Tides of Light Read Online Free PDF Page B

Center. These had been
     caught by Abraham’s Star and now pelted its planets unmercifully.
    “Bet it makes for a dusty sky down there,” Shibo said reflectively. She thumbed up a speckled orange display which highlighted
     five cometary tails. They lay above and below the plane of the planetary orbits, gaudy streamers that pointed inward like
     accusing fingers.
    Killeen caught her meaning. “I don’t believe, though,” he made himself go on with casual assurance, “that the dust could snuff
     out life. This planet’s suffered infalling grime before. You can see the forests have survived. It can still shelter us.”
    Shibo gave him a wry sidelong glance. She sometimes fed him hints like this, enabling him to seem to have thought problems
     through before they came up. It was a great help in slowly building a crew, Killeen thought, if the Cap’n happened to love
     the Chief Executive Officer. He resisted the temptation to smile, sure that Cermo would guess his thoughts.
    “Any moons?” he asked stonily.
    “None I can see so far,” Shibo said. “There’s something else, though….”
    Her slender arms stretched over the controls, calling forth functions Killeen could scarcely follow. Far out he saw a nugget
     of bronzed hardness.
    “A station.” She answered his unspoken question.
    Cermo gasped. “A…a Chandelier?”
    “I can’t make it out well enough. Could be.”
    Killeen asked, “Can’t we see better? If we wait till we’re closer, could be dangerous.”
    She thought, punched in an inquiry. “No, not this way. There’s another lensing system, though. Needs be hand-deployed on the
     aft hull.”
    “Do it,” Killeen ordered. Of Cermo he asked, “Who’s got suit duty?”
    “Besen,” Cermo said. “But she’s young. I’d—”
    “Use the assigned crew. Besen’s quick and smart.”
    “Well, still, Cap’n—”
    “They’ll never learn if they don’t face problems.” Killeen could remember his father saying exactly the same, refusing to
     shield Killeen from tough jobs when he was a boy.
    He studied the small bronze speck for a long moment, then asked Shibo to give the natural light view. In true human spectrum
     the thing glittered with jewellike warmth, but under maximum magnification he could make out no structure.
    Quite possibly this was a human outpost. Perhaps—Killeen felt a racing excitement—it was indeed an ancient Chandelier, those
     legendary edifices of crystalline perfection.
    He had once seen one through a ’scope on Snowglade, so far away that he could make out no detail. He had caught only the strange
     glimmering presence of it, the suspicion of beauty lying just beyond perception. The possibility of findingsomething manmade, hanging in this roiling vault of troubled sky, was enough to summon up his profound respect and awe for
     the ancient masters who had made
Argo
and the even older Chandeliers. That he might see one closely—the thought made him lean toward the screen, as if to force
     answers from it.
    Besen arrived, a young woman of hard eyes and soft, sensuous mouth. She had a strict crewlike bearing and came to attention
     immediately after entering the control vault. “Sir, I—”
    Killeen’s son, Toby, dashed in through the hatchway before she could finish. He was gangly, a full head taller than Besen,
     and panted heavily. “I—I heard there’s some hullwork needs done.”
    Killeen blinked. His son was flushed with excitement, eyes dancing. But no Cap’n could allow such intrusions.
    “Midshipman! You were not ordered here. I—”
    “I heard Besen’s call. Just lemme—”
    “You will stand at
attention
and shut
up!
”
    “Dad, I just want—”
    “Stand fast and belay your tongue-wagging. You are
crew
here, not my son—got that?”
    “Uh…yeah…I…”
    “Stand on your toes,” Killeen said firmly. He clasped his hands behind him and jutted his chin out at the undisciplined young
     man his own boy had become.
    “Wh-what?”
    “Deaf,