pipes and cables. Big spherical deuterium tanks were plugged into the stress structure at the head of the cones, along with ancillary support equipment and ten small tokamaks that provided power for the main engine ignition sequence.
The Moray docked just ahead of the life support section, nuzzling up to a tunnel that had extended out beyond the star-ship's body. Lawrence had to wait for another twenty minutes listening to the clamor of other platoons banging their way through the orbital-transfer ship's habitation cabins and into the tunnel. Finally, they were given clearance to disembark.
It was a long trek through the starship's freefall corridors to the rotating transfer toroid of their wheel. Inside the top of the wheel spoke was an elevator that was barely high enough to take an adult. They all aligned themselves, tucking the boots into the floor hoops. The G-force built as they descended, much to Lewis's relief. They stopped on the middle of the three decks occupying the wheel itself, where the gravity was an eighth Earth-standard. Enough to settle their stomachs and restore normal circulation patterns. But with it came a disconcerting spinning sensation, as if the decking were about to heave over. They emerged from the elevator, reaching out to steady themselves against the wall.
Every time he came down into one of the wheels, Lawrence swore he wouldn't let the effect trick him again. Every time his body promised him he was about to flip over. He gingerly took his hand away from the wall. 'Okay, I know it feels like we're washing about. Ignore it. You're all down and stable. Let's go find our quarters.'
He set off down the corridor. After ten paces he had to move to one side to avoid Simon Roderick and his retinue of senior managerial staff. The Third Fleet's board representative was so busy snapping out instructions to a harried aide he never even noticed the platoon. Lawrence kept his own face impassive. He'd followed the investigation Roderick and Adul Quan had launched in the wake of the bar fight in Kuranda. His Prime program had loaded unobtrusively into the base's datapool, passively observing the surge of traffic shunting between AS programs, the information requests to skyscan. Their inquiries had withered away after a couple of days, and the police had never turned up anything. Even so, it was a shock coming face-to-face with a board representative who'd taken such a keen interest in his off-base activities.
Roderick and his entourage disappeared up the curve of the corridor, and Lawrence walked on without breaking stride.
The dormitory that they'd been given was probably only double the size of the compartment on the Moray. It had two ranks of bunk beds each with its own locker containing a standard clothes package for everyone, a couple of aluminum tables with chairs and a sheet screen. There was a small washroom next door.
Hal looked around, his face screwed up in dismay. 'Oh man, what is this shit?' he exclaimed.
Amersy laughed. 'Best quarters in the fleet, welfare boy. Lie back and enjoy. You get fed, you get paid and nobody shoots at you. Now find a bunk and make the most of it.'
'I'll go fucking stir crazy.' He made to climb onto a top bunk, only to find his way blocked by Karl's forearm.
'Bottom rung, kid,' Karl said, grinning a challenge.
'Jesus fucking wept.' Hal threw his small bag onto a lower bunk and hopped on after it. 'I can't take these closed-up rooms.'
'You'll put up with it,' Lawrence said. He dropped his own bag on a top bunk, momentarily fascinated by the weird curve of its fall. 'Settle down, all of you; you know the onboard drill. I'll find out what our canteen schedule is, and then we work training and fitness around that. Lewis, how are you feeling?'
'Not too bad, Sarge. Guess the doc was right.'
Lawrence made his way over to the small keyboard set into the wall beside a sheet screen. Platoon dormitories didn't rate an AS program, but the operating system was sophisticated and easy enough to operate. He called up their basic shipboard data: where they ate and when, what the local time was, when departure was scheduled.
'Hey, you guys want to know where we're headed?' he asked.
'Thallspring,' Karl shouted back. 'Didn't they tell you, Sarge?'
Hal gave him a puzzled look. 'How did you know that? It's like top secret.'
Karl shook his head. 'Fuck, you are a big waste of space, kid.'
They were due to depart in twenty-two hours. Lawrence read the Third Fleet data from the screen and muttered, 'Jesus.'
'Problem?' Amersy asked quietly.
Lawrence took a quick glance round the dormitory. Nobody was paying attention to them. 'Seven ships. Is that what the Third Fleet is these days?'
'More than a match for Thallspring. Their population is small, barely seventeen million.'
'Projected,' Lawrence said. 'That's no true guide. But it's not what I'm worried about.'
'The ships?'
'Yeah. Fate! My first mission, to Kinabica, that took seven weeks of spaceplane flights just to lift us and our equipment offplanet. There must have been thirty-five starships on that mission.'
'We don't have that many starships anymore. Not since Santa Chico.'
'Not just there. Second Fleet lost two ships on approach to Oland's Hope. No one projected they'd have exo-orbit defenses. But they did.'
'You want to eject?'
'Hell no. I'm just saying this one could be tough. We're going in too small.'
'They'll cope.' Amersy clapped him on the shoulder. 'Hell, even the kid will pull through.'
'Yeah, right.' Lawrence began pulling menus from the starship's computer, seeing what he could throw up on the screen. He read one schedule and smiled, hurriedly calling up supplements. 'You might want to see this,' he told the platoon. 'You'll probably never have another chance for ringside seats this good.'
The screen brightened with an image from one of Koribu's external cameras. It was centered on the portal, glowing a hazy blue against the void. Colony trains were clustered around like a shoal of eager technological fish.
'Two minutes to the starting gun,' Lawrence announced happily. Despite all he hated about Z-B, he had to admit, they got this absolutely right.
His mood was broken by Hal's petulant voice asking, 'What the fuck is that thing, a radioactive doughnut? Order me a couple of coffees to go with it, Sarge.' He trailed off fast at Lawrence's look.
Lawrence just managed to stop himself from bawling out the kid. He couldn't believe anyone was that ignorant about the most important endeavor the human race was undertaking. But then Hal was just some teenager from a welfare block in some godforsaken city. Lawrence himself had been a teenager with the best education his home planet could provide, as well as apparently unlimited data resource access, and he hadn't known that portals existed. It had been Roselyn who told him.
