beats by drdre

"C-can I pet your puppy?" .Delete this paragraph to shift page flush CHAPTER 25 The voyage of the Out of Band II had begun in catastrophe, where life and death were a difference of hours or minutes. In the first weeks there had been terror and loneliness and the resurrection of Pham. The OOB had fallen quickly toward the galactic plane, away from Relay. Day by day the whorl of stars tilted up to meet them, till it was the single band of light, the Milky Way as seen from the perspective of Nyjora and Old Earth -- and from most all the habitable planets of the Galaxy. Twenty thousand light-years in three weeks. But that had been on a path through the Middle Beyond. Now in the galactic plane, they were still six thousand light-years from their goal at the Bottom of the Beyond. The Zone interfaces roughly followed surfaces of constant mean density; on a galactic scale, the Bottom was a vaguely lens-shaped surface, surrounding much of the galactic disk. The OOB was moving in the plane of the disk now,ghd sit ups, more or less toward the galactic center. Every week took them deeper toward the Slowness. Worse, their path, and all variants that made any progress, extended right through a region of massive Zone shifting. The Net News had called it the Great Zone Storm, though of course there was not the slightest physical feeling of turbulence within the volume. But some days their progress was less that eighty percent what they'd expected. Early on they'd known that it was not only the storm that was slowing them. Blueshell had gone outside, looking over the damage that still remained from their escape. "So it's the ship itself?" Ravna had glared out from the bridge, watching the now imperceptible crawl of near stars across the heavens. The confirmation was no revelation. But what to do? Blueshell trundled back and forth across the ceiling. Every time he reached the far wall, he'd query ship's management about the pressure seal on the nose lock. Ravna glared at him, "Hey,beats by drdre,mbt casual, that was the n'th time you've checked status in the last three minutes. If you really think something is wrong, then fix it." The Skroderider's wheeled progress came to an abrupt halt. Fronds waved uncertainly. "But I was just outside. I want to be sure I shut the port correctly.... Oh,plate bending rolls, you mean I've already checked it?" Ravna looked up at him, and tried to get the sting out of her voice. Blueshell wasn't the proper target for her frustration. "Yup. At least five times." "I'm sorry." He paused, going into the stillness of complete concentration. "I've committed the memory." Sometimes the habit was cute, and sometimes just irritating: When the Riders tried to think on more than one thing at a time,Dre Beats Butterfly by Vivienne Tam with ControlTa, their Skrodes were sometimes unable to maintain short-term memory. Blueshell especially got trapped into cycles of behavior, repeating an action and immediately forgetting the accomplishment. Pham grinned, looking a lot cooler than Ravna felt. "What I don't see is why you Riders put up with it." "What?" "Well, according to the ship's library, you've had these Skrode gadgets since before there was a Net. So how come you haven't improved the design, gotten rid of the silly wheels, upgraded the memory tracking? I bet that even a Slow Zone combat programmer like me could come up with a better design than the one you're riding." "It's really a matter of tradition,GHD IV MK4 Pink Hair Straightener Flat," Blueshell said primly, "We're grateful to Whatever gave us wheels and memory in the first place." "Hmm." Ravna almost smiled. By now she knew Pham well enough to guess what he was thinking -- namely that plenty of Riders might have gone on to better things in the Transcend.