The Pandora Sequence: The Jesus Incident, the Lazarus Effect, the Ascension Factor Read Online Free PDF Page B

the software storage area to the nearest passage. Hali Ekel stood in the passageway beside the hatch waiting for him. She waved a hand, all nonchalance.
    “Hi.”
    Most of his mind was still back in the study. He blinked at her foolishly, mindful as usual of the sheer beauty of Hali Ekel. At times like this—meeting suddenly, unexpectedly in some passage—she often stunned him.
    The clinical sterility of the ever-present pribox at her hip never distanced them. She was a med-tech, full time, and he understood that life and survival were her business.
    The secret darkness of her eyes, her thick black hair, the lustrous brown warmth of her skin always made him lean toward her slightly or face her way in a crowded room. They were from the same bloodlines, the Nesian Nations, selected for strength, survival sense and their easy affinity with the highways of the stars. Many mistook them for brother and sister, a mistake amplified by the fact that true siblings had not existed shipside in living memory. Some siblings slept on in hyb, but none walked together.
    Notes toward a poem flashed behind his eyes, another of the many she brought to his mind, that he kept to himself.

    Oh dark and magnificent star
    What little light I have, take.
    Weave those supple fingers into mine.

    Feel the flow!

    Before he could think of putting this into his recorder, it occurred to him that she should not be here so fast. There were no nearby call stations.
    “Where were you when you called me?”
    “Medical.”
    He glanced up the passage. Medical was at least ten minutes away.
    “But how did you . . .”
    “Keyed the whole conversation on a ten-minute delay.”
    “But . . .”
    “See how standard you are on com? I can tape my whole side of a conversation with you and get it right down the line.”
    “But the . . .” He nodded at the hatch into software storage.
    “Oh, that’s where you always are when nobody can find you—somewhere in there.” She pointed to the storage area.
    “Hmmm.” He took her hand and they headed out toward the west shell.
    “Why so thoughtful?” she asked. “I thought you’d be amused, surprised . . . laugh, or something.”
    “I’m sorry. Lately it’s bothered me when I do that. Never take time for people, never seem to have the flair for . . . the right word at the right time.”
    “A pretty strong self-indictment for a poet.”
    “It’s much easier to order characters on a page or a holo than it is to order one’s life. ‘One’s life’! Why do I talk that way?”
    She slipped an arm around his waist and hugged him as they walked. He smiled. Presently, they emerged into the Dome of Trees. It was dayside, the sunglow of Rega muted through the screening filters. All the greens came with soothing blue undertones. Kerro took a deep breath of the oxygenated air. He heard birds twittering behind a sonabarrier off in heavier bushes to the left. Other couples could be seen far down through the trees. This was a favorite trysting place.
    Hali slipped off her pribox strap and pulled him down beside her under a cover of cedar. The needle duff was warm and soft, the air thick with moisture and sun dazzled through the branches. They stretched out on their backs, shoulder to shoulder.
    “Mmmmmm.” Hali stretched and arched her back. “It smells so nice here.”
    “It? What’s the smell of an it?”
    “Oh, stop that.” She turned toward him. “You know what I mean—the air, the moss, the food in your beard.” She brushed at his whiskers, wove her fingers in and out of the coarse hairs. “You’re the only Shipman with a beard.”
    “So I’m told.”
    “Do you like it?”
    “I don’t know.” He reached out and traced the curve of the small wire ring which pierced her left nostril. “Traditions are strange. Where did you get this ring?”
    “A robox dropped it.”
    “Dropped it?” He was surprised.
    “I know—they don’t miss much. This one was repairing a sensor outside that little