Emile and the Dutchman Read Free Page B

wide face smiled knowingly. "Don't you feel somehow different, being under another sky, looking out at a view that no more than ten other humans have ever seen?"
    I looked him in the eye and answered honestly: "Not really."
    Norfeldt laughed, clapping a hand to my shoulder. "Like I said, krauthead, just maybe you got possibilities." He leaned over my panel and punched a strobing square button, then sat back in his couch, pulled a fresh cigar—well, a new one, anyway—out of his pocket, turned his ashtray up to a loud hiss, then lit the cigar.
    He clasped his hands over his ample belly. At least he was wearing clothes that once could have been called a uniform. "Kurt, Ari—break out the poker table. We got two weeks till we hit dirt."

IV

    "How's it look, Emmy?" The Dutchman belted himself into his couch.
    I nodded. "Not bad, Major." I tapped at the screen. "That's the best landing zone, if you want to make contact at that village."
    "Does mean a bit of a hike if we have to go out and meet the locals."
    "Yes, sir, but it's flat enough to give me a bit of room to bring the shuttle down."
    "Oh? You need a lot of room for error?" He flicked a finger against his own wings. "Back when I was using these for a living, I didn't."
    I didn't answer that. For one thing, I didn't believe that the Dutchman had been all that hot a pilot in his youth; he didn't have the look. For another, anything I said to that effect was sure to get me gigged for insubordination.
    I pointed at the monitor. "Maybe you want to pick another village, sir? The nearest flat ground to the village you picked out has no margin for error, not unless we blast something clear."
    "Hmm." Norfeldt puffed on his cigar for a moment, then examined the stub and pitched it into the oubliette. "Shit. I guess I can use the exercise. We'll do it your way."
    Trying to ignore the way the white-and-blue bulk of the planet overfilled the screens, I ran the ballistics program again, just to be sure.
    "What are you doing, Emmy?"
    "Everything's fine, sir. The comp knows where we are, and there's nothing else in this sky; I should be able to rendezvous by radar, if necessary."
    He snorted. "Kid, if we have to depend on you to pantseat it back up here, we're in deep shit. Some problem with the computer?"
    "No, sir. It's just stan—"
    "Academy chickenshit, again. Emmy, if we ever lose the computer, we're dead. So don't waste your sweat taking precautions against it."
    "But—"
    "Shut up. How much margin do you figure to have? About a klick-second of delta-vee? At best?"
    "Almost."
    He pulled another cigar out of his pocket and stuck it in his mouth, unlit. Even the Dutchman wasn't fool enough to smoke during a reentry; a bit of ash accidentally hitting me in the eye could mean me dumping the shuttle.
    "Exactly," he said. "You're not good enough to pull a ground-to-orbit seat-of-the-pants rendezvous with just a klick-second margin. Nobody is. So don't worry about it, eh? That's why we have tell-me-a-hundred-times built into the astrogation module."
    He turned to look at McCaw and Buchholtz, who were belted in their couches. McCaw sat back, his eyes half closed, while Buchholtz stropped his Fairbairn knife intently.
    The Dutchman sighed. "Put the sticker away, Kurt; we're undocking."
    Regretfully, Buchholtz gave the blade a quick buffing, then slipped it into its sheath.
    "Quit stalling, Emmy," the Dutchman said. "According to the comp, we've got about three minutes to undock, or we have to wait an orbit." Norfeldt waved his cigar. "You're on. Let's see how hot a pilot you really are."
    You don't use a joystick for point-to-point in space; I unshipped it, locking it into its socket with a solid chick ,then cracked my knuckles as I settled myself into my couch. I thumbed for some wing just for practice, and then gave each of the pedals a trial push.
    "Stand by," I said. I armed and pushed theundockbutton, and then pulled my harness just a bit tighter as the shuttle thunk ed itself loose