Icarus Read Online Free PDF Page B

feet wide on each side, with a
table and settings for four, and a pair of large rectangular display screens on
one of the walls. Against the wall opposite the screens was a large,
comfortable-looking leather couch that appeared to be new, save for a small
tear that had been repaired on one of the back cushions. Beside the couch and
occupying a corner of the room was a small, wooden cabinet. Opening the
cabinet, Shawn found the captain’s personal liquor stockpile.
       Well, Dick did say to make myself at home, so why not?
       Shawn withdrew a tall bottle containing a blue, unnamed liquid. With
no label on the bottle, Shawn knew he’d have to investigate this oddity the
old-fashioned way. He swirled the liquid around the half-empty bottle, seeing
with approval that it had about the same consistency as Terran whiskey. Upon
uncorking the bottle, he was assaulted by the smell of something akin to a
mixture of anti-freeze and liquid propellant. He smirked at the bottle and
withdrew a glass from the cabinet, setting them both on the tabletop. Shawn
poured himself half a glass, swirling the liquid in his cup as he remembered the
last time he and Frank Brody had flown together. He looked to the view port in
the starboard wall, out to the luminous points of stars as they streaked by,
and further beyond, to a distant sector in the old Outer Sphere.
       Shawn held the glass up toward the window in a toast. “Here’s to you,
Commander Franklin Brody. You were the best damn wingman a guy could ask for.”
He downed the glass in a single gulp and, giving the view one final glance,
left the captain’s wardroom in search of the observation deck.
     
    * * *
     
       Within minutes of leaving the wardroom, Shawn realized that he was
very likely lost. He’d passed several computer terminals—not to mention
crewmembers—that he could have queried as to the whereabouts of his
destination, but his old determination had begun to resurface, and he’d been
sure he could find the observation deck without too much trouble. After fifteen
minutes of going nowhere, he looked at his watch and saw he would be late for
his appointment if he didn’t get his bearings straight. Why do they have to
make every one of these damn corridors look so similar? When another
crewman approached him, a rather plain-looking fellow—save for his single,
unblinking eye—Shawn inquired as to the location of his destination.
       “You got me, sir. I’ve never laid my eye on it. If you’re lost, I’d
suggest trying one of the computer terminals.” And with that, the young man was
on his way, whistling an obscure tune Shawn couldn’t place.
       “I doubt that,” Shawn muttered under his breath when the ensign was
out of earshot, deciding that cursing the officer’s ignorance was beneath him.
He turned a corridor and came upon a computer terminal, its display screen
cycling with images of planets and nebulas the Rhea had visited in the
last six months. Shawn watched the slide show for a moment before an image of
Minos came up, its crystal clear waters and tropical breezes beckoning him to
leap into the screen and get back to his old life as a humble trade merchant.
He laughed at the current impossibility of the daydream and pressed his
identity card on a flat panel on the terminal’s side.
       “Ready for query,” the fervent feminine voice responded.
       “Observation deck.”
       “Acknowledged. Observation deck: a large compartment on the ship that
provides a nearly unobstructed view of the surrounding space. The first
observation deck in space was installed on orbital research station Alpha-4,
placed in First Earth orbit on date—”
       “I don’t need a history lesson, okay?”
       “Acknowledged,” it responded in almost detectable sorrow. “Stopping
playback. Ready for query.”
       “Location of observation deck.”
       “The observation deck is on deck three. Ready for query.”
       “I’m on deck three.”