Re-Coil - J.T. Nicholas Page 0,20
lunch, and dinner—and offered a surprisingly wide selection of foods. I selected a spicy chicken and peppers dish served over rice and green tea to drink, and waited the few moments it took the machine to do its thing.
When it was ready, an indicator popped up in my vision, letting me know my lunch was done. I opened the receptacle at the bottom of the machine and pulled out two sealed plastic pouches. Both were warm to the touch, but not uncomfortably so. The larger had a polymer spoon dangling off it and the smaller a drinking straw. I grabbed my food and pushed off from the replicator, gliding toward an empty table. I hooked my foot on the chair—magnetically locked to the floor—and pulled myself down into it. A quick ping from Sarah to the Bannon and the chair’s restraints deployed, settling me comfortably into place. The surface of the table had been designed to hold the surface of the food and drink pouches, so I set them down. A slight tug would free them again.
The procedure seemed complicated to those accustomed to gravity, but it was all too easy to make a mess of things if proper precautions weren’t taken.
Sarah, I asked my agent, any luck on tracking down information on the Persephone?
No, Carter. The Bannon’s Net is as up to date as can be expected, but as yet I have found no mention of the Persephone or the missing crew. At current speeds, we will pass a relay station in approximately fourteen hours. The network should update at that time and I will continue to search the updated information.
Understood. No vessel in deep space had a truly real-time connection with the broader Net. The inverse-square law applied, and as you moved away from a signal’s source, the signal degradation increased at an exponential rate. There was a lot of “farther” to fill in out in the deep. Humanity had combated the problem by setting up relay stations. Rather than using broad-spectrum radio waves, the relays received data via laser beam, a burst-transmission method that could hold together for much greater distances than radio. The relays, in turn, simultaneously sent a laser-burst to the next station and broadcast their most recent information via radio. That meant that any ship who wanted the most updated information—along with all the other detritus that went with the Net—had to plot a course to pass by close enough to a relay station to receive an ungarbled radio transmission.
There was little left to do but wait.
* * *
The familiar roar of Daedalus welcomed me as I strode from the shuttle and into the terminal. The habitat, if it could really be called that, existed as little more than a way station for spacers of all kinds—scroungers, salvagers, shippers, explorers… if you spent more time in freefall than with your feet firmly planted on the ground, Daedalus was a place you could call home. That made the shuttle terminals the busiest part of the habitat, always awash in noise and motion. I made my way through customs and security, then out into the crowds. The rich smells of roasting shashlik and frying blini washed over me making my mouth water. Sarah automatically translated the signage that hung over the hatches along the long promenade outside the docks, the Cyrillic lettering a throwback to Daedalus’ earliest days. The initial diaspora had been along then-nationalistic lines, with the Russian Alliance focusing its efforts on deep-space habitations. Most of the trappings those early settlers had brought with them had faded over time, but a few had clung stubbornly on.
The press of bodies around me made my heart beat a little faster, and I felt sweat dampening my palms. Ships traveled fast, but radio signals traveled at the speed of light. The month spent moving from Prospect to Daedalus was more than enough time for whoever had sent the assassin to discover that it failed in its attempt, track down where I went, and send a message to agents on or near Daedalus to deal with me upon my arrival. After a month of contemplation, I still couldn’t see the rationale in ordering my death. Whatever I may have known before dying, I didn’t know it now. And my backup insurance was up to date, though if I didn’t find a way to earn some credits soon, that wouldn’t hold true for long. But as things stood, a successful assassin would only succeed in taking me out of