Read Pegasus in Flight for Free Online

and smell of people and maintenance machineries, he had been totally entranced by the farm.
    Peter knew that there were small green belts throughout the Jerhattan complex; he had even been to several, trying to relive that vacation, but none had evoked the same response in him, being too small and cramped to close out the eternal noise of the city.
    He had found a place, though, where he could float when he got to the proper state of relaxation. It had grass and trees, barely visible in the eerie predawn light. And he was strangely attracted by other inexplicable strands, comforting wisps of thought, enticing him to linger. One in particular intrigued him, and he hovered as close to it as he could, tantalized by a sense of tranquil familiarity.
    All of a sudden he was nearly blinded by powerful lights that flooded the scene. He felt a moment of terror. He could not suppress his scream, steadying only when he heard Miz Allen’s steps. He did not open his eyes until he felt her hand on his forehead and
knew
he was safe back in Bed 7 of Pie Ward 12.
    “What’s the matter, Peter?” Miz Allen always knew if a patient was shamming and she did not tolerate false alarms. Her eyes flicked to the wall panel. “Bad dream?”
    “Yes, bad dream.” Despite himself, his voice quavered, and her expression softened.
    “Yes, your endorphin level shot up. I think you’ll have to have some sleep.”
    Peter nodded, relieved at her decision. “I’ve got VMR tomorrow
 . . .”
He began, but then darkness overwhelmed him.
     
    You scared him off!
Rhyssa accused Ragnar, fuming that someone had triggered her net to alert the Center’s security forces if her pattern spiked during the night. The field lights had blazed up. Moments later she had heard the thrumble of the skycars, shooting off in all directions.
Sascha!
she roared. He was the only one empowered to set surveillance on her!
    Sascha:
We’ll catch the bugger!
    Not that way!
Rhyssa forced controls on herself to disperse the white-hot fury. Sascha had exceeded his authority—even the boundaries of friendship.
    Sascha:
I have not!
    She inhaled deeply, aware that she was still trembling with anger. She expelled the breath right down to her toes, continuing to press downward until her belly muscles were taut.
There was
NO
threat!
    There
was
intrusion!
His mental pattern broke briefly as he responded to some exterior stimulus.
That’s bloody strange,
he said a moment later.
There
was
no intrusion. Not a physical one. Not a blip on any screen that can’t be accounted for. And nothing—read that—nothing in our airspace.
    An emergent!
Rhyssa colored the thought with satisfaction.
That is, if you haven’t scared him out of his Talent!
She sent an image of herself turning back onto her stomach, hauling the duvet in its pastel print tightly around herself, and dragging a matching pillow firmly over her head—which was what she did.
     
    “An emergent from where?” was the question that circulated the Control Room.
    “Who’s awake at four o’clock in the morning?” Sascha asked.
    “I can do a probability curve,” Madlyn suggested, “eliminating all the obvious shift workers.”
    “Why eliminate them?” Budworth asked.
    “If they’re working, they’re not doing o.o.b.,” she replied.
    “And who says this is an out-of-body job?” Sascha asked, turning on Madlyn with surprise.
    “What else could it be?”
    Sascha grinned. “You may very well be right, Madlyn, and it’s so obvious I wonder none of us thought of it before. Okay, who would go o.o.b.?” It was a leading question to which he already had an answer.
    “Someone who doesn’t like the bod they’re stuck with,” she replied.
    “But o.o.b.’ing
is
Talent,” Budworth said, “and all of ’em are registered, so they have better things to do than o.o.b.”
    “
If
they’re registered,” Sascha pointed out.
    “I see, so we run a check on new ones.”
    “That’s right. With the hospitals.”
    Madlyn