"Daniel Marcus - Heart of Molten Stone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marcus Daniel)

Heart of Molten Stone

Daniel Marcus
 A DF Books NERDтАЩs Release

Copyright ┬й1994 by Daniel Marcus

First published in Science Fiction Age, September 1994
An early surveyor, tongue firmly in cheek, named it StyxтАФa river of molten lava running from near Altair
V's north pole all the way down to its equator. It carved its way around jagged spires of obsidian,
meandered across plains of rough, pitted basalt, sent glowing, fractal tributaries sprawling across half the
planet. The first time I saw it, coming down fast out of the bottom cloud layer on approach to North
Station, I felt like I was locking on to a landing beacon from Hell.

Which would not have been a bad name for Altair V itself. Its rocky surface tortured by volcanic
activity, constantly bathed in an actinic, ultraviolet glare from its blue-white primary, cloaked in a wispy
atmosphere of sulfur, ash, and carbon dioxide, it was one of the last places you would expect humans to
try and carve out a foothold. But it had mineral riches beyond imaginingтАФsingle crystals of emerald and
sapphire the size of a jumpship, shimmering pools of molten gold, superconducting metglass splashed
across the lava plains like spilled milk.

There were two mining stations on Altair V. The main station near the north pole served as the planet's
spaceport, such as it was. The finicky mag-fields of the planet were weakest there and the location made
for cleaner navcom. Follow Styx's spidery sprawl down to the equator and you'd hit Deep Station,
clinging like a flea onto a landscape that made Earth's Dakota Badlands look like Avalon.

There was a skeleton crew of humans at both posts, a handful of andys, and a lot of expensive
hardware. The mineral shipments from the planet had broken records at first, then dwindled down to a
trickle in recent months. It was my job to find out why.

A yellow light was blinking on my nav-panel, indicating that I was receiving a carrier for a landing
beacon but it was rejecting handshaking protocol for lock-in. I tongued my radio on.

тАЬNorth Station, this is the jumpshipConrad . North Station, this is Martin, jumpshipConrad . I need a
lock. Repeat, I need lock.тАЭ

Nothing except the hissing whisper of background static in my mastoid speakers and the rushing sound
of my own blood in my ears.

тАЬNorth Station, I need a lock. Goddamnit, wake up down there.тАЭ

Crackle, hiss. тАЬConrad.тАЭ Very weak signal. I boosted the gain. I could barely make out the words
beneath the roar of static. It sounded like two voices. тАЬ...no ... Schwartz ... beacon.тАЭ

тАЬPlease repeat, North Station. Please repeat.тАЭ

Hiss, crackle. тАЬ...turn ... Schwartz ...No! ...тАЭ

What the hell was going on down there?