Children of the Fleet (Fleet School #1)(85)

This cart-and-track system must have been used before the station was set to spinning, so it was able to carry a tied-down cargo even in zero-gee.

Judging from the tracks, the cart must have seen a lot of use for a long time. But there was also dust on the floor, so … how long had it been since anybody used it?

Since Dabeet had no basis for estimating the normal rate of deposition of dust in this corridor, he had no way to estimate. But it was possible, wasn’t it, that this corridor had fallen out of use since Battle School made way for Fleet School?

Maybe these systems aren’t even used now, thought Dabeet. New and better systems were installed on another level—a more convenient one—and all this was left here because it wasn’t worth the effort to dismantle it. It’s not as if you can do anything else with this space.

He placed a hand against an air duct.

Warm.

So it was in use. And that meant it might fail, and so this access track might still be used from time to time.

Was Bean up here? Or did he do all his exploring inside the ducts, as Monkey seemed to believe?

Well, more fool he, to cram himself into such tiny spaces when he could have walked upright along here.

Only Dabeet wasn’t interested in walking. He had to see how the cart was supposed to be lowered, and whether it still worked.

Lowering it required nothing more than double-palming the control box beside the cart. Immediately four mechanical arms lowered the cart to the floor and then withdrew back into the ceiling.

The cart was in two identical parts. But a little pulling and pushing showed Dabeet that either end could be adapted into a passenger space. Unexpectedly, the rider or driver had to lie on his back and watch his forward progress in a couple of mirrors that popped up on either side. Dabeet crawled into the space, which was designed for a much larger body. For a moment he thought it might be like a car, using feet to control speed and braking—in which case his lack of adult height might make it impossible for him to use the thing.

But no, the controls were all in a single hard-wired appliance that he could hold while lying on his back. Actually, there were two remotes, one on either side, so that left-handed or right-, you could drive using your dominant hand.

Dabeet started pressing the buttons and yes, the cart moved easily and fairly rapidly along. He soon got used to the weird upside-down mirror image of the track ahead of him. And it wasn’t as if there were any obstacles ahead of him. It took very little time for him to complete a circuit of this level. There were four more suspended carts, for a total of five.

When he had the cart back under its hanging-place, Dabeet turned himself over and crawled off the cart. This was designed to carry two adults, at need—one in each half. But kids Dabeet’s size could double up and piggyback. Might be able to carry six or eight kids, depending on the power of the motor and, of course, the battery life.

Double-palming brought the arms back down to pick up the cart and draw it up to the ceiling.

These carts would probably never be useful, because the students would probably never have a reason to flee upward into this top corridor. Yet if they were needed, the carts existed and it might be possible for some of the students to become proficient drivers.

For a moment he thought of waiting to tell anybody until he had really mastered driving a cart while lying on his back looking into a mirror. Then he stifled his ego. It’s more important for as many people as possible to be proficient drivers than for me to have the pleasure of being the best at something really fun.

In fact, he knew that he needed to get the others up here, so that lots of people could be proficient with the carts. And he needed to do it at once, before he talked himself into doing something egotistical and counterproductive.

I really hate this atmo suit, he realized. He was soaked with sweat and it was rolling into his eyes, making them sting. Weren’t there supposed to be temperature controls in the atmo suit?

Oh. That’s right. Dabeet found the temperature controls easily, just where the instructor had shown him when he first came to the station. It helped a lot. Cooler air fanned across his face and he didn’t feel so claustrophobic in the suit.

He couldn’t take off the suit up here. He had to get back down to the level where he found it, and hang it back in its place.

He went down a different ladderway and soon had the atmo suit back in place. Then, still a little sweat-soaked, he stepped out into the corridor.

The others were still conversing in the barracks, and once again they fell stone silent when he entered. “I think you need to see the top level.”

“Not right now,” said Zhang He. “We’re making progress, and we can go up on our own, one or two at a time, after we’ve decided the things we have to decide.”

“Fine,” said Dabeet. Then he briefly told them about the ladderways and the carts. “Imagine if somebody was injured. The cart could get them from one side of the station’s wheel to the other in far less time than walking.”

“Injured people are going to be hard to get up that ladder,” said Monkey, smiling.

Dabeet smiled back. “I guess we’ll have to wait to injure them until they’re already up,” he said.

His message had been delivered. Time for him to leave again, so they could decide how to deal with the problem Dabeet had brought to Fleet School.





15

—Mind-reading is essential to human life, but we’re all so bad at it.