Pegasus in Space Read Online Free PDF Page A

of Barchenka.
And Mallie says nothing?
    Nothing she can articulate
, and his mental voice was definitely troubled.
You’ll all come, won’t you? Peter can ’port the three of you to Gate 134 at
the Jerhattan Space Port at GMT 0900 tomorrow. I’ll be there
. Then his mental touch disappeared.
    Rhyssa sat back in her chair, propping her elbow on the armrest and her chin on her hand. Peter had to be there, more than she? Hmmm. Well, Peter was the strongest kinetic. Even stronger than Johnny had become, once the former etop pilot got the hang of how Peter used generator gestalt to assist a launch. Peter would be thrilled to pieces to be at the Inauguration. In fact, Rhyssa had had to talk sternly to herself when VIPs all over the world had received their invitations and the Eastern Parapsychics hadn’t received any. They were not, as a group or singly—despite the enormous help they had been to the difficult Barchenka—anywhere on her list of preferred guests.
    Rhyssa examined the invitation, running the tip of her finger over the raised engraving, and felt the “tingle” of an encoded line. Well, obviously one did not get into the Inauguration without presenting
this
card.
    “Hmmm. Taking no chances, huh, are you, Ludmilla?” So there was a top-level security effort? As well there should be, she thought. And yet, Rhyssa frowned, why? Few could, or would, sabotage Padrugoi now it was built. The cost—in human lives as well as effort—had been staggering, including the on-completion bonus for Barchenka. The project had had the enthusiastic support of every nation; it meant a way
off
overcrowded Earth, to the habitable planets already identified in this sector of the galaxy. The first generation ship had been built in space over twenty years ago and launched to Procyon, eleven light-years away, from the old, now-defunct Space Station. Since then, in speedier spaceships, other journeys had been initiated.
    Well, Rhyssa wanted badly to go to the Inauguration. Now she would, and so would Peter. And Dave would, too, for their sakes. As she called up her nonpsychic husband’s office number, she heard a scratch at her door. Had she been “broadcasting” the news that loudly?
    “Come on in, Peter,” she called.
    The door opened and Peter’s invitation disappeared from her desktop and reappeared in his hand.
    “I don’t believe it, Rhyssa, I don’t believe it,” he chortled, clutching it to his chest. “What took ’em so long? And who else is coming with us?”
    “Dave’s coming.”
    On cue, Dave answered her call. “Yes, Rhyssa?”
    “Take the day off tomorrow. We’re going to the Inauguration. I’ve got the invitations.”
    “We?”
    “You, Peter, and I,” she said, controlling the impatience she sometimes felt when he didn’t pick up on what was so vivid in her own mind.
    “Left it a bit late, haven’t they?” Dave said in a dry tone of voice.
    “Johnny Greene said it was the difficulty in arranging passenger space when so many have to get there on time,” Rhyssa replied, though that really didn’t wash as a valid excuse.
    “Gee, Rhyssa,” and Peter’s facial expression was mixed confusion, annoyance, and surprise. “I could get us there.”
    “Yes, I know, dear,” Rhyssa said. “However, we do have the formal invitations, complete with the integral security code.”
    Peter’s eyes widened.
    “That’s good. I’d hate to be spaced because I had a bogus invite,” Dave said. “See you tonight.”
    “Security codes?” Peter tore open the envelope and put the invitation against his cheek to feel the embedded security. “Wow!”
    “Double wow! Not even my skeleteam,” and Rhyssa rose from her desk and came around to ruffle Peter’s hair, “would be able to enter Barchenka’s lair without the proper code.”
    “Oh,” and Peter lifted his eyebrows, running his finger over the code. His expression altered to “naughty boy.”“I could!”
    “We’ll be legal tomorrow,” Rhyssa