Read Jupiter for Free Online Page B

closet space and bureau drawers. He sat at the desk and linked his palmcomp with the wallscreen. The first thing he did was to compose a long, upbeat message to Marjorie, telling her that he had arrived safely at the station and showing her — by swivelling in his desk chair while holding the palm with its built-in video camera in his hand — how spacious and comfortable his new quarters were. Then he sent an almost identical message to his parents, back in Oregon.
    But even as he did so, the memory of that odd appendage sticking out from the station's rim kept nagging at him. A flattened circular shape, like a fat discus. It was big, too: several hundred meters in diameter, at least. It bothered him. After sending off the message to his parents, Grant called up the station's schematics, as he had done countless times on the long journey to Jupiter. Nothing. No reference to such a structure anywhere in his palmcomp's files.
    'Did I imagine seeing it?' Grant whispered to himself. Then he shook his head. He had seen it, he was certain of that.
    He jacked into the station's own files and pulled up the schematics. Nothing there, either. Frowning with puzzled frustration, he scrolled through the station's files. Many of them were marked ACCESS LIMITED TO AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL. At last he found what he wanted: real-time views of the station from other satellites in orbit around Jupiter. At first he was mesmerized by the satellite views of Jupiter itself, the ever-changing kaleidoscope of swirling, racing colors, endlessly fascinating. It took a real effort of will to concentrate on finding views of the station.
    And there it was, the thick torus of dulled, pitted metal, looking small and fragile against the overwhelming background of Jupiter's gaudy, hurtling clouds. And there was that saucer-shaped thing hanging out from one side of the station's wheel, connected only by an impossibly slim tube.
    Grant froze the image and framed the extension on the wallscreen, then asked, 'Computer, pull up the schematic for the indicated image.'
    No response from the computer. His palmcomp merely hummed to itself; the picture on the screen did not change. Feeling nettled, Grant pulled out the keyboard that was built into the desk and connected it to his palmcomp, then typed out his command.
    The screen went blank for a moment and Grant started to smile with a sense of victory. But then ACCESS DENIED appeared briefly and the screen went dead.
    'Damn!' Grant snapped, immediately regretting his lack of self-control.
    Grant rebooted his palmcomp and tried again. He lost track of time, but he was determined to get the better of the stupid computer system. No matter how he tried, though, every attempt ended in the same ACCESS DENIED message and automatic shutoff.
    A knocking on his door finally pulled his attention away from his quest. With a disgusted grunt, Grant got up from his desk chair. He was surprised at how stiff he felt; he must have been hunched over the computer for hours.
    Egon Karlstad stood at Grant's door, a quizzical little hint of a smile on his pale face.
    'You must be somebody special,' Karlstad said, standing out in the corridor. 'Dr Wo wants to see you.'
    'Dr Wo?' Grant asked.
    'As in woe unto thee, rash mortal,' said Karlstad. 'He's the director of the station. El supremo.'
    'He wants to see me? Why?'
    Karlstad brushed a hand through his silver hair. 'Beats me. He doesn't take me into his confidences very often. But when he rings the bell, you'd better salivate.'
    Grant stepped out into the corridor and closed his door behind him. 'Salivate?'
    'Pavlov's dogs,' said Karlstad, starting down the hallway. 'Conditioned reflex and all that.'
    'Oh, I remember… in biology class, back in high school.'
    'I'm a biophysicist, you know.'
    'Really? What're you doing here? Aren't all the biology people at the Galilean moons?'
    Karlstad waved hello to a couple of women coming toward them before he replied, 'All the work on the moons is