"FWLS28" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)A Future We'd Like To See 1.28 - The Run
By Twoflower (Copyright 1993) Several star systems and a wide, wide expanse of nothing. That's how far I had to cover in five minutes for the run. I strapped in, clenching my teeth as the neurostimulants were injected into my right arm. The shuttle's engines warmed up, running several self diagnostics on the warp coils and hyperspace drives. The self-buckling elastic webbing wrapped itself around my torso, in front and behind. I checked with the computer, to make sure the cargo was secure and kept at the correct temperature levels. It was absolutely crucial that the cargo be maintained at acceptable levels; my fate depended on it. Nerves on edge as the stimulants mixed with perfectly innocent blood cells, I breathed a silent prayer, braced myself, and tapped the LAUNCH button. The shuttle tore through the atmosphere, leaving a smoking crater behind on the launching pad. The stimulants kicked in, disorienting my brain enough to make it ignore the incredible G forces. After leaving the planet's grip of gravity, the webbing tightened, holding me into my seat. The main window, the windscreen as it were if there were any wind to screen, went as my ship shot through hyperspace at warp speeds. I tried to keep a firm eye on the navcomp and keep from passing out as my brain swam in a sea of synaptic fluids. I had to do some very fast computations to avoid slamming into some planets. As usual, the company hadn't programmed the nav computer correctly. The timer ticked down, at the 2 minute mark, reaching the dead-end limit of zero. Strange displacement- induced visions danced by my range of vision. I swallowed them down and concentrated on the green blip, the destination, as it approached at unimaginable speeds. I grabbed desparately to my spinal column to keep it from shooting out of my back. The chair slammed more stimulants into me as the ship lurched out of warp and reentered pure hyperspace, then slipped out of that with a sickening groan. My body was in five places at once, each place being defined as 'not fun'. The webbing tightened even more, to the point where I couldn't breathe, as the ship flew screaming down out of the atmosphere, preparing for a hopefully soft landing at the coordinates. Various traumatic childhood memories picked the worst time to surface. Tears, phlegm and saliva ran together in pools at the back of my helmet. I comforted to sanity, which was busy panicking and crying like a baby who had just been terrorized by an anal thermometer, and |
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