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McCade did likewise, noticing that the ground below had given way to a huge
durasteel plate. Now the words "follow me" disappeared, and were replaced by
"cut repellors." McCade obeyed, dropping Pegasus gently onto the scarred metal
surface.
Moments later he felt a slight jerk, and the metal plate, ship and all, began
to sink underground. It didn't surprise him, since the arrangement was quite
similar to the underground hangars on Alice, which also served to get ships
down and out of the weather.
The rock walls which slid upward around them were as smooth and uniform as
duracrete. Suddenly the walls vanished, giving way to a large, brightly lit
open space, rectangular in shape, and quite uniform in construction. This was
no work of nature but a well-executed creation of man.
The red ball had dropped with them, and now its "follow me" sign reappeared.
McCade fired his repellors again, lifting Pegasus only inches off the deck,
and followed the sphere into a rather generous berth. Once in place, he killed
the drives, and delegated control to the ship's computer. It began a
post-flight diagnostic check on all systems. When McCade looked up he found
the red ball had disappeared.
"Well, gentlemen," McCade said, releasing his harness, "the lady said we
should have a drink, and I
think it would be rude to ignore her invitation."
"Hear, hear," Phil said. "Never let it be said that we were rude."
"I wouldn't think o' such a thing," Rico agreed solemnly, heading for the
lock.
A few minutes later, McCade and Phil waited as Rico set all the ship's
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security systems. It never hurt to be careful.
McCade noticed there were only three other ships in sight, although the hangar
could have easily handled three times that number. One was a beat-up lifeboat,
with a FOR SALE sign painted across its port side in sloppy lettering, the
second was a fairly well-maintained freighter, probably on a supply run, and
the third was a wreck, a twisted pile of junk only vaguely resembling a ship.
Although there was no one in sight, the scaffolding which surrounded the wreck
suggested an optimist at work, someone who thought it could be put back
together. He'd seen a few spaceports even more deserted, but not many.
Rico sealed the ship's lock and then joined them. Together they followed a
series of signs which simply read, "Momma's," through a series of clean, but
deserted passageways. A short time later they descended a steep flight of
stairs, and went through a narrow doorway. Over it hung a sign which spelled
out "Momma's" in pink neon letters.
They found themselves in a large open room. In the tradition of bars
everywhere it was dimly lit and filled with smoke. A huge mirror dominated the
far wall making the room seem bigger than it really was. Below it was a
massive bar of polished black rock. Huge columns of the same stuff reached up
at regular intervals to support a vaulted ceiling. The columns and the high
ceiling combined to give the bar an aura of dignity more appropriate to the
lobby of a grand hotel than a spaceport saloon on a remote frontier
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planet. It was also well furnished and quite clean. A most unusual rim world
bar indeed.
As he approached the bar, McCade felt the other customers watching him. Not
too surprising, since the newcomers were probably the most interesting event
of the day, or maybe the week. Nonetheless he sensed that while most were
simply curious, others had deeper, darker thoughts. He sighed. Some things
never changed.
As they bellied up to the bar McCade found himself face-to-face with the
combination air traffic controller-saloon keeper. "Well, look what the wind
blew in. Welcome to Momma's, and if ya ain't guessed yet, I'm Momma." Her eyes
twinkled, and her chins rippled when she spoke. "Your berth is costin' you two
hunnert credits a day, my rooms are clean, the food's good, my booze ain't
been watered down, and if you shoot anybody in here, you pay for damages and
clean up the mess. Now what'll it be for you, gentlemen?"
"Let's start with some o' that booze which ain't been watered down," Rico said
pragmatically, "and then maybe some o' that food you mentioned."
"An excellent choice," Phil rumbled. "Make that two." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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