New Earth Read Free Page B

fleshy face. “Top o’ the morning to ya.”
    He was a solidly built man from the University of Dublin, just about Jordan’s own height but thicker, heavier in the torso and limbs. His jowly face almost always displayed a quizzical little smile, as though the ways of his fellow humans amused him slightly. Or puzzled him.
    Thornberry was wearing a loudly patterned open-necked shirt hanging over rumpled trousers. He looked as if he’d just comein from an afternoon picnic.
    “And a very pleasant good morning to you, sir,” said Jordan. And he thought, I’ll wait until they’re all here, the whole team together. No sense breaking the news eleven separate times.
    “Well, we made it,” Thornberry said, jabbing a finger toward the wall screen.
    “It’s uncanny, isn’t it?” Jordan said. “It could be Earth’s twin.”
    Thornberry shrugged. “It is whatit is.” Heading toward the dispensing machines, he added, “I’ll let the scientists argue about how the planet could be so Earthlike. Me, all I’ve got to do is set up a working base down there on the surface and tend to me robots.”
    Pecking at the food dispensers, Thornberry pulled out a thick sandwich of beef cultured from the biovats, and a tall glass of chilled fruit juice.
    “They should havepacked some beer aboard for us,” he grumbled as he brought his tray to the table where Jordan was sitting.
    “No alcoholic beverages,” Jordan reminded him. “The health and safety experts agreed on that.”
    “Ahhh,” Thornberry growled. “A bunch of pissant academics with water in their veins.”
    Jordan smiled at the Irishman. Then he remembered that he too was hungry. He went to the dispensers and selecteda salad from the ship’s hydroponics garden. Then he returned to his cooling tea and sat down beside Thornberry.
    “Wasn’t your hair darker?” Thornberry asked, his thick brows knitting.
    “It was,” said Jordan, unconsciously fingering his mustache.
    “Do you feel all right?”
    “Yes. Fairly normal,” Jordan replied as he sat down next to Thornberry. “A little shaky. I wonder how effective the memoryuploading really is.”
    “Good enough,” Thornberry said. “I can remember what we had for dinner the night before we left. And the Guinness that went with it.” Then he sank his teeth into his sandwich.
    “And you?” Jordan asked. “How do you feel?”
    Thornberry swallowed before answering, “All right, more or less. Cold. Deep inside, I feel cold. I don’t know that I’ll ever feel warm again.”
    “Psychosomatic,I imagine.”
    “Oh? And who made you a psychotechnician?”
    That stung. Of the dozen men and women on the ship, Jordan alone was neither a scientist nor an engineer. He was merely the head of the mission.
    As brightly as he could manage, Jordan changed the subject. “The artificial gravity system seems to be working fine, after all these years.”
    Thornberry shrugged. “It’s just a big Ferris wheel.Nothing exotic about it.”
    “No, I suppose not.”
    “Here we are!”
    Turning, Jordan saw his younger brother, Brandon, entering the wardroom, together with Elyse Rudaki, the Iranian astrophysicist.
    Brandon looked like an improved edition of Jordan: younger, taller, handsomer. Brandon’s nose was thinner, nobler, his eyes a shade lighter. When he smiled he could light up a room. Like Jordan, he worea turtleneck shirt and comfortable denim jeans.
    Elyse looked like royalty: tall, slim, elegant, her sculpted face unsmiling, utterly serious. Her complexion was light, almost pale, a stunning contrast to her thick, lustrous dark hair, which she had piled high on her head, making her look even taller, more regal. Although she was wearing a casual blouse of light blue atop darker slacks, Jordanpictured her in a glittering red and gold sari.
    But he thought she seemed somewhat uncertain of herself, as if slightly disoriented from drugs or drink. The upload, Jordan told himself. It’s not perfect. Then he thought, Perhaps