Authors: Anne McCaffrey
Show-off
, Peter said, imaging himself grinning, though he was careful not to let the smile show on his face.
Coetzer and Abubakar had no such reservations.
Just then, a wave of increased mental stress reached Peter. One of the most constant fears of the nonpsychic was that telepaths could read their minds all the time. Why a telepath would
want
to was rarely considered. Mai Leitao was broadcasting her fear that the general and that awful boy knew “all” about her. Peter promptly turned her off in his head.
Taddesse inserted the file in her notepad and studied it.
“Even
after,
” and the Secretary emphasized the word, “we have put a stop to such shortages, there will not be a significant savings in fuel costs. My office is committed to enlarging First Base as the jump point for the Mars project. We can’t have one without the other.” Abubakar leaned back in his chair, politely inclining his head to the admiral.
“Padrugoi Station is also committed to both projects. That’s why General Greene and Mr. Reidinger are here.”
“General Greene is known for his assistance,” Abubakar said, and lifted his eyebrows inquiringly.
“Mr. Reidinger taught me all I know,” Johnny said.
“The—‘Kid’ ” was what Alicia Taddesse did not say out loud but it hung in the pause that followed. “I find that hard to believe, General.”
“Don’t,” said the admiral. “We have never made public the role Peter Reidinger played in foiling Ludmilla Barchenka’s White-Coat Mutiny. Without his timely assistance, you might have had to deal with
her
on this subject.”
Abubakar cleared his throat noisily. “I didn’t know.”
Alicia Taddesse was surprised, Georg Fraga was dumbfounded, Colonel Watari incredulous, Cyberal curious, and Lance Baden’s smile was broad. Peter did not look in Mai Leitao’s direction. Some part of him was very pleased with the reactions. But that was not professional and he was going to need all his professionalism to cope with whatever came next.
You’re right there, lad
, Johnny said.
But he’s a kid!
Alicia’s public mind shouted in denial.
“Mr. Secretary, the security was ‘need-to-know.’You need to know that Peter Reidinger was the most important factor in quelling the Mutiny. He was not of an age to be added to the roster of the Parapsychic Center then, but he has been with us now for several years.”
“He’s the one who, ah,” and Georg Fraga paused.
“The one who untangled the freighter and put it where it belonged, yes,” the admiral said. He gave Peter a grateful nod.
“The general and I worked together,” Peter said firmly, deepening his voice to sound older. He noticed that Johnny raised one eyebrow as everyone regarded him.
“Actually, to be truthful, Peter shifted the freighter. I was too busy rounding up containers before they got too far away.”
Why did you say that?
Peter demanded, trying to keep his face from registering his dismay.
You’ll see
.
That’s what I’m afraid of
.
You’ll let these mundanes misjudge you?
“He’s the strongest telekinetic on Earth,” Johnny went on, oblivious to Peter’s serious attempt to shut him up. “Right, Lance?”
“Right, General.”
“And
he’s
your solution to the fuel cost rise.” Alicia Taddesse demanded
simultaneously with the Secretary’s excited “He can kinetically reach the Moon from Padrugoi?”
“He already has,” Lance put in. “If the colonel will oblige?”
“Oblige? Oblige in what way?” and Watari was suspicious.
“You will remember that we were in urgent need of certain chips, Colonel, on the tenth of May last year?”
“Yes, I do. How did you manage—?” The colonel broke off, goggling first at Lance and then in Peter’s direction.
“Would you access that proof of delivery, Cyberal?” Lance asked the major, who bent to an unseen notepad.
“Yes,” and the blond officer frowned as the record came up. “Sergeant Gendro collected a bag from the vehicle parking field.”
“The third bollard from the right?” asked Johnny.
Peter seethed, felt Johnny raise his shield against him for the first time in their long association.
“Yes, you’re correct. How did you know that detail, General?” Cyberal asked.
“That’s where I told Peter Reidinger to put it.” Johnny waited a moment to allow that information to be absorbed. “You have a time registered for the delivery?”
Cyberal nodded, spoke a few commands, and a window opened up on the conference screen and showed a replica of the May 10 date and early morning hour.
“Very interesting,” and Secretary Abubakar gave Peter an approving smile.
That the admiral had not known was obvious to Peter but Coetzer concealed that behind his broad smile.
“The bag only weighed three kilos,” Peter said, hoping to forestall what must be inevitable.
“Well,” Alicia said with a condescending little smile and twist of her elegantly clad shoulders, “three kilos is scarcely something to brag about.”
Peter felt a surge of anger for such belittling.
Hold that thought, Pete
, Johnny said so sharply that Peter blinked. While the general’s public manner was relaxed and slightly amused, Peter sensed Johnny Greene felt the same way about Taddesse’s dismissal as he did.
“Three kilos?” Colonel Watari asked eagerly.
“In point of fact,” Lance said in a languid drawl, “we very badly need that shipment from Chipsink.” He consulted his wrist pad, “Waybill number 51161708 that cleared Jerhattan terminal at 0845 today. Brought up to Padrugoi with the Secretary’s party, I believe.”
Commander Chatham was already tapping in the designation. “Yes, we have it on board.”
“It weighs five kilos, Peter.”
Every eye was on him, and he felt trapped.
Not trapped, Pete. It’s just show time for the doubters
.
Five kilos today, five hundred tomorrow, five thousand the next day
. Peter felt perversely rebellious as well as anxious. He sternly reminded himself that this was what he had dreamed of doing when he was lying in hospital, what he and Johnny had talked about doing. He thought of how he’d just
jumped
into the accident with the
CeeCeeD
and did what had to be done, including shifting the freighter out of the way. Everyone was turned toward him, faces friendly and faces decidedly skeptical. He caught the ironic gleam in Johnny’s eyes, subtly reminding him of that early morning in Adelaide Center. Damn General Greene for springing it on him without warning. Then he saw Alicia Taddesse’s haughty and dubious expression, the stunned incredulity on Georg Fraga’s face, the bland query on the Secretary’s, and the hint of anxiety in Admiral Coetzer’s eyes. Okay, Peter, he said to himself. It is show time. Five kilos! Only a question of mathematics.
“May I see the shipment?” His voice sounded unusually calm for someone about to make history—officially—with the longest distance teleport.
“Certainly, sir,” said Chatham, and a window opened to the transit bay, showing an innocuous white plastic shipping carton, #51161708 clearly stenciled in black on the side.
What he could see he could ’port. He “felt” it to heft its mass. He tapped into the ship’s generators. Had Johnny warned Engineering to be ready? He didn’t much care. He wanted to alter the expressions on the faces of Alicia Taddesse and Georg Fraga. Scare the living daylights, for once and all, out of the stupid, intolerant Mai Leitao, and prove himself to the admiral. And especially to Johnny Greene, who was waiting, all but breathless, to see what Peter would decide.
Peter leaned lightly into the generators; no sense plowing the package into the surface of the Moon. It was only five kilos. He “saw” the bollard as
he had “seen” it that morning in Adelaide; he didn’t need the shadow of the moon crawler. Been there before. Can do it again. He ’ported the carton.
The tension in the room was palpable. Peter let it sit there for a long moment. First Johnny, then Lance began to smile.
“Lance,” Peter said, “since Sergeant Gendro’s already collected one delivery at that bollard, perhaps you could rely on him again.”
Johnny let out a cowboy roar, clapping his hands over his head and swinging himself around in his chair in an excess of jubilation. The admiral grinned broadly and settled back relieved. Commander Chatham and, in the corner, Nicola Nizukami were also smiling. The Secretary alone appeared to keep his cool but the expression on Alicia Taddesse’s face was one of shocked and dismayed surprise.
So she’d thought he couldn’t do it? Peter thought, not letting any sign of triumph leak into his expression. He’d shown her! And himself!
At the end of the table, Georg Fraga looked unexpectedly worried and Mai Leitao collapsed across the table, knocking over her glass of water.
“Medic on the double, admiral’s conference room,” Commander Chatham said into her wristcom. “Yeoman, bring me more water.”
Peter rescued Leitao’s notepad and lightpen and “lifted” Barney’s serving towel to soak up the spill.
“What did you do to her?” Alicia Taddesse demanded of Peter, glaring at him. She had jumped to her feet but made no move to assist her colleague.
“Peter did nothing to Mai Leitao,” Johnny replied sharply to the CFO. “She did it to herself.”
“How could she—?” Taddesse began and, seeing the fury on the general’s face, broke off.
How could she think I’d do anything to another human being?
Peter said, close to panic.
Stupidity, Pete. Pure stupidity. Calm down. You have done absolutely nothing wrong today. Nothing!
“Miss Leitao seemed a little unnerved by,” the Secretary began, paused, and started again, “by reaching the Station so quickly.”
Fraga had his fingers around her limp wrist. “She’s got a pulse,” he said reassuringly. Commander Chatham touched Leitao’s throat and confirmed that with a brief nod. Helpfully, Nicola held out a glass of water.
A discreet tap on the door heralded the arrival of the medical team.
Peter was overwhelmingly relieved to see Ceara Scott leading them. She gave him the briefest but most emphatic encouraging nod as she made a quick examination of Mai Leitao.
“She fainted.” she asked in a nonjudgmental tone, looking around the table.
“It would appear so, Dr. Scott,” the admiral said. “We have no idea why.”
“I’ll want to know exactly what caused a perfectly healthy woman to collapse, Doctor,” Taddesse said in a gritty voice.
“Of course,” Ceara said with a nod of her head, and gestured for the gurney team to approach. Deftly she and ratings transferred the slight limp body to the litter, blanketed it, and left the conference room. Peter didn’t know why but Ceara’s presence had unaccountably relieved him. “We’ll do a full scan as soon as we get the patient to sick bay.”
“Thank you,” Alicia Taddesse said. She sat down again and moved her notepad into precise alignment with the edge of the table. “Colonel Watari, have you recovered the five kilos?”
“Not yet.” The colonel was startled.
“It takes time to suit up, Ms. Taddesse,” Lance said. “So where were we?”
“We are nowhere, Mr. Baden, until that sergeant returns with proof of delivery,” Taddesse said, closing her lips in a firm line.
“I don’t see how you can entertain doubts, Ms. Taddesse,” Lance said. “Peter sent it. Ask the CIC engineer what readings he had on the generators.”
“What good does that do?” she demanded of Lance.
“I think you failed to assimilate the significance of General Greene’s file, Ms. Taddesse,” said the admiral in the gentlest of tones, which should have warned the CFO.
“The significance is, if I may, Admiral,” the Secretary interrupted, also in a mild tone, “that every telekinetic thrust can be recorded.”
“And is, especially here on Padrugoi,” Johnny said, a malicious smile on his lips, “so there is scientific proof that kinetic energy has been expended in a gestalt with the Station generators.” He waved his hand toward Nicola, back at her workstation. “Please ask Lieutenant Bergkamp to forward the last five minutes of generator usage to our screen.”
“Aye, sir,” she said with alacrity.
With equal speed, another small window opened on the bottom of the monitor. It displayed readings in three categories, which were described as elapsed time, generators at rest, and usage. The slight surge as Peter made the brief gestalt was duly recorded.
“I don’t believe those figures,” Taddesse said belligerently.
“And tell me why we should wish to deceive you, Ms. Taddesse?” the admiral asked.
She pointed her finger at Peter, her eyes flashing with anger, incredulity, and fear.
“I cannot, absolutely cannot, believe a boy that young could send even three grams all the way to the Moon. It’s over 400,000 kilometers from here!”
“Mathematics, Ms. Taddesse,” Johnny said, “which you as a CFO should certainly appreciate. Ten tons of equipment 440 kilos from Earth’s surface to Padrugoi or five kilos 400,000 to the Moon. Peter has the range.”
“Does boggle the mind,” the Secretary remarked tactfully. “But then, the mind, ah, minds,” and he nodded apologetically to Johnny Greene, “that could transport some five hundred kilos of personnel carrier from the Earth’s surface to Padrugoi this morning do not have to prove themselves to me. It is greatly to the benefit of our entire program, CFO, that the ability is at this moment in time available to us. Otherwise,”—his voice softened—“we might have to look for new jobs.”
Unconvinced, Alicia Taddesse folded her arms in front of her, her eyes flashing and darting about the conference room, her lips thin with denial.
A comunit blip startled everyone.
“Admiral? Commander de Aruya. Dr. Scott said you wished to be told as soon as we had examined Ms. Leitao. She is conscious and I’m treating her for shock. The MRI scan shows no cerebral damage or cardiac failure. Ms. Leitao is anemic, requires other essential minerals as dietary supplements, and stands in need of a holiday. I would hazard the guess that she’s been working much too hard or has been under severe pressure lately. She should be well enough—I beg your pardon.” Those listening heard a thin background noise and the doctor had evidently turned away from the comunit, his voice fading. “When you have a private moment, Admiral, I’d like a few words with you.”