Cushions billowed up from beneath the seat under Ysaye, and she heard the beeping of a dozen different alarms.
They bounced, struck, and rebounded yet again. Ysaye was beyond fear now; she was paralyzed. Nothing in her training or her experience had prepared her for this.
I’m going to die, she thought dumbly. Thought moved sluggishly through the thick sea of fear that flooded her. The hull cracked sickeningly on the next bounce and Ysaye thought she heard the rending of metal.
That was when she mercifully blacked out.
She came to with freezing cold air and snow blowing into her face. The hull had
split open in several places, and she could not believe for a moment that she was still alive. She was not certain how long she had been unconscious, but the cushions had shrunk to flat, fluttering ghosts, and the nets had retracted. They were down, if not quite in one piece. She found herself remembering the old saying that “any landing you walked away from was a good one.”
“Is anyone hurt?” MacAran called, and there was a chorus of ragged “no’s” and
“just bumps and bruises.” MacAran, his hands visibly trembling, tore loose his
restraining straps and stood up. “Sound off!” he ordered, “I want to hear everyone’s name!”
Ysaye took a ragged breath, and responded first—then Evans coughed and
replied, followed by all the rest, Commander Britton last. Satisfied that his charges were neither dead nor badly injured, MacAran turned and climbed toward the door, which he had to wrench open. The rest freed themselves, then crowded behind him, eager to get themselves out of what was no longer a safe or sheltering vehicle.
“Are you all sure you’re all right? Is anyone injured?” Dr. Lakshman asked, she
had automatically grabbed her medical kit and was clutching it to her chest as she peered through the falling snow. A chorus of shaky denials answered her.
MacAran bent to look beneath the shuttle. “We may all be okay, but the landing
gear sure isn’t,” he said. “And let’s not even talk about the holes in her hide.” He looked at the shuttle and shook his head. “I sure never expected to be the one to make the actual test of those crash protections—”
“You did fine, son,” Commander Britton said, putting a fatherly hand on
MacAran’s shoulder. “I don’t think anyone could have managed a better landing in conditions like this.”
MacAran straightened, and took a deep breath, gathering his authority around
him. “Well, crash procedures say you should all get your gear while I break out the survival equipment. So go in there one at a time and get what you can. Take your time.
We’re not going anywhere soon, that’s for sure.”
Dr. Lakshman grimly surveyed the snow blowing freely through what was left of
the shuttle’s cabin. “We’ll have to go somewhere,” she said. “In this weather, we won’t last long if we don’t find better shelter.”
Ysaye shivered, and not just from cold; she felt a chill of new fear. Out of one peril and into another. Had they come all this way only to freeze to death?
CHAPTER 8
“No!”
Leonie started up out of deep sleep, sitting bolt up-right and staring into the
darkness.
She had fallen, from a great and terrible height—she had hit the ground at a
dizzying speed—
She still trembled with fear, and her head rang with the impact.
Except that there hadn’t been an impact. She was here, safe in her bed, in her suite in the Tower.
She held one icy hand against the side of her head, and blinked into the darkness.
A dream—or was it?
A dream of falling…one that left her trembling with the shock of a real blow.
Slowly her mind began to work again as she struggled back to reality. All her life she had heard that, if in a falling dream you stayed asleep and dreamed of striking the ground, you would not wake, but die in your sleep. She was obviously not dead, yet she had definitely struck something hard.
There was still a
They bounced, struck, and rebounded yet again. Ysaye was beyond fear now; she was paralyzed. Nothing in her training or her experience had prepared her for this.
I’m going to die, she thought dumbly. Thought moved sluggishly through the thick sea of fear that flooded her. The hull cracked sickeningly on the next bounce and Ysaye thought she heard the rending of metal.
That was when she mercifully blacked out.
She came to with freezing cold air and snow blowing into her face. The hull had
split open in several places, and she could not believe for a moment that she was still alive. She was not certain how long she had been unconscious, but the cushions had shrunk to flat, fluttering ghosts, and the nets had retracted. They were down, if not quite in one piece. She found herself remembering the old saying that “any landing you walked away from was a good one.”
“Is anyone hurt?” MacAran called, and there was a chorus of ragged “no’s” and
“just bumps and bruises.” MacAran, his hands visibly trembling, tore loose his
restraining straps and stood up. “Sound off!” he ordered, “I want to hear everyone’s name!”
Ysaye took a ragged breath, and responded first—then Evans coughed and
replied, followed by all the rest, Commander Britton last. Satisfied that his charges were neither dead nor badly injured, MacAran turned and climbed toward the door, which he had to wrench open. The rest freed themselves, then crowded behind him, eager to get themselves out of what was no longer a safe or sheltering vehicle.
“Are you all sure you’re all right? Is anyone injured?” Dr. Lakshman asked, she
had automatically grabbed her medical kit and was clutching it to her chest as she peered through the falling snow. A chorus of shaky denials answered her.
MacAran bent to look beneath the shuttle. “We may all be okay, but the landing
gear sure isn’t,” he said. “And let’s not even talk about the holes in her hide.” He looked at the shuttle and shook his head. “I sure never expected to be the one to make the actual test of those crash protections—”
“You did fine, son,” Commander Britton said, putting a fatherly hand on
MacAran’s shoulder. “I don’t think anyone could have managed a better landing in conditions like this.”
MacAran straightened, and took a deep breath, gathering his authority around
him. “Well, crash procedures say you should all get your gear while I break out the survival equipment. So go in there one at a time and get what you can. Take your time.
We’re not going anywhere soon, that’s for sure.”
Dr. Lakshman grimly surveyed the snow blowing freely through what was left of
the shuttle’s cabin. “We’ll have to go somewhere,” she said. “In this weather, we won’t last long if we don’t find better shelter.”
Ysaye shivered, and not just from cold; she felt a chill of new fear. Out of one peril and into another. Had they come all this way only to freeze to death?
CHAPTER 8
“No!”
Leonie started up out of deep sleep, sitting bolt up-right and staring into the
darkness.
She had fallen, from a great and terrible height—she had hit the ground at a
dizzying speed—
She still trembled with fear, and her head rang with the impact.
Except that there hadn’t been an impact. She was here, safe in her bed, in her suite in the Tower.
She held one icy hand against the side of her head, and blinked into the darkness.
A dream—or was it?
A dream of falling…one that left her trembling with the shock of a real blow.
Slowly her mind began to work again as she struggled back to reality. All her life she had heard that, if in a falling dream you stayed asleep and dreamed of striking the ground, you would not wake, but die in your sleep. She was obviously not dead, yet she had definitely struck something hard.
There was still a
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