Ethan of Athos Read Online Free PDF

Dr. Ethan Urquhart, yes?”
    The parks man pulled out a comm panel and punched up a half-completed form. “Do you realize that tree is nearly 200 years old? Planted by the Founders themselves -- irreplaceable historic value. And it's split halfway down --”
    “Got it, Fred,” came a shout from on high.
    “Lower away!”
    “-- responsibility for damages --”
    A creak of strained wood, a rustle from above, an “Ah,” from the crowd -- a high-pitched rising whine as an antigrav unit suddenly failed to phase properly.
    “Oh, shit!” came a yowl from the treetops. The crowd scattered with cries of warning.
    Five meters per second, thought Ethan with hysterical irrelevancy. Times 25 meters times how many kilograms?
    The nose-down impact on the granite cobblestones starred the gleaming red outer shell of the flyer with fracture lines from front to rear. In the sudden silence after the great crunch Ethan could quite clearly hear an elfin tinkle of expensive electronic instrumentation within, coming to rest a little out of phase with the main mass.
    Janos's blond head turned, startled, at Ethan's tread upon the tiles of the Sevarin City Police Station.
    “Oh, Ethan,” he said plaintively. “I've had a hell of a day.” He paused. “Uh -- did you find your flyer?”
    “Yeah.”
    “It'll be all right, just leave it to me. I called the garage.”
    The bearded police sergeant with whom Janos was dealing across the counter snickered audibly. “Maybe it'll hatch out some tricycles up there.”
    “It's down,” said Ethan shortly. “And I've paid the bill for the tree.”
    “The tree?”
    “Damages thereto.”
    “Oh.”
    “How?” asked Ethan. “The tree, I mean.”
    “It was the birds, Ethan,” Janos explained.
    “The birds. Force you down, did they?”
    Janos laughed uneasily. Sevarin's avian population, all descendants of mutated chickens escaped from the early settlers and gone feral, were a diverse lean lot already hinting at speciation, but still not exactly great flyers. They were considered something of a municipal nuisance; Ethan glanced covertly at the police sergeant's face, and was relieved by a marked lack of concern at the birds' fate. He didn't think he could face a bill for chickens.
    “Yeah, uh,” said Janos, “you see, we found out we could tumble 'em -- make a close pass, they'd go whipping around like a whirligig. Just like flying a fighter, and dive-bombing the enemy...” Janos's hands began to make evocative passes through the air, heroic starfighters.
    Athos had had no military enemies in 200 years. Ethan gritted his teeth, maintained reason. “And ended up dive-bombing the tree in the dark instead. I suppose I can see how that could happen.”
    “Oh, it was before dark.”
    Ethan made a quick calculation. “Why weren't you at work?”
    “It was your fault, really. If you hadn't left before dawn on that joy junket to the capital, I wouldn't have overslept.”
    “I reset the alarm.”
    “You know that's never enough.”
    True. Getting Janos upright and correctly aimed out the door in the morning was exhausting as setting-up exercises.
    “Anyway,” Janos continued, “the boss got shitty about it. The upshot was, uh -- I got fired this morning.” He seemed to be finding his boots suddenly very interesting.
    “Just for being late? That's unreasonable. Look, I'll talk to the guy in the morning -- somehow -- if you want, and --”
    “Uh, don't -- don't bother.”
    Ethan looked at Janos's sunny, even features more closely. No contusions, no bandages on those long lithe limbs, but he was definitely favoring his right elbow. It might just be from the flyer accident -- but Ethan had seen that particular pattern of barked knuckles before.
    “What happened to your arm?”
    “The boss and his pet goon got a little rough, showing me out the door.”
    “Damn it! They can't --”
    “It was after I took a swing at him,” Janos admitted reluctantly, shifting.
    Ethan counted to ten, and