A nimbus of electricity started to form around 110, further illuminating the chamber. Then the Bynar let out a rapid-fire burst in the binary language of his people, which the universal translator simply rendered as a highpitched whine. Bart had said, when Sonya first arrived on the da Vinci, that the translators could be modified to understand the Bynar tongue, but Sonya had never seen the need. Now she was sorry she hadn