Worlds in Chaos Read Free Page A

though nothing had violated any explicit prohibition. Thanks mainly to the reticence of the Russians, Southeast Asians, and the Chinese, the world had not actually banned the launching of nuclear technology into orbit. It was just that nobody had thought that any organization outside government would contemplate doing it, while everyone on the inside was too vulnerable to pressure groups and public opinion to want to get involved. Now the regulatory agencies would be vying with each other to placate the eco lobbies by showing who had the most teeth.
    “Anyhow, you’ve done your part,” Fassner said. “The Corpus Christi office can deal with Washington. That’s what it’s got a legal department for.” He clapped Keene lightly on the shoulder and used a handrail to haul himself past to say a few words to the other two. “Hey, Ric, can’t you do something about that grin? You’re dazzling my eyes here.”
    Ricardo’s smile only widened further. “Didn’t we make a meal out of those turkeys, eh?”
    “Joe, you were right on, all the way. So how did the modified RTs handle? Pretty good, I guess.”
    “Like a dream, Warren, like a dream. . . .”
    Keene stowed the last of his gear in an end locker and signed that the technician had retrieved the diagnostic recording chip from his suit. Feeling less restricted now in shirtsleeves and fatigue pants, he exited through a pressure door and transverse shaft outside Number Two Pump Compartment to enter the “Yellow” end of the Hub Main Longitudinal Corridor—the walls in different sections of Space Dock were color coded to help newcomers orientate. More well-wishers, some in workshirts and jeans, others in coveralls, one in a pressure suit, were waiting to add their congratulations as he passed through. He came to “Broadway”—a confusion of shafts and split levels leading away seemingly in all directions, where the hub and the booms connecting the two ends of the dumbbell intersected—and wove his way through openings and between guide rails to the “Blue” well. Several more figures were anchored or floating in various attitudes.
    “You guys made the day, Lan,” one called out.
    “Great stuff, man!”
    “Still ain’t stopped laughin’. Even if it gets the firm shut down, it was worth it.”
    Keene reversed to glide into the transverse shaft feet-first. He pushed himself off, using one of the hand hoops along the vertical rail, and felt the wall to one side nudge against him gently. As he progressed farther, the motion imparted by the rail grew stronger, causing him to move faster with a distinct, growing sensation of heading “down.” By the time he reached the three-level wheel forming the Blue end of the dumbbell, he was using the hoops to retard himself. He began using his feet to climb down ladder-fashion as he passed through the upper deck, and stepped off at the mid-deck to find Joyce and Stevie waiting for him outside Ccoms.
    “Damned good show,” Stevie offered. He was thirtyish, British, and sometimes talked like an old movie. Keene nodded and returned a strained smile. He knew they all meant well, but this was getting a bit tiring.
    Joyce was the senior comtech. She was one of those who did their best to look clean and professional, but her white shirt and sky blue pants, although no doubt clean that day, were showing grime, and there were flecks of grit in her black, close-trimmed hair. That was one of the facts of life that came with the territory. Dirt in zero- g didn’t fall obligingly to the floor and accumulate in out-of-the-way places to be removed when convenient. Despite all the ducts and filters and fans, space habitats tended to be smelly, too.
    She smiled, managing to convey the suggestion of freshness in spite of it all. “Even better than you promised,” she complimented.
    “Always make your surprises pleasant ones,” Keene said, yawning in the close air. “People forget bad predictions that were wrong. But tell them one