Robots -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction
I was happy to find that Jack Ravenhurst knew how to handle a
flitterboat and could sight navigate by the stars. That meant that I
could sleep while she piloted and vice-versa. The trip back was a lot
easier and faster than the trip out had been.
I was glad, in a way, that Ceres was within flitterboat range of
Raven's Rest. I don't like the time wasted in waiting for a regular
spaceship, which you have to do when your target is a quarter of the
way around the Belt from you. The cross-system jumps don't take long,
but getting to a ship takes time.
The Ravenhurst girl wasn't much of a talker while we were en route. A
little general chitchat once in a while, then she'd clam up to do a
little mental orbit figuring. I didn't mind. I was in no mood to pump
her just yet, and I was usually figuring orbits myself. You get in the
habit after a while.
When the Ceres beacon came into view, I was snoozing. Jack reached
forward and shook my shoulder. "Decelerating toward Ceres," she said.
"Want to take over from here on?" Her voice sounded tinny and tired in
the earphones of my fishbowl.
"O.K.; I'll take her in. Have you called Ceres Field yet?"
"Not yet. I figured that you'd better do that, since it's your
flitterboat."
I said O.K. and called Ceres. They gave me a traffic orbit, and I
followed it in to Ceres Field.
It was a lot bigger than the postage-stamp field on Raven's Rest, and
more brightly lit, and a lot busier, but it was basically the same
idea--a broad, wide, smooth area that had been carved out of the
surface of the nickel-iron with a focused sun beam. One end of it was
reserved for flitterboats; three big spaceships sat on the other end,
looking very _noblesse oblige_ at the little flitterboats.
I clamped down, gave the key to one of the men behind the desk after
we had gone below, and turned to Jack. "I suggest we go to the hotel
first and get a shower and a little rest. We can go out to Viking
tomorrow."
She glanced at her watch. Like every other watch and clock in the
Belt, it was set for Greenwich Standard Time. What's the point in
having time zones in space?
"I'm not tired," she said brightly. "I got plenty of sleep while we
were on the way. Why don't we go out tonight? They've got a
bounce-dance place called _Bali_'s that--"
I held up a hand. "No. You may not be tired, but I am. Remember, I
went all the way out there by myself, and then came right back.
"I need at least six hours sleep in a nice, comfortable bed before
I'll be able to move again."
The look she gave me made me feel every one of my thirty-five years,
but I didn't intend to let her go roaming around at this stage of the
game.
Instead, I put her aboard one of the little rail cars, and we headed
for the Viking Arms, generally considered the best hotel on Ceres.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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