Leviathans of Jupiter Read Online Free PDF Page A

counters and paper shufflers.”
    â€œScooters?” Deirdre felt puzzled. “Bean counters?”
    With a slightly lopsided grin, Corvus explained, “Scooters is a name for scientists. Don’t ask me where it comes from; that’s just what they call scientists at the research station. Bean counters are accountants, the people who handle the budgets and try to keep the scooters from spending too much.”
    â€œAnd paper stuffers?”
    â€œPaper shufflers ,” Corvus corrected. “Administrators. Department chiefs and such. Back a long time ago they actually kept records on paper, y’know.”
    â€œI’ve heard,” said Deirdre.
    â€œWell, let’s find a table. I’m hungry.”
    â€œThey all seem to be filled.”
    Pointing, Corvus said, “There’s one over by the wall with only one guy sitting at it. Maybe he won’t mind some company.”
    Deirdre followed Corvus as he threaded through the occupied tables toward the lone passenger sitting by the bulkhead, beneath the screen displaying the sad, cratered face of the Moon, half in harsh sunshine, half in cold shadow.
    As the two of them made their way across the lounge, heads turned. Men and women alike stared openly at Deirdre. She was accustomed to being stared at and gave no sign of noticing their attention, keeping her face perfectly serious as she walked beside the gangling, grinning Corvus toward the table by the bulkhead.
    As they approached, Deirdre saw why the man was sitting alone. Half of his head was metal. His left arm was a prosthetic; through the open collar of his short-sleeved shirt she could see that the left side of his chest was metal, as well.
    A cyborg. She shuddered inwardly. How could anyone allow himself to have half his body turned into a machine? Then she remembered: The mercenary soldier who had destroyed the original Chrysalis habitat had turned himself into a cyborg. He had murdered more than a thousand rock rats, innocent men, women, and children. Her father had put the man on trial years later, once he’d been captured. Dad wanted to execute him, she knew. But the rock rats decided to exile him permanently, instead.
    Could this be the same person? Deirdre wondered. It has to be, she told herself. A cyborg, half man, half machine. Even his face was half sculpted metal, etched with fine looping swirls, like those tattooed tribesmen from some primitive tropical island on Earth.
    The cyborg noticed them approaching and got to his feet. Gracefully, Deirdre noticed. Not ponderous at all. Like an athlete or a dancer.
    Andy didn’t seem bothered at all by the half-man’s appearance. “Okay if we sit here with you?” he asked.
    â€œYes, of course,” the cyborg answered in a deep baritone voice. “I welcome your company.”
    A simmering suspicion pulsing along her veins, Deirdre sat beside Corvus, facing the cyborg. He remained standing until she was seated, then resumed his chair.
    Before any of them could say anything a squat little robot waiter trundled up to the table, its flat top glowing with the bar menu. Andy tapped the image of a beer, then selected the brand he wanted from the list that instantly appeared on the screen. Deirdre chose a glass of Earthside chardonnay: expensive, but she figured it would be the last of her luxuries for a long while.
    The cyborg already had a tall glass of something dark in front of him. Machine oil? Deirdre wondered, realizing it was a nonsensical thought, a stupid bit of prejudice.
    â€œMy name is Dorn,” the cyborg said. His right eye was gray and somehow mournful-looking, Deirdre thought. His left was a red-glowing camera lens.
    Dorn. That wasn’t the name of the man who’d destroyed the old Chrysalis, she knew. His name was … she rummaged in her memory. Dorik Harbin. That was it.
    Corvus, meanwhile, had stuck his hand across the table. “Andy Corvus,” he said amiably. Dorn