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that was okay by him. He could understand the need.
Garrett led him back through the ship, past the now deserted passenger lounge with its glowing otter
tank, through the communal dining parlor, back into a world of conduits and throbbing machinery.
They passed though a security door into a small hold-ing area. Two women were swarming over the
MHW, passing instruments over and through the hollow shell. Final checkout, Evan mused.
It was good to see the suit again, an old friend from home. Nearly three meters tall and broad in
proportion, it towered above the humans working around it. The flat gray duralloy exterior was
unmarred, as was the trans-parent plexalloy bubble that would allow him a three
-hundred-and-sixty-degree range of vision. The entry door in the belly stood open.
"Something special, isn't she?" The note of pride in Garrett's voice took Evan by surprise.
"Are you one of the designers?" The two technicians ignored them, intent on their work.
"Who, me?" Garrett laughed. "No, I'm just a field rep. I had a chance to do some work with the
prototypes for this beauty. It's nice to be in on the first use of the first fully operational model."
Evan admired the smooth exterior lines. "You have to admit it doesn't look like much."
"Not from the outside, no," Garrett agreed. "I think the appearance is intentionally deceptive. This suit
will take care of you and comfort you, provide for you, and even entertain you in everything from near
absolute zero to a few thousand degrees above. I won't list her toler-ances for you because you're
probably familiar with them already and it would take too long to read them off."
"They didn't tell me anything on Samstead about main-tenance."
"No need to. The suit can take care of itself for a full year, and you'll be down below a lot less than that."
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"I hope so. Surely it doesn't stock enough food and water for that long?"
"Power yes, food no. It's packed with concentrates and it can synthesize plenty more. Flavor the stuff,
too, I'm told. As for your defense systems, the suit will explain everything to you."
"So I was told. There wasn't time for much in the way of hands-on instruction."
"Not needed. A six-year-old could run this suit. Once you get inside and key it, it'll fill you in on anything
you need to know. Once keyed it will respond only to your voice and your body's signature. It's damn
discerning. Wait till you have a chance to use the chameleonics. Not true invisibility, but the closest we've
come."
Evan nodded absently, took a last look at the interior of the ship. Ire was anxious to be on his way.
Triumph and glory awaited. Well, a commendation and promotion, anyway. The company didn't go in for
the flashy stuff.
"Might as well get on with it."
Garrett noddedand spoke briefly to the pair of tech-nicians. They lingered over a last check, reluctantly
moved aside. Evan stepped up to the ladder which protruded from the belly of the suit.
"Key activation MHW eight oh six."
"Activation key," the suit replied in a pleasantly mod-ulated voice. "Welcome, wearer."
Garrett nudged Evan in the ribs, grinned proudly.
" Ray name is Evan Orgell. I will be inhabiting you during the visit to and exploration of the planet below.
What further identification do you require?"
"None, Mr. Orgell. Recognition and key complete." With awhirr , the suit knelt, rendering the ladder
super-fluous. One of the technicians removed it. "Come aboard."
"Thank you." Ignoring the two female techs, Evan removed his leisure suit and stowed it in the
appropriate compartment inside the right leg of the MHW. Clad only in his underwear, he bent and
entered.
There was enough room inside for him to stand up and turn if he wished to, but he was content to settle
himself into the snug, thickly padded operator's chair high up in the chest. His arms and legs slid neatly
into the waldo sockets provided for them.
The suit was now tuned to his own muscular system. Experimentally he tried his limbs. The far more
powerful limbs of the suit responded accordingly. If he desired he could tear the starship apart piece by
piece.
A voice reached him from outside, picked up by the suit's aural receptors. "Everything look okay,
Orgell?"
"Outstanding. I take it you're going to put me down close to the station?"
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"As close as we can. The drop coordinates are pro-grammed into the suit and it will handle any
necessary adjustments of the parasail."
"Something I've been curious about from the begin-ning. Why don't we use the ship's shuttle?"
"You ought to be able to guess the answer to that one," Garrett said somberly. "We've taken every
precaution, but there's still no way of telling for certain if we're being shadowed or not. If we are,
long-range scanners could pick up the movement of a shuttle. No way can your suit's drop be detected. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]