The Mind Field Read Online Free PDF

headfirst. That was a mistake. It went against everything they had trained for, and would throw off their aim.
    She was going to take two steps and use the edge of the door as her final push–off point. Speed wasn’t the issue here. Accuracy was. In raw space, you followed Newton, regardless of the rules that an interstellar starship violated along the way.
    She looked around once, confirmed the rope, the assistant, the Science Officer.
    Deep breath for extra oxygen.
    Go.
    One step. Second Step.
    Darkness.
    Free flight.
    As pure as one could get outside of an atmosphere.
    There.
    Target acquired.
    Coming in slowly, as planned. Others would have jumped too hard, and come into their target so fast they bounced off before hand and foot magnets could grip.
    Damn it.
    She was going to miss a little high and a shade right. After setting a new Neu Berne record for accuracy at this sort of range.
    It would be just far enough away that she would not land on it first shot.
    Not having a radio was good. She could give voice to all the profanities she usually just howled in her head at such failures. Space didn’t care. It couldn’t listen.
    Okay. Better idea.
    She signaled her assistant to shorten his lead significantly.
    She continued to fall. The nearest edge of the machine passed three meters to her left, just below her.
    She braced as the line bit.
    There.
    Pendulum.
    Djamila jack–knifed her upper and lower body together quickly, then relaxed. She reached the end of the rope and snapped down and left. She had missed, but only a little and not so much that they had to draw her all the way back in and send her out again.
    The image of Javier as a fly–fisher nearly made her lose her concentration. It was a very good thing that in space, nobody could hear you giggle.
    Instead, the line touched the side of the satellite and provided a fulcrum point. She swung slowly around the back of the mine, letting the line snug down and pull her in, like an ice–skater pulling her hands in as she twirled.
    Contact.
    Ferric hull. Generally smooth. Sensor bulbs there, there, and there. Maneuvering pulse thrusters on six points each, at both ends of a smooth cylinder some eight meters diameter and twenty meters long. Ship killer.
    She looked around carefully. This was where they ran out of script. Had the designer anticipated this stunt and put a point–defense system in place to clear boarders? It suggested a level of paranoia and sadism well beyond anything else he had done so far, but who could ask someone dead for five hundred years?
    Nothing moved. So far, so good.
    Djamila detached the limpet mine from her waist and rested it against the hull of the satellite. Low–level magnets would hold it in place enough for her to work.
    Stop. Look around quickly, and then slowly.
    Nothing jumped out and shot her. Or bit her.
    Good enough.
    She armed the primary magnets and set the timer to ten seconds. It would be close, but not that close, unless her number was absolutely up.
    Quick look around. Nothing sneaking up on her.
    Flip the big red switch. Armed.
    Push the button.
    Run like hell.
    This time, she just aimed in the direction of Storm Gauntlet . Distance counted way more than accuracy. She needed to be gone fast. If it worked, she was still attached to the ship. They could reel her in like a trout.
    Again. Javier as a fly–fisher. She continued to giggle at the image.
    Flash of light bright enough to cast her shadow on Storm Gauntlet’s hull.
    In an atmosphere, something that big would have deafened her for days. And possibly pulped her with over–pressure shock waves.
    Another advantage of space.
    Storm Gauntlet’s hull grew into a wall in front of her. She twisted and jack–knifed until legs were down and she was almost falling. Style counted here, at least with her people.
    If you are going to demand excellence, prepare to give it.
    She could still see the sign over the exit from the Senior Midshipman’s Dorm at the Neu Berne