The Last Hour of Gann Read Online Free PDF Page B

up once, twice, and then lurched into the sky and stayed there. Amber tried to look, but the nearest window was six nervous people away and it mostly showed her the wing anyway.
    The shuttle was tipping as it flew, leaning everyone further and further back in their chairs. “Just a little jump now,” said the pilot, and almost exactly on the word ‘jump,’ there was a tremendous roar behind him and a mighty lurch straight up.
    People screamed in the reedy, I-know-I’m-being-silly-but-Jesus-Christ-not-cool way they sometimes did if the elevator they were on suddenly quit working or some yappy dog on a leash took an unprovoked lunge at them. Some of them laughed a little afterwards as the shuttle ripped them out of Earth’s sky. Some cried instead. Amber squeezed Nicci’s hand and watched the stars come out through the nearest window.
    The roaring noise gradually died away. The shuttle didn’t slow down or right itself, but with nothing but space through the windows to orient themselves around, it seemed to do both. Quite a few people threw up in the courtesy bags provided for that purpose. ‘Spacesick,’ Amber thought, watching everyone’s hair drift.
    Now the shuttle slowed, firing its engines in little lurching bursts while the real ship rolled in and out of view through the windows, impossibly huge. The pilot came on to tell them they had permission to dock and that they’d feel a little bump when the clutch made contact. These words were followed within a few minutes by a loud scraping noise and a thump that made everyone rock sideways in their seats. The lights flickered. People screamed again, laughed, cried, threw up. ‘We sound like crazy people,’ thought Amber, frowning, and she put her arm around her sister and hugged her.
    They waited for what felt like a very long time without anything happening until someone at the window suddenly announced they were going in. Everyone tried to lean over everyone else and look. Amber hugged Nicci and watched the lights dim and glow, dim and shiver.
    According to the pilot, they docked. The clamps engaged. The stabilizers were initiated. Atmosphere was restored—she could see that one for herself when everyone’s hair came down—and the engines were cut. The pilot reminded them not to forget their bags and wished them all Godspeed and a great adventure. The shuttle doors opened. Their safety restraints unlocked.
    No one moved.
    Another perky Manifestor stuck her head inside and smiled at them. “Let’s get going, shall we? Just follow the white line to the boarding hub and an usher will be waiting to direct you to your room! So exciting! Single-file, just like back in school!”
    “My school used the buddy system,” someone said, sounding worried.
    The Manifestor looked at him. So did a lot of people, but her smile was nicer.
    “The n I’ll be your buddy,” she said and held out her hand.
    And just like that, it turned back into an airplane. People started getting up, looking for their bags, muttering and laughing and getting tangled up in their seat belts, and ev erything was fine again. Shouldering her duffel bag, Amber waited for a break in the stream of disembarking people and then joined it, holding her sister’s hand firmly in her own. ‘Just like an airport,’ she thought, stepping onto the painted line. ‘Nothing to worry about. Keep walking. Stay calm. It’s almost over.’
    The queue moved faster t han the one back at the skyport. They were already in space; she supposed there was really no point in anyone dragging their feet anymore. The halls they walked through were clean and well-lit and carpeted, not at all like the grim, utilitarian ships you saw in sci-fi movies. More like a hotel, except for all the shiny metal trimming. There were no windows, nothing to remind them that they were in space. There were a few pictures on the walls in the boarding hub, but they were all of the Director—walking with various dignitaries, frowning