Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [85]
Nikko Chan Tylar shouted from one of the closest rows of seats, “We can all see how that wental has changed you, Jess. If we’re handling and delivering this superwater, how can we be sure the rest of us won’t be infected?”
A gruff voice called, “Shizz, if Jess Tamblyn can walk around in space without a suit, maybe some of us want that advantage! Why not drink some of the wental water for ourselves? How does it feel, Jess?”
“I am an anomaly, and I hope I remain the only one,” he answered. “I can’t touch anybody, or the power surge would kill them like a bolt of lightning. Make no mistake, the wentals were forced to take this drastic action in order to save my life, but they will not let it happen again. Simple exposure to wental water will not lead to a similar…contamination.”
“How do we know these wentals are as altruistic as you say?” called Anna Pasternak. “What if we end up creating something as nasty as the hydrogues?”
Cesca gazed at the rapt audience, knowing some of them were convinced, others worried. “Remember that these wentals fought against the hydrogues ten thousand years ago. Jess says that they were also allies with the forest life force on Theroc. I see no reason to doubt him.”
Jess considered his answer. “I’m still a Roamer, and I’m asking you to trust me.”
“Good enough for me,” said Alfred Hosaki. “Roamers have always relied on each other. We have to rely on each other—especially now that we’ve cut off trade with the outside. If you want to be suspicious of everybody, go join the Big Goose.”
Out in the audience, Nikko shot to his feet so quickly that he needed to grasp an anchor bar to keep from floating upward in the low gravity. “Then let me be the first to sign up for Jess. I’ve got my own ship. The faster we wipe out the drogues, the sooner we can all get back to the business of skymining.”
Cesca smiled. Jess would have plenty of volunteers.
Chapter 43—SULLIVAN GOLD
Another full load of ekti launched from the cloud harvester, and Sullivan Gold felt like celebrating, or at least wrapping up the tanks with ribbons and bows. He stood on the administrative deck like a Napoleon, watching his workers like a hawk, and they pretended to be intimidated by him. Everyone knew he was pleased with their progress so far. Sullivan wasn’t sure whether to credit his skilled management methods, or whether his crew just knew what they were doing.
“That’s three shipments in record time.” He grinned out at the placid clouds, standing behind the atmosphere-retention field of the open deck. “If the Hansa wasn’t already paying me so well, I’d demand a bonus.”
Beside him, Kolker smiled, but his eyes were closed, his hands resting on the treeling as he communicated through telink. “Nahton is hurrying to inform Chairman Wenceslas and the King.” Distracted, Kolker bowed his head again, touching the treeling. “Oh, excuse me—something else is happening.”
Sullivan let out an amused sigh. “All right, now who are you talking to?”
Speaking with only a fragment of his attention, the green priest answered, “Just a few friends. It’s nothing important.”
“Uh-huh. I had a teenage daughter once. I know how it can be—on the data network, or using voice communication, or even occasionally chatting face-to-face.”
Now the green priest opened his eyes. “I’m far away from my comrades here, and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen them. But we exchange plenty of information. A green priest’s purpose is to communicate, with each other and with the worldtrees.”
He had never seen Kolker when he wasn’t connected to his treeling. “And you do an excellent job of it.”
Sullivan felt the biting breeze on his cheeks from the ocean of hydrogen-rich clouds. The sky harvester hummed along, while small ships flitted around and inspection