Eyes of the Calculor Read Online Free PDF Page A

know. What I says is that lightning is always lightning, you just can't tame it. My, we were runnin' about with pails of sand and water, he were lucky that the cottage didn't burn down."
    "How amazing! We were far from all that. Close to nature. That is the saying of all hikers: Close to nature, close to Deity."
    "Aye, yes, that's good. Where are you folk from? You don't sound like locals."
    "Hah, you are very observant. We are from the Central Confed-
    eration, on a holiday. The Confederation Guild of Accountants Hiking Club. See, my papers."
    "Oooh. Sorry, like, I don't read."
    "We have just hiked from Kyabram. Lovely city."
    "You hiked from Kyabram? Gor, you're lucky to still be alive and carryin' your purse. Dangerous country, freebooters, you know."
    "Really? We were not told."
    "You should always check at the city constable's watchouse."
    "Really? In future, we shall do that always. Now we are going to Rochester to see the sights."
    "Rochester, eh? My Garren once went there. He were beaten up and robbed."
    "Really? We must be careful."
    Their accents were unusual to the girl, but their Austaric was easily intelligible. Minutes later the white form of a pedal train appeared on the paraline tracks, and the Titan's survivors gathered together as the long bentwood and canvas pedal train reached the wayside. The train's guards eyed the group carefully before deciding that they were harmless. They climbed aboard into the pairs of double cabins, settled into the benches, and prepared to push. The train's captain blew his warning whistle, then everyone aboard strained against the pedals as the brake blocks were released and the long, sleek train glided out of the wayside.
    Seegan was alone in his cabin, and felt like doing anything but pedal for the two hours needed to reach Rochester. The Titan was gone, ripped from the skies by a disaster that should not have been possible. It had been built of independent modules, yet every system on the gigantic aircraft had failed. How? he kept asking himself. Sabotage? That was unlikely, as most of the Titan had been inaccessible. Somehow it had been just too big to crash, to be aboard the Titan was like walking on solid ground. He pushed listlessly at the pedals, thinking of the captain. He had gone down with the stricken giant, he had taken responsibility for the catastrophe that was none of his doing. Beyond the window slit the late winter sun was slowly climbing in the northeastern sky. The pedal train began to slow for the next wayside. They were to pass through Cooper and
    the junction town of Elmore before reaching Rochester itself. Cooper wayside was even smaller than Stanhope, and there was only a single figure on the platform. A shuffling, weary figure, bowed with fatigue, all muddied and—the watch officer scrambled to open his cabin's hatch.
    "Fras Terian, over here!" he called, even before the pedal train had stopped.
    He raced back along the platform, then escorted the captain up to his cabin, talking loudly all the way.
    "How many times have I told you, stick together when we go hiking. There are freebooters in this country, you were lucky you weren't robbed. The rest of us were worried sick about you. In here, there's a space in my cabin."
    In all, the captain of the Titan had saved seven out of twenty-two who had been aboard, including all of the women and children. His stricken craft had taken almost three hours to crash, but he had been there until the very end. Now he did not even have the strength to pedal. He sat listlessly, watching the sky, trees, and pastureland.
    "So, the crash was not too bad?" asked Seegan.
    "No crash is good," Terian replied.
    "But it was good enough that you survived."
    "What can I say? I stood with my back to a bulkhead and waited. There were a few lurches, then everything wrenched and collapsed around me. I burst through the bulkhead, hit the one behind that, broke it too, and ended up in the control cabin. Everything was silent. The