William Shatner - Quest for Tomorrow 01 - Delta Search

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Delta search Quest for tomorrow [158-011-2.5]

By: William Shatner

Synopsis:

First book in the Quest series.

"The key to the stars is the key to the empire. And to a young man's

future... Young Jim Endicott has but one dream--to attend the Terran

Space Academy, the gateway to the stars and the far-flung civilization

known as the Confederation.

But unbeknownst to Jim, he has a secret encoded in his DNA. A secret

that threatens an empire. A secret that his parents (or those who

claimed to be his parents!) have sworn never to reveal, on pain of

death.

Jim's Academy application sets off an explosive chain of terror,

hurling the young man into an adventure beyond his wildest dreams. In

his new life, he plumbs the depths of the "Pleb" underclass of the

galaxy's outcasts, and soars through the forbidden reaches of

cyberspace.

With the help of a beautiful fellow outlaw named Cat, who is as tough

as she is tender, Jim begins to unravel the shocking truth about his

own origins--and uncovers the fatal deception that has split a bitter

humanity into warring factions bent on mutual annihilation.

And in the process, Jim learns that he has one more enemy then he

guessed--and one more friend than he knew.

Harper Paperbacks A Division of HarperColVmsPublishers 10 East 53rd

Street, New York, N.Y. 100225299

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues

are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as

real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is

entirely coincidental.

book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written

permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations

embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address

HarperCollins Puhlishers, 10 East 53rd Street, New York, N.Y. 10022.

HarperCollins", &! , Harper Paperbacks , and Harper Prism , are

trademarks of Vla.rperCo\msPublishers Inc.

Harper Paperbacks may be purchased for educational, business, or sales

promotional use. For information, please write: Special Markets

Department, YiarperCo}, 10 East 53rd Street, New York, N.Y.

100225299.

ISBN: 0061052744

Printed in the United States of America First printing: February 1997

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Shatner, William. Delta search: a novel / by William Shatner. p. em.

-- (Quest for tomorrow) ISBN 0-06-105274-4 (hard) I. Title. II.

Series: Shatner, William. Quest for tomorrow.

PS3569.H347D4 1997

813 '.54-dc20 96-35484

CIP

Visit Harper Paperbacks on the World Wide Web at

http://www.harpercollins.com/paperbacks

97 98 99 *:* 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Man must have bread and butter, but he must also have something to

lift his heart. This program is clean. We are not spending the money

to kill people. We are not harming the environment. We are helping

the spirit of man. We are unlocking secrets billions of years old.

FAROUK EL BAZ

Skylab: Next Great Moment in Space

Advanced civilizations--if they exist--aren't breaking their necks to

save us before we destroy ourselves. Personally, I think that makes

for a more interesting universe.

CARL SAG AN

So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When duty

whispers low. Thou must, The youth replies, I can.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON

DEDICATION

Youth is not wasted, as some learned sage said, on the young. It is

indeed a grace note on the slighly aging. I happen to know, for I am

aging, slightly. But, into my life has walked, run, pummeled, and

pounded a youth of such energy and beauty as to be extraordinary. And

so, I dedicate this book to the woman who has brought me youth and

energy, love and passion, inspiration and not some little perspiration,

Nerine, The Beloved .. .

--also Along with that youthful theme, this book is dedicated to the

young reading public of today. Hopefully some of the youthful members

of the world will find in our hero inspiration, not only in terms of

what Jim does, but also in discovering the magic of reading .. .

weaning themselves away from the hypnosis of television to take a

voyage into imagination.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Bill Quick is a terrific writer and is, as I'm sure he's been told many

times in his life, quick--to write, to think and to be creative. My

debt to him for this book goes far beyond acknowledgment.

The wonderful editor, John Silbersack is the engine powering this

vehicle.

Caitlin Blalsdell and Carmen La Via

PROLOGUE

The hunters had arrived even before Kate shouldered open the door to

the dilapidated little Pleb-unit she'd illegally subleased from its

rightful occupant in San Francisco's Hunter's Point district. She

glanced up at the sky as she juggled two bags of groceries and a large

pack of disposable diapers through the doorway. "I'm home." There was

no reply, nor did she expect any--Carl was still at work, pretending to

be a bartender, and Jimmy should still be sleeping--but she smiled at

her moment of whimsy. The smile transfigured her tired features and

made her seem young. She was young, though she hadn't looked it for a

good while. She had a strong, wiry frame, not tall, but condensed,

sketched in the clear lines of her movements: sharp and controlled and,

despite her exhaustion, vital. Her eyes punctuated her face,

startlingly blue, intense, so that they seemed larger than they really

were. Her hair was that sandy blond that made one think of lions; it

was cut mid-length, wavy, springing up here and there in random curls.

Her mouth was strong and determined beneath a little nothing of a

nose--the only nondescript feature on her foxy, high-cheekboned face.

There was a spray of fine lines at the corners of her eyes, as if she'd

spent a lot of time looking at distant horizons, and if those misty

distances were as much imagined as real, who was to say? When she

moved, she always managed to look as if she knew exactly where she was

going. She wore dirty sneakers, faded jeans, a man's blue denim shirt,

and a heavy silver bracelet--a single hard circle, like

punctuation--around her left wrist. If you were a mugger, you'd leave

her alone.. .. ' She crossed the shabby living room that smelled of

stale cabbage and set her bags on the chipped counter in the kitchen.

An indeterminate sound from the bedroom brought her head up. It

sounded strange--not a baby sound. The movement electrified her with

the air of a lioness sensing hidden danger. A terrible alertness

burned in her fierce blue eyes as she pushed a wave of blond hair away

from her face. Her purse was next to the groceries; she opened it and

took out a black maser pistol so large it seemed ridiculous in her

small hand, a joke or an unreal toy. But there was nothing childish in

the way she cocked it with a deadly little buzz. "Who's there?" But

in the wan yellow light of a cheap ceiling glow strip there was only an

unmade bed and the silent wide-eyed baby swaddled in his nest of

sheets, staring greenly at her. Jimmy, awake now. No charming little

bassinet or trendy cyberbuggy for him. Not when his life might depend

on how quickly she could scoop him up and run. She raked the little

room with her fierce gaze, then went to the closet and flung it open.

Nothing there. Slowly, her rigid muscles began to relax. She exhaled,

and it seemed all the strength flowed out of her with that breath. But

his face, flower like had turned to follow her movement, and now he

offered her a toothless, trusting grin that made her want to weep. This

was no life for him. Or her, either. As if anybody had a choice. She

picked him up and pulled him to her, marveling at the delicacy of his

skull, the tiny perfection of the fingers he wrapped around her thumb

with sudden amazing strength. She kissed the top of his head and

whispered, "Strong little thing, aren't you? Sure didn't come from

your daddy, did it? But you're special, yes, you are." Then, a soft

catch in her throat: "I love you, baby. If only your daddy wasn't such

a pure-dee bastard, this would be a life, wouldn't it?" After she put

the diapers to good use and rocked him to sleep, she retrieved the

maser pistol and switched off the light. Then she stood there a long

moment, not knowing whether to cry or just blow her brains out. No, it

was not a life, was it?

order, like punctuafflugger, you'd leave her '(smelled of stale caber

in the kitchen. Horn brought her head all of a lioness sensin- i to

her fierce blue eye (born her face. Her purse * --' took out a blaci

small hand, ajoki Ish in the way shi glow strip there was. I baby

swaddled ir my, awake now. n( ' for him, Not where li scoop him up aru

"' then went to thler rigid muscle. flowed out of he: ned to follow he

trusting grin that Or her, either. A he battered black grav-van

looked like a wire head war wagon as it hovered silently above the curb

on the opposite side of the street from the Pleb-unit. For several

moments nothing happened. No movement was visible through the

impenetrable mirror-windows, and no sound but the sigh of the hydrogen

engine barely audible above the rising evening wind. City repair crews

no longer bothered to replace blasted-out lenses in the streetlights

that floated randomly overhead, their once precise patterns shattered

by computers no one bothered to maintain and program properly anymore.

This was a ghetto, after all. Darkness came early and hard here,

pierced only by occasional hysterical laughter and the popcorn spatter

and vicious buzzing of sporadic gunfire. A strange calm emanated from

the vehicle; one yonder boy lost in a wire head daze, entered that

zonal quiet, registered a befuddled stare, and staggered limply to the

other side of the street. He was long gone when the curbside doors of

the van whispered open on frictionless bearings, and four shadows

ghosted seamlessly into deeper shadow. Now the night took on a sweaty

urgency, a musty scent of violence. A squirrel chittered sharply in

protest, then fell silent. The lights in the window of the small house

glowed steadily, brave against the darkness that seemed to press in

against their feeble spark. } In the rusty dark, against the soft

green glare of the instrument readouts, the tension was like tiny

razors, scraping flesh, flaying nerves. It was always like this. They

were used to it--as used to it as humans could get and still remain

human. They were right on the edge of that, though, and sometimes they

crossed over. Tonight might be such a time. A voice whispered: "Lima

Baker, this is Hitter One. We have target acquisition. Kill zone is

optimal. I say again, kill zone is optimal...." After another beat of

time, someone activated a helmet microphone, and said, "Go." is name

was Carl and his last name was whatever they were U using this month.

He automatically checked the crude little card taped to the doorframe,

just as Kate had done, and saw that they were the Johnson family, at

least for the time being. He did not notice the dusty black grav-van

parked across the street and down the block, although he would spend

years berating himself for that uncharacteristic lapse. He closed the

door and activated the electronic dead bolt. He glanced around the

shabby living room as he tossed his backpack onto the sofa. "Kate, you

here?" "The bedroom." He nodded to himself, walked over, and stuck

his head around the corner. "I'm home." She glanced up from where she

sat on the edge of the bed and rocked little Jimmy in her arms. "Such

as it is." He sighed heavily. "I know, I know. We can't go on like

this forever." He paused. "Kate? We've put it off long enough. You

know what I mean...." She looked up at him, her blue eyes widening

slowly. She stopped rocking the baby. "Carl.. . no." He raised one

hand. "I swear it, Kate. I can kill him. I wouldn't even think about

it if I thought it would put you and Jimmy at risk. But it's been

almost a year. He wouldn't be looking for me now. And nobody can

protect themselves against an assassin who knows what he is doing."

She looked down at the sleeping child. "Yes," she said bitterly. "As

long as that assassin doesn't mind getting himself killed in the

process. Carl, I'm a selfish woman. I don't think there is a noble

bone left in my body. I can live with the running and hiding as long

as it's the three of us. But I won't have you sacrifice yourself on

some masculine altar of vengeance--not for our sakes. You understand?"

He stared at her. "I'm not suicidal. And I was never noble. I won't

deny the vengeance part, but I would never risk either of you for

that."

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摘要：

DeltasearchQuestfortomorrow[158-011-2.5]By:WilliamShatnerSynopsis:FirstbookintheQuestseries."Thekeytothestarsisthekeytotheempire.Andtoayoungman'sfuture...YoungJimEndicotthasbutonedream--toattendtheTerranSpaceAcademy,thegatewaytothestarsandthefar-flungcivilizationknownastheConfederation.Butunbeknowns...

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William Shatner - Quest for Tomorrow 01 - Delta Search

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