Progenitor - Michael Jan Friedman [57]
Greyhorse shaded his eyes as he examined the bridge from one end to the other. “So it would seem.”
The captain took his companions in at a glance. “So what are we waiting for?”
There were murmurs of agreement. However, no one seemed very eager to try the span.
“I’ll go first,” Simenon volunteered.
He didn’t get any arguments from the others.
Jiterica was sitting at her workstation in the science section, dutifully inspecting yet another set of sensor readings, when she heard someone call her name.
Turning, she saw that it was Commander Wu. The second officer was crossing the science section, headed her way.
“Commander?” Jiterica said in response.
Wu looked serious. “I need your help with the research vessel,” she told the Nizhrak.
Her curiosity piqued, Jiterica swiveled to face her superior. “I will assist you in any way I can.”
Wu held a hand up. “Don’t say that until you’ve heard me out. What I have in mind will involve considerable personal risk. If you decline, I’ll understand.”
“I would like to help,” Jiterica maintained.
Wu nodded. “I was hoping you would say that.”
“What do you need me to do?” the ensign asked.
The commander didn’t tell her right away. Instead, she described Ensign Paris’s idea. Its flaw, apparently, was that a shuttle would have too much mass to be manipulated by a tractor beam under the conditions that existed in the accretion bridge.
“But not a single crewman,” Wu continued pointedly. “That would be a different story entirely.”
Jiterica looked at her. “A single crewman,” she repeated thoughtfully. The conclusion was an obvious one. “You mean me.”
Wu nodded. “That’s right.”
“Because I’m accustomed to the conditions in a gas giant.”
“Exactly. Radiation and magnetic fields aren’t a problem for you and neither is high gravity, and your mass is no greater than that of the average human being.”
Jiterica took a moment to consider the idea. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made—except for one fairly significant problem.
“Given the inefficiencies of projecting a tractor beam into the accretion bridge, the ship will have to come rather close to it. Won’t she run the risk of being drawn inside?”
“She would,” Wu agreed, “if she had to come that close. But what if she simply maintained a tractor lifeline to a shuttle . . .and it was the shuttle that sent in the crewman on a beam of its own?”
“Two tractor beams,” Jiterica said. “One from the ship and one from the shuttle. An interesting approach.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Wu told her. “Of course, the beam would only get you so far. You would still have to find a hatch and gain access to the Belladonna.”
It seemed to Jiterica that she was capable of doing that. Then something occurred to her. “Commander . . . unless I’m mistaken, our shuttlecraft aren’t equipped with tractor assemblies.”
“Normally,” said Wu, “that’s true. But we’re going to take one of ours and make it an exception.”
The ensign nodded. “I see.” She had just one other question. “Who will pilot the shuttle?”
Wu told her who she had in mind.
Simenon wasn’t nearly as matter-of-fact about crossing the crevasse as he had made himself out to be.
Like most Mazzereht, he was discomfited by heights. It was one of the reasons his subspecies didn’t succeed in the ritual more often.
On the other hand, what was the point of mentioning such a shortcoming? He had to cross the chasm. They all did. It was just a matter of looking straight ahead and doing it.
All right, Simenon told himself, you can do this.
Clenching his jaw, he grasped the rope rail on the right side and took a step onto the bridge. Then another. And another.
As it turned out, the span wasn’t half as wobbly as it looked. It wasn’t as easy as walking down a corridor on the Stargazer—after all, corridors didn’t bounce as one negotiated them—but neither did it require a particularly sophisticated sense of balance.
After Simenon had advanced a couple of meters, he was inspired to turn around and look back at his comrades. “Coming?” he asked them.
Joseph frowned and ever so carefully