A World Between Read Online Free PDF Page A

activated the float units, and pulsed fusion engines beneath the waterline lifted the Davey Jones two meters into the air, clear of the wavecrests. He set the thruster at minimum throttle and the boat was under power, skimming along above the surface of the sea at 30 kph. He punched a button and mast, boom, and rudder were retracted into the aerodynamically smooth hull of the boat. He threw another switch, and the gunwales of the open cockpit extruded a clear microglass canopy over him. Now the Davy Jones was ready to jump.
    Royce set the autopilot for Lorien, set the speed for max, and waved goodbye to the boomerbirds. “Watch your tailfeathers!” he said, and gave the con over to the automatics.
    The hum of the fusion engines rose a little louder and the Davy Jones shot a hundred meters straight up, scattering the outraged boomerbirds again. At the apogee of the lift, the fusion thruster accelerated rapidly to 1000 kph, slamming Royce against the back of his seat.
    The boat climbed rapidly at a forty-five-degree angle, and the islets below dwindled to green specks on a flat plane of azure glass. Almost before Royce could look down through the canopy at the dwindling world below, the boat nosed over and descended to a hover two meters above the sea, not a quarter of a kilometer west of the narrow mouth of Lorien’s lagoon.
    That boomin’ autopilot sure cuts it close! Royce thought as he cut out the automatics, turned on the thruster, and steered the boat for the lagoon, zipping along at a good 80 kph above the chop.
    In a few minutes, he was pulling up beside Carlotta’s boat, the Golden Goose , in the docking area under the veranda of the house. Another minute, and the boat was secured, and he was dashing two steps at a time up the gangway topside.
    Rugo, their fat brown bumbler, met him at the top of the gangway—a rotund, waddling bundle of self-centered affection. He rubbed up against Royce’s leg, regarded him with great soulful violet eyes, and nuzzled the bottom of his buttocks with his soft yellow beak. “Sorry, Jocko,” Royce said, ruffling the bumbler’s furlike feathers as he gently nudged the creature aside, “we appear to have a planetary crisis going, and mommy needs daddy.”
    “Whonk!" Rugo exclaimed with skeptical indignation as* Royce pushed by him. Through the glass doors, Royce saw that Carlotta was waiting for him in his own netshop, sitting on the edge of one of the loungers, so intent on the screens that she appeared not to have yet noticed his arrival.
    Royce slid open the doors, pecked her on the cheek, and sat down in the other lounger. “So?”
    Carlotta nodded silently at the array of screens before them. Royce saw Laura Sunshine from his own Web Monitoring Bureau on the gov comscreen, and on the obscreen, the shimmering haloed image of some kind of decelerating starship.
    “A visitor...”
    “The Transcendental Science Arkology Heisenberg , to be precise,” Carlotta said. “And it makes orbit in twenty days.”
    “Oh-oh,” Royce muttered. He leaned back in the lounger and pondered a moment. “Any contact?” he asked.
    “Just this on a continuous tape-loop,” Carlotta said, punching a replay button.
    The strong, calm, slightly intimidating face of a grayhaired man appeared on the access screen—ancient with wisdom, yet somehow agelessly youthful. Royce felt immediately attracted yet also repelled —formidable was the word. “I am Dr. Roger Falkenstein of the Transcendental Science Arkology Heisenberg . We are entering your solar system and will make orbit around Pacifica in twenty days. Our mission is peaceful and will greatly benefit your people. We intend to establish an Institute of Transcendental Science on Pacifica. As Managing Director of the Heisenberg , I request permission to land on your planet and open negotiations with your government.” The voice was authoritative, oceanic, and something in it called to Royce, promised the ineffable. The political