Mainline Read Online Free Page B

was an obliging habit of his, since his untimely demise depended on his following a tight schedule.
    Three hours and twenty minutes before the Advisor's departure, Reva began assembling the IDP materials in a workplace provided by Karuu. It was painstaking work with delicate materials; an unsteady hand could lose her a finger or a limb. But her hands were steady, and the time patch assembly went like a manufacturer's demo. When done, she had two hours and twenty minutes to plant the device in a critical place on the Advisor's hydroskiff. When Albek Murs was twenty minutes short of his destination, over the deep ocean drop, his ship would suffer a fatal hull breach.
    Two hours, twenty minutes. Reva was dressed in an aqua-colored cold-water bodysuit, a breather mask at her waist. The outfit was common in Amasl, and no one paid attention as another R'debh native took the magtube to the waterfront, the thronging interface between sea-people and landers. Concealed inside her suit was the time patch, a slender packet of death lying between her breasts. A slight unsealing of her bodysuit and the patch could be pulled out when needed; in the meantime, there were no odd lines to arouse suspicion.
    Reva left the tube, checked her breather, and allowed herself to submerge in the nearby watercourse. She had forgotten this feeling and reveled in old sensations renewed: the contrast of cool water against her exposed skin and warmth inside her bodysuit; city sounds carrying through liquid to thrum, magnified, in her ear; plankton and microorganisms dancing like silt in the rich water. Then, focusing on her job, she kicked out with long legs and swam for the marina.
    It was supposedly a secure area, with controlled-access gateways abovewater and a caged-off boundary below. A simple bypass wire fooled the perimeter alarm into ignoring the gap Reva made with fusion cutters. She was undetected. There were few passersby in this part of the harbor, and though she was in plain sight, the depths at twenty meters were ill-lit by sunlight. And of course, she monitored the Lines, ready, if need be, to move to a Mainline where she would pass unnoticed.
    She had identified Murs' slip and learned the maintenance routine long before she picked the time to do this job. She looked up to get her bearings. Docking slips hung overhead, dark, irregular grid slashes rippling against the watery sky. She headed for the slip she needed and rose slowly through the water until she could read the underhull registration marks. Yellow alloy, black markings were clearly visible this close to daylight. This was the right skiff.
    One hour, fifty minutes until the Advisor's departure. The assassin rose farther, until she was an arm's length below the skiff hull. Its hydroplane struts were extended, part of the maintenance check. She moved between them toward the drive, where the re-pulsor nacelle joined the skiff's hull at an angle more vulnerable than most to water pressure. It was only a hazard if the skiff exceeded its rated depth, of course. Or suffered a hull rupture there.
    Her hand was reaching for the seal on her bodysuit when a splash in the water made her freeze. Less than five meters in front of her, a man had jumped into the sea feet first. The bubbles of his descent swirled around him, bobbing to the surface before his plunge stopped. His back was to her. Intent on placing the IDP, Reva had not sensed this approaching event. She moved behind a hydroplane strut before the stranger saw her. Floating there, she tried to slip into timetrance. It was a useful monitor when she was at rest or barely active, and had attention to spare. But it was terribly draining to see alternative Nows if she was concentrating on something else, or being physically active. If she was emotionally distraught or exerting herself, it was almost impossible to do.
    Reva's concentration was off: her adrenaline rush of surprise following the man's entry into the water made it difficult to see