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 Got it, sir, Marlowe announced.  Bearing well, the nearest edge of the
enclosure s about thirty-nine starboard, ten nadir; range, ninety-five
thousand kilometers.
Roman nodded as the corral or, rather, the ovoid computer-enhanced shape
marking its invisible boundaries appeared, centered, on the scanner display.
He tapped for a tenfold magnification; repeated the procedure
 Good God, Kennedy murmured, peering at her own display.  When they say
they re going to bring the space horses home, they don t fool around, do
they?
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Timothy Zahn - Warhorse
 No, they don t, Roman agreed, feeling just a little staggered himself. The
last time he d seen the corral, back when he d arrived to take command of the
Amity
, there d been perhaps a half-dozen space horses wandering around inside the
enclosure; now, the place was almost literally packed with them. Moving
restlessly about, visible only as pale slivers of reflected light from the
system s star, it was oddly reminiscent of the view through a microscope at a
drop of swamp water.
Distantly, Roman wondered if the Tampies had ever noticed that; but almost
certainly they had. The recurring and circular patterns of life and nature
were, after all, the backbone of Tampy philosophy.
 Must be two hundred space horses in there, Marlowe commented, sounding awed.
With an effort, Roman shook the philosophic contemplations from his mind.
There was work to be done.  It s supposed to be the bulk of the Tampy herd,
he told
Marlowe.  Or fleet; or whatever it is they call it. Anyway. Get on the radio
and contact that space station headquarters of theirs we need to warn them
about the dust sweat trails their space horses have been leaving. He tapped
the intercom.
 Dr. Tenzing?
 Right here, Captain, the other said, sounding distracted.  Hang on a minute;
the spectroscopic data from the fire is starting to come in.
Which would show or perhaps only hint at whether or not Sleipnir s own dust
sweat trail had been adequately destroyed by the fire. Though even if it had&
Roman grimaced. Even if it had, the worst part of the job was still ahead.
Tracking down and obliterating the trails from all the systems the Tampies had
brought that many space horses in from would be a horrendous task, quite
possibly beyond the aliens own capabilities. But if the Starforce could be
persuaded to help in exchange, perhaps, for continued access to space horses
 Captain? Across the bridge Marlowe half-turned, a frown creasing his
forehead.
 I m not getting any response from the corral station.
 Keep trying, Roman ordered, something cold settling into his stomach as he
turned to his scanner display. The station s cylindrical shape was centered in
the view, looking just about the way he remembered it from the last time.
Except&
 Kennedy, he said quietly,  start a full scan of the area. Anomalous motion,
and tie in both the space horse and shark recognition programs.
 Yes, sir, she said, her voice grim.
Roman looked up, to find Ferrol frowning at him.  Trouble? the other asked.
 I m not sure. Roman nodded at his display.  The last time I was here there
were three Tampy courier ships tethered near the station. Now, there aren t
any.
Ferrol frowned at his own display.  It may not mean anything, he said slowly.
 They could be off helping in the general round-up or something.
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 Having left this batch all alone?
Ferrol didn t answer. Roman turned back to his own displays, feeling the
abrupt
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Timothy Zahn - Warhorse tightening of tension around the bridge. Kennedy was
doing a three-dimensional spiral search, he saw, scanning outward to ever
increasing distances from the ship.
It was a standard military pattern, designed to quickly locate the most
immediate dangers to the scanning ship. But if there was something happening
far away&
 Ferrol, call the
Scapa Flow
, he ordered the other.  Have them start a long-range search pattern with
their anomalous-motion program.
Ferrol threw him an odd look, but nodded.  Yes, sir.
Roman keyed his intercom.  Sso-ngü? How s Sleipnir holding up?
There was a pause.  He is& troubled, Rro-maa, the Tampy said at last.
 So are we, Roman told him, glancing at the visual. Still nothing showing but
stars.  I want you to head us toward the corral enclosure; two gees ace/dec
course.
Another pause.  Your wishes are ours.
He keyed off the intercom and returned his attention to his displays.
Kennedy s scan was out to ten thousand kilometers now. Still showing nothing.
A moment later he was pressed gently into the sides of his chair as Sleipnir
turned toward the corral; felt the growing pressure backwards as the space
horse began accelerating toward the two-gee goal he d ordered
And without warning was slammed with bone-jarring force deep into his chair.
 Sso-ngü! he shouted.  What in ?
 Anomalous motion! Kennedy snapped.  Coming up behind us fast.
 Marlowe, get a reading on it, Roman ordered, his mouth suddenly dry.
 I m on it, sir, Marlowe gritted.  Looks like a group of vultures& confirmed.
Reading about fifty objects, some of which may be telekened boulders. Closing
at approximately fifteen gees.
And according to the tactical display they were already swinging outward, far
enough to stay clear of Sleipnir s telekene range as they passed.  Try the
comm laser, Roman told him.  See if you can do some damage. Kennedy, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]