Ancestor's World Read Online Free PDF Page B

sanitary unit door stood open, swinging drunkenly on its hinges. Unlatched.
    Maybe the rat was inside there? He started down the passage.
    In the comer of his left eye, something moved. Something big that moved with blurring speed. Something that had been hiding behind the bulkhead wall separating the pilot's cabin from the passenger section.
    Before he could duck, something hard struck his head. Even before the blinding pain hit, Bill heard the crunch of bone. Red agony billowed through him, engulfing him.
    Bill Waterston tried to scream, but managed only a groan. Dimly, he was aware that he'd dropped to his knees, swaying.
    "Nooo," he moaned despairingly. Then blackness replaced the blinding redness and he fell, smashing face first into the floor. His lips split open, blood flowed out to meet that coming from his head, and dull nothingness hovered close by.
    Dad! he thought, then remembered his father had died years ago. Pain flared again as his broken nose filled with blood. Struggling weakly to breathe, he tried to turn over,
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    to see who it was that was killing him. He had never hurt anyone. Who wanted him dead? But his strength faded away like the colors of sunset.
    Grief filled him ... grief and regret.
    His last thought was that he'd failed Mahree.
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CHAPTER 2 Salvage Archaeology
    Deep in the bowels of the airless asteroid that was home to StarBridge Academy, Rob Gable sat alone in his office, head bowed, the backs of his hands pressed tightly to his closed eyes as he struggled to fight back tears.
    He didn't have time to cry. Later, perhaps, when the day's work was over, he could indulge himself and let his sadness overwhelm him, allow the emotional cleansing that weeping could bring. He was a psychologist and a medical doctor-- he knew all about the damage repressed emotions could cause the human psyche.
    But now was not the time to let his grief overwhelm him. He had things to do.
    Life went on....
    But not for Bill, his mind reminded him, bringing a fresh lump to his throat.
    Bill's life is over. Why? Who could do such a thing?
    Waterston had been one of Rob's prize students, a young man who'd gone on beyond the role of student to assume that of a friend. Exceptionally able and mature for someone still in his early twenties, Bill had been part of the new wave of StarBridge-trained diplomats ... one of the first to graduate and fulfill his destiny as an Interrelator. But now ... years of study, all that work, all that dedication to the
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    vision that StarBridge Academy existed to nurture ... gone. Just... gone.
    It's not fair. How could something like this happen? Rob wondered, aware that he'd asked this question many times over the years. The psychologist swallowed hard and ran a hand through his wavy hair--dark hair that was showing more than a hint of gray these days.
    Clenching his jaw, Rob punched the FTL access code into the holo-tank, followed by Mahree's ID and the "override" code. Time to get things rolling.
    And it would help to talk with Mahree ... though he hated to be the bearer of bad news. But if anyone could gain them the help they needed, the help Khuharkk's message had requested, it would be Mahree Burroughs, the CLS Ambassador-at- Large.
    The holo-tank shimmered and then an image flickered into being. A woman sitting behind a desk in a room many light-years away looked up and smiled brightly, then stretched out a hand toward the screen. "Rob! How wonderful to see you! I'm glad you caught me, Half an hour from now, I'll be leaving to attend a trade conference."
    Rob recognized Mahree's private office on Shassiszss Station, the enormous space station that orbited Shassiszss, the Mizari homeworld.
    Mahree, he was pleased to see, looked well. Becoming a mother had barely changed her slight figure, and, although she'd been a rather ordinary-looking girl, she'd matured into an attractive, even, at times, lovely woman.
    She wore no makeup, as usual, and was dressed in a businesslike navy outfit.