Starfish Read Online Free PDF Page B

impact of flesh on metal.
    "Christ!" Ballard snaps. "I'm turning the externals off right now!"
    Whatever it is gets in two more hits by the time Ballard reaches Comm. Clarke hears her punch a couple of buttons.
    Ballard comes back into the lounge. "There. Now we're invisible."
    Something hits them again. And again.
    "Or maybe not," Clarke says.
    Ballard stands in the lounge, listening to the rhythm of the assault. "They don't show up on sonar," she says, almost whispering. "Sometimes, when I hear them coming at us, I tune it down to extreme close range. But it looks right through them."
    "No gas bladders. Nothing to bounce an echo off of."
    "We show up just fine out there, most of the time. But not those things. You can't find them, no matter how high you turn the gain. They're like ghosts."
    "They're not ghosts." Almost unconsciously, Clarke has been counting the beats: eight — nine—
    Ballard turns to face her. "They've shut down Piccard," she says, and her voice is small and tight.
    "What?"
    "The grid office says it's just some technical problem. But I've got a friend in Personnel. I phoned him when you were outside. He says Lana's in the hospital. And I get the feeling—" Ballard shakes her head. "It sounded like Ken Lubin did something down there. I think maybe he attacked her."
    Three thumps from outside, in rapid succession. Clarke can feel Ballard's eyes on her. The silence stretches.
    "Or maybe not," Ballard says. "We got all those personality tests. If he was violent, they would've picked it up before they sent him down."
    Clarke watches her, listens to the pounding of an intermittent fist.
    "Or maybe — maybe the rift changed him somehow. Maybe they misjudged the pressure we'd all be under. So to speak." Ballard musters a feeble smile. "Not the physical danger so much as the emotional stress, you know? Everyday things. Just being outside could get to you after a while. Seawater sluicing through your chest. Not breathing for hours at a time. It's like—living without a heartbeat—"
    She looks up at the ceiling; the sounds from outside are a bit more erratic, now.
    "Outside's not so bad," Clarke says. At least you're incompressible. At least you don't have to worry about the plates giving in.
    "I don't think you'd change suddenly. It would just sort of sneak up on you, little by little. And then one day you'd just wake up changed, you'd be different somehow, only you'd never have noticed the transition. Like Ken Lubin."
    She looks at Clarke, and her voice drops a bit.
    "And you."
    "Me." Clarke turns Ballard's words over in her mind, waits for the onset of some reaction. She feels nothing but her own indifference. "I don't think you have much to worry about. I'm not the violent type."
    "I know. I'm not worried about my own safety, Lenie. I'm worried about yours."
    Clarke looks at her from behind the impervious safety of her lenses, and doesn't answer.
    "You've changed since you came down here," Ballard says. "You're withdrawing from me, you're exposing yourself to unnecessary risks. I don't know exactly what's happening to you. It's almost like you're trying to kill yourself."
    "I'm not," Clarke says. She tries to change the subject. "Is Lana Cheung all right?"
    Ballard studies her for a moment. She takes the hint. "I don't know. I couldn't get any details."
    Clarke feels something knotting up inside her.
    "I wonder what she did to set him off?" she murmurs.
    Ballard stares at her, openmouthed. "What she did? I can't believe you said that!"
    "I only meant—"
    "I know what you meant."
    The outside pounding has stopped. Ballard does not relax. She stands hunched over in those strange, loose-fitting clothes that Drybacks wear, and stares at the ceiling as though she doesn't believe in the silence. She looks back at Clarke.
    "Lenie, you know I don't like to pull rank, but your attitude is putting both of us at risk. I think this place is really getting to you. I hope you can get back online here, I really do.