Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [160]
Had the sun been up, she’d have been able to see the path cut through the forest by the maglevs. Moving at supersonic speeds, they created sonic booms and explosive winds that pushed aside everything close to the track. Trees and shrubbery leaned sharply away on either side, as far from passing trains as they could get. The effect was like that of the parting of the Red Sea, a leafy wilderness this time, divided by irresistible power.
She picked up the maglev route west and began to follow it toward the mountains. Beyond Eagle Point the peaks bunched up into a vast rampart, the tallest range on the planet. They were snow-covered, majestic, impassable without the tunnel. The approaches were scarred from ancient movement: deep canyons, sudden ridges, precipices.
“Hello? Air Rescue, are you there?”
Nothing. She imagined a hand over the mike and people arguing, making calls.
“For a start,” said Kim, “you need to turn off any safety devices.” Anything that would stop the train if detectors noted an obstruction in the tunnel.
“Go ahead, Doc. If you still want to do this—”
They had her title, which meant they’d checked her out. “Good. Listen, I need some details. How long is the tunnel? Exactly? What are its dimensions? Does it curve? If so, where and how much? And when will the freight enter it? I need to know to the second.”
“That might be hard to come by.”
“Why? Punch some buttons. It should be easy.”
“Not in the time available.”
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Tom. Tom Pace.”
“Tom, you’re all I have.”
“Kim,” Pace said, “I thought you’d want to know. We’ve called in the military.”
“That’s good. When will they get here?”
“Within the hour.”
“That might be a little behind the curve. Do you have those numbers for me yet?”
“I’m working on it.”
Ahead, a gray wall was rising and she saw the black mouth of the tunnel at its base. She was too early. She turned in a tight circle around toward the north. Buy time and give the critter a chance to get closer.
She checked her power reserve. It was down to thirteen minutes.
“Kim, I have your information.”
“Go.”
“First of all, the tunnel is straight.”
Thank God for that.
“It’s nineteen to twenty-one meters wide. Depends where you are. Eighteen meters high, but the track’s three meters off the ground, so you really only have fifteen meters clearance. The tunnel is 26.1 kilometers long. The freight will enter the western end at 9:42:45. Give or take thirty seconds. Sorry, that’s the best we can do. It’ll be down to 220 kilometers per hour on entry. You want me to repeat that?”
She checked the satellite-controlled clock. It was just past 9:31. She punched the numbers into the computer, got her results, and set the timer.
“Kim, this is not a good idea.”
“I know, Tom.” She could see the shroud coming up from the south, a glowing patch moving against the stars.
She completed her turn and started west again, trying to time her flight so she’d enter the tunnel at exactly 9:35. Her sensors picked up the route and she locked on.
“Good luck,” he said. “Safeties are off.” To his everlasting credit, he went quiet.
The timer told her she was due at the tunnel in one minute. She looked ahead at the rapidly approaching peaks and estimated she was running right on schedule.
The shroud had made up most of its lost ground and was again closing in. The mountains rose around her and she was committed, no place to go except the tunnel. Her pursuer stayed with her.
At forty seconds, she reconnected Jerry.
It immediately began getting inputs from the flyer’s various sensors. “Kim,” it said accusingly, “what have you done?”
“We have to go through the tunnel,” she told it. “I need you to do that.”
It didn’t waste time arguing. It descended slightly, lined up on the entrance, and slowed down.
“There’s a train coming in the other end at 9:42:45,” she said. “Thirty-second potential deviation.”
It did not