Read Cold as Ice for Free Online

coordinated space-borne array of five hundred thousand orbiting telescopes, ranging in distance all the way from Jupiter to Mercury. They had agreed that it was the next logical step in exploring the edge of the universe. And they had further agreed that although the orbit computation and the dynamic control of the array presented formidable problems, the main hurdle was not technical. It would be—and wasn't that the story of every major observing instrument ever built?— financial.
    Until today, SuperDOS had been a paper dream. And maybe it still was. What Camille really wanted to do was to read the incoming-message files to DOS Center. The super-sharp images of M31 and the Earth-type planet within its spiral arm had already been sent, beamed out to the Jovian system and in to Mars and Earth. It was the response to those images, to the proof that DOS's first integrated test had been a whopping success, that would tell if SuperDOS, ten times as big, could become more than a dream in Camille and David's lifetime. And those responses should be coming in right now.
    David trailed behind her as she left the DOS observation chamber and headed for Communications. She could tell from the look on his face that he hadn't got everything off his chest.
    "So you jumped in and grabbed your turn without telling me," he said. "You took advantage of the fact that I was off duty. You deliberately didn't tell me. Pretty shitty thing to do."
    "Don't give me that." Camille glanced back at him over her shoulder, but she floated right on across the zero-gee hub of DOS Center. She was not going to pretend a guilt she didn't feel. "Suppose DOS had come into full operation on your shift and I hadn't happened to be around. What would you have done?"
    She could hear his breathing and feel his presence, drifting along a few feet behind her. He did not answer at once, but silence was all the reply she needed.
    "I'll tell you. You would have trained DOS on one of your stupid, bloody, high-red-shift quasars," she went on. "And when I came on duty, you'd have told me what you'd done, and then I'd have had to lump it—and for a lot longer than a day, too. Your low light levels need longer exposure times."
    "You seem to think everybody's like you." But David's tone lacked conviction. When it came to his sacred experiments, he was no different from Camille. Absolution, not permission. You grabbed observing time now, took the flak later.
    " You certainly are like me," said Camille mildly. "That's why I'm so fond of you."
    She was declaring a truce. They had reached the entrance of Communications. The chamber was empty, but that was normal. DOS Center still ran on a skeleton staff; there were just nine technicians and maintenance personnel, including David and Camille, for a facility that would house over two hundred when the Distributed Observation System was going full bore.
    The incoming-message unit was flashing blue to indicate the arrival of an "Urgent" received signal. All of the on-site staff had learned to ignore it, and the blaring station-wide siren had long ago been disconnected. The ideas of urgency on Earth and Ganymede seldom coincided with the priorities of DOS Center.
    "Let's see how well they like our pictures." Camille scanned the display of incoming messages. "Wait a minute, though. This first one has nothing to do with DOS. It's personal. For you, and it's from Earth. From Husvik. Do you have high-up friends at the capital that you've never told me about?"
    She was making conversation, not expecting an answer. Personal messages were just that. You didn't ask about them. And anyway, David had no secrets from her. But his reaction was shocking. He froze and stood motionless, biting his lower lip.
    "Sorry." She stepped away from the console. "Read it here if you want to, or take a private screen. I'll wait outside until you're finished."
    And that was the next surprise. The offer to leave was made as a formality, but almost always it was