Rogue Galaxy, Episode 1: The Captain and the Werewolf Read Online Free PDF

tapping the wires, and of course if the werewolf ran through one the people at its two ends would have at least some idea where it was. It wasn't possible to use communicators or sensors in the Tubes, because of all the thaumaturgic energy and pockets of hyperwaves floating around (the crazily-twisting Tubes were where the Galaxy harnessed the hyperfield). If a human stayed in there too long he or she might get cancer, or some kind of magical ailment, but the danger was pretty low-level and it would probably take a few days for anything bad to happen. Unless one of the spirits took a special interest in the human; but care had been taken to select non-malicious, relatively uncurious entities.
    Blaine ground her teeth. The werewolf's very presence in the Tubes would probably create trouble—it was one of the supernatural meta-species, and was likely to disrupt the mystical balance. She'd have to refresh herself on the creature's bio-thaumaturgical levels and have the AI construct some models of how those would interact with the Tubes' spirits.
    Plus there were the manito-wave generators, behind the Manito Buffering Panels. That circuitry wasn't even protected by strong paneling, because the spirits that shepherded the waves got claustrophobic—it was the manito spirits' discomfort around matter in general that made them so eager to help push the ship into hyperspace, where, strictly speaking, matter didn't exist. They'd probably get antsy just having guards posted nearby. There were Manito Buffering Panels scattered throughout the Tubes, and a werewolf screwing around with one would be a disaster. Without the ability to create manito waves, the Galaxy would be nothing but a hunk of metal with relativistic thruster power, and it would take it seventy thousand years to get back to Earth. Fortunately, the manito waves also created a high-pitched buzzing, too high for humans to hear but probably unpleasant enough to drive off a werewolf.
    Miller stared at her in shock when they reached him. “Commander Blaine, what are you doing here?” he demanded, and glared at her escort.
    “Relax, Lieutenant-Commander, I ordered them to bring me along. Besides, I might ask you the same question.” A case could be made that Miller's operational importance meant he should have been running things from outside, communicating by couriers. But Blaine knew he wouldn't have trusted anyone else to do the job, and, frankly, she agreed with him.
    She drew Miller away from his team, down the narrow corridor of the Tube with its rounded walls. She was keenly aware that there was a werewolf prowling somewhere nearby. The sinister knowledge seemed incongruous with the clean, fluorescently bright environment of the Tubes. There was no gloom in here, and hardly a shadow.
    “What is it, Commander?” asked Miller, his voice low and serious as he picked up on something obscurely disturbing in his C.O.'s manner.
    “Listen, Miller.” She hesitated before uttering the next words: “I want you to be ready to get your people out of here pronto, in case we have to flush the werewolf out by exposing these Tubes to vacuum.”
    Miller looked her over hard, studying her. “Is that what the captain wants?”
    Blaine realized she had her eyes down. She defiantly raised them now to meet her friend's. Speaking in an even lower tone, she said, “Let's say I'm going to try to help him see what it is he wants.”

FIVE
    E nsign Tracy Fiquet stood in the corner of the room with her hands clasped before her, quietly waiting in case Dr. Carlson or Witch Walsh decided to give her an order. They were sitting at their customary silver plastic table, leaning back in their chairs, gazing into space, speculating aloud about whatever came into their heads. Most of Tracy's days were spent thus, watching the two officers to whom she'd been assigned as liaison chat and brainstorm; the main difference was that today Tracy was more anxious and the witch and doctor less cheerful,