Deepsix

Marcel could see the dismay in Ali Hamir's eyes. Ali was Wendy's lead technician. He'd thought there was a decent chance to reconfigure the sca

Marcel blamed himself for the failure at the tower. There'd been time to get to Tess and recover the capacitors had he not relied on the wave projections. He should have hustled them along. He should have insisted they do what they had finally done: split up and make best time for the lander. He and Hutch had discussed it, but she'd believed the danger too great to leave anyone behind. Marcel had gone along with her, reluctantly. Now he saw the magnitude of his error.

Several of Ali's people were seated in front of the operational screens, forlornly watching hundreds of markers blinking. Rubble in the muck beneath the newly created inland sea.

"Hopeless," said Beekman.

Moose Trotter, a mathematician from the University of Toronto and, at 106, the senior member of the mission, had always seemed unfailingly optimistic. But Moose now looked like a man in pain, wandering from station to station, neglecting the work that had brought him there.

Marcel had been asked whether, if the sky-scoop initiative didn't work out, communication with the ground party should be cut off as conditions worsened. Be

Nicholson was getting an update from his engineer when Mercedes Dellamonica called him. "What have you got, Meche?" he asked.

"A delegation," she said. "Maybe a dozen people at the moment, but it looks like more coming. They're unhappy about the rescue effort."

The locator put her on the bridge. "On my way," he said. He called the kitchen and ordered several cartloads of refreshments sent up and then left the operations center and took the elevator topside. He rehearsed his comments on the way. But he was taken aback by the sheer number of angry passengers. More were trying to push into the area from outside.

The exec was standing behind a table trying to talk into a microphone. He strode through, got to Mercedes, and turned to face the crowd.

They got louder. Nicholson knew many of them. He was almost an ideal cruise-ship captain. One of his strengths was that he never forgot a name. Laramie Payton, a building contractor from the American

Northwest, asked the question Nicholson knew would be at the top of the agenda: "What's this about our being welded to that alien thing?"

"Laramie," he said smoothly, "I've explained all that already. There's no danger. You can rest assured I wouldn't do anything that would put the Evening Star at risk. We will be welded, but keep in mind this is a very big, ship. If we need to, at any time, we'll be able to break away from the assembly as easily as you could break an egg. So you just don't have to worry about that at all."

Hopkin McCullough, a British communications tycoon, demanded to know how he could be so sure. "They're talking about pushing that thing down into the atmosphere. How do we know we won't go down with it?"

Nicholson raised his hands. "We have engines, Hop. The fact that we're helping push isn't going to affect our ability to maneuver if we have to. It's just not a problem. Anybody else?"

He gave a few more reassurances. The donuts and coffee arrived. The disorder subsided, and the captain strolled out among his patrons, clapping some on the back, and chatting idly with others. "I can understand why you'd be worried, Mrs. Belmont," he'd say, "but there's really no cause for concern. We're going to rescue those people tomorrow and then we'll be on our way."

PART 3

SKYHOOK

XXVI

There is little that is actually impossible if one is in a position to apply energy and intelligence. It is our willingness to conclude this or that ca

— gregory macaluster, Notes from Babylon

Hours to breakup (est): 54

NEWSLINE WITH AUGUST CANYON

"This is August Canyon reporting from Deepsix, where, as you can see, Morgan's World has become by far the dominant feature in the sty. You're looking at the gas giant as it will appear tonight over the largest continent on the planet, a place aptly named Transitoria, where the Gregory MacAllister group remain stranded.

"A last-ditch rescue effort continues today, in which Universal News will play an integral part. At this moment, the science research vessel Wendy Jay is lying alongside the skyhook counterweight which scientists found here several days ago.

"To fill us in on the details of the mission, Miles Chastain, captain of the UNN starship Edward J. Zwick, is with us, although he's actually speaking from the Wendy Jay, where he's advising the rescue team.

"Captain Chastain, how precisely is-this going to work?"

Miles had just completed mounting lasers in the auxiliary housings on the hulls of four of the shuttles, and was now reviewing the allocation of the shuttle fleet to the needs of the operation. They had a total of seven vehicles: three from Wendy, two from the Star, and one each from the other two ships. He was consequently feeling a bit crowded when he got on the circuit with Canyon. He delivered a few responses that might charitably have been described as curt, and excused himself. But Canyon made it work, emphasizing the point that things were accelerating, that the operation was on the move, and that there was simply no time for small talk. It was all very dramatic. Miles had expected, as he sat down to go over mission requirements, that Canyon would be miffed. Instead, the newsman called to express his appreciation for what he called Miles's performance. "It was superb," he said. "Couldn't have scripted it better." He gri

They landed near a lake, refueled, and then hurried on to pick up MacAllister and Nightingale. It was a gloomy reunion. Hutch got a lot of commiseration. "Nice try," and "You did what you could." And: "Maybe this sky scoop will work."

Kellie remained uncharacteristically quiet.

The reactor switched on as soon as the engines were off, and commenced recharging the various systems. Mac slipped into a seat and commented how good it was to be indoors again.

The ground shook constantly.

"After a while," said Nightingale, "you don't notice it."

Morgan's wide arc was just dropping out of sight, behind the trees. The eastern sky was brightening, and the clouds had cleared off. It looked as if, finally, a sunlit day was coming. "So what about the sky scoop?" asked Nightingale. "What is it? Will it work? When does it happen?"

Hutch and Kellie had received more details from Beekman. But the planetologist, to use Kellie's phrase, had never learned to speak English. The description had been too technical, even for Hutch. She understood in general terms what they proposed to do, but she simply couldn't credit impossibilium with the capabilities they claimed for it. On the other hand, what else had they? "They're telling us day after tomorrow. Local time."

"Day after tomorrow?" Mac was horrified. "Aren't conditions supposed to be a little rough by then?"

"It's the best they can do. Pickup will be out over the Misty Sea. During late morning."