Gregory Benford - Furious Gulf

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Don't miss these other exciting novels by Gregory Benford:

ACROSS THE SEA OF SUNS

IN THE OCEAN OF NIGHT

GREAT SKY RIVER

TIDES OF LIGHT

TIMESCAPE

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FURIOUS

GULF

Gregory Benford

BANTAM BOOKS

NEW YORK · TORONTO · LONDON ° SYDNEY · AUCKLAND

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FURIOUS GULF

A Bantam Spectra Book / August 1994

S'£CT,A and the portrayal of a boxed %" are trademarks of Bantam Books, a

division of Bantam Doubleday Deli Publishing Group, Inc.

Book design by Mierre.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any

means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any

information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from

the publisher.

For information address: Bantam Books.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Benford, Gregory, 1941

Furious gulf / Gregory Benford.

p. cm. -- (A Bantam spectra book)

ISBN 0553096613

I. Title. II. Series.

PS3552.E542F87 1994

813' .54--dc20

94-6473

CIP

Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada

Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday

Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words "Bantam

Books" and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark

Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540

Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

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For Joan,

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FURIOUS

GULF

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Prologue True Center

Toby watched his father walk the hull.

Killeen was a silvery figure, his suit tuned to reflect as much radiation

as possible. A mirror man. Slick light slid over him as he moved, shimmering

with the phosphorescence of stars and gas. Toby could follow Killeen's

smooth, slow lope as a rippling warp against the fiery background.

--Dad!--Toby called over his skinsuit comm band.

--What? Oh... --Killeen's surprise came through the fizz of comm

static.--How come you're outside?--

--Crew's wondering how come you're out here so long.-As

Cap'n of the Argo, Killeen could do whatever he liked, of course.

But Toby had felt the growing uncertainty among the officers inside.

Somebody had to act, to say something, so he had pulled on his skintight

suit and come clumping out here. Lately Cap'n Killeen had kept himself

isolated. He came out here to hike over the fat curves of the ship's hull,

often not even leaving his suit comm line open.

Killeen said distantly,--I'm navigating. Watching.-The

big man's watery image flowed, liquid with light, as Killeen came

toward Toby across Argo's blunt prow. His suit momentarily mirrored the

black depths of a nearby molecular cloud, and Toby saw him as an eerie

shadow-man against the distant burnt-orange wash of star-speckled gas.

--You can do that from the bridge,--Toby said.

--Get a better feel for it out here.--Killeen came close enough for

Toby to make out his father's stern expression through the suit's small

vision slit.

Toby knew his father's pinched-face, hedgehog mood, and decided to

cut through it directly.--There's near a dozen more crew on sick report.--

Killeen's lips thinned but he said nothing. Toby hesitated, then summoned

up his courage.--Dad, we're starving! Those gardens we lost,

they're not gonna grow again. Face it!--

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Gregory Benford

Abruptly Killeen whirled, adroitly sliding his magnetic boots in zero

gravity.--I am facing it! We just don't know any more techtricks. Even the

specialists, the green-thumbers, they can't get those ship gardens sprouting

again. No help there. So I'm thinking, got that?-

Toby stepped back involuntarily; Killeen's flinty anger was quick and

daunting. He took a breath and said hesitantly, --Shouldn't... can't we

·.. do something different?--

Killeen scowled.--Like what?--

--Approach some of those?--Toby pointed tentatively.

Far ahead of Argo floated faint metallic dabs of light. Not clouds or

luminous dust. Artificial.

--We don't know what they are. Could be mechwork. Probably is.

Mechs have built plenty near True Center.--Killeen shrugged.

--Maybe they're human, Dad.--

--Doubtful. It's been a fearsome long time since humans lived in

space.--

--That's just what history says. We won't know till we look for

ourselves. We're raiders by heritage, Dad! The Family's itching to get out

of the ship, stretch their legs.--

Killeen gazed thoughtfully toward the blaze of Galactic Center.--One

thing you learn as Cap'n is not to stick your nose into a beehive just to

smell the honey. Those things'Il probably be hostile, even if they aren't

mech. Ever'thing else here seems to be.-

Toby let the remark ride. It had been over a year, but still Killeen had

not recovered from the death of his woman, Shibo. He kept up his duties as

Cap'n but was often withdrawn, pensive, moody. That might have been

acceptable for a crewman, but not for a Cap'n. The price in morale was

getting too high.

Still, Toby thought, Killeen was probably right. They were cruising

directly into the center of the galaxs¢ where vast, indifferent energies

worked. Huge, glowering suns. Incandescent clouds of dust and gas.

Powers far beyond anything mere humans could manage. And somewhere

here, intelligences to match the mad swirl of stars.

He had studied enough history to know that humans had evolved

near a star two-thirds of the way out in the galactic spiral. The galaxy was a

spinning disk, like a toy--only bigger than the human mind could encompass.

Out there at Old Earth, far from the cataclysms of True Center, living

had been easy, quiet.

One of his instructional drills had tried to get him to visualize a box

that was a light-year on a side, the distance light itself could travel in a

whole year. Out there, near the legendary Earth, that box would hold

maybe one single star, on average.

Here, at Galactic Center, such a box held a million stars.

Suns crowded the sky like glowing marbles. Stormy streamers of red

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gas shrouded them. Stars swarmed like angry bees around the central

axis--the blue-white brilliance of the exact center.

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FURIOUS GULF

Toby said quietly,--We could come alongside one of 'em, just for a

look.--

Killeen shook his head.--Solve one problem, maybe, but make another.

A worse one.--

--We're starving, Dad. We have to do something.--

Killeen turned and strode angrily away along the worn and pitted

hull. His magnetos snapped down to the metal with a hard clank that Toby

felt through his own boots. He trotted after his father. Walking here took a

strangely gaited stride, coasting between steps, letting his boot damp just

long enough to get more momentum. Then he jerked the boot free, pushing

forward, and was off on another glide. Toby was good at it but he

couldn't keep pace with his father.

Argo had brought them here at near-light speeds, gulping down

plasma with her magnetic scoops. There was fuel aplenty, thicker and

thicker as they neared the center. Still, random chunks of rock had pocked

and blistered her shiny hull. Now they were coasting slower, and Killeen

used the chance to hull-walk with some safety. Argo had joined the gyre of

matter here, which swung about True Center at one-thousandth light

speed.

Killeen reached a smooth ridge in the Argo's complex bulges and

stopped, as if on the brow of a real mountain, back on the planet of their

birth. Their ship was a last grand construction of their ancestors, a vessel as

big as a hill. Beyond him loomed a vast dark cloud, like a smudge of ink

against the flaming stars.

Killeen turned and looked back at his son. As Toby approached he

saw Killeen's expression shift to a plaintive longing.

--If only there were planets here... --

--Can't be, I heard,--Toby said flatly, hoping to jar their talk back to

realities.

--Why?--Killeen asked sharply.

--Look at these stars! They're flying past each other so close, they

strip planets dean free of their parent sun.--

--Well, that sets planets drifting free, sure. So?--Killeen said stubbornly.

--Sure, free. And frozen. Too far from any sun. No plant life. No

food.--

Killeen peered wistfully outward.--So in all this magnificence, there's

no place for life?--

--Yeasay. Prob'ly none for us, either.--Toby ventured this opinion

mostly to snap his father out of his illusions. Maybe even get him to rethink

this foolhardy venture to True Center.

Killeen gave him a sober, almost plaintive look.--We have to go on.--

--Why? The radiation levels are so high, Argo can barely hold it off.

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Just coming outside here, you're risking heavy exposure.--

--It's our duty, I tell you.--

--Dad, your first duty is to Argo, to your crew.--

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Gregory Benford - Furious Gulf

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