By Orson Scott Card
Sizzling Sleep: The Worthing Chronicle by means of Orson Scott Card.
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Additional info for Hot Sleep: The Worthing Chronicle
Excuse me," he said to the nurse, who immediately turned away. Nurses had to be very deferential to the sleepers—but obsequiousness was a small price to pay for the privilege of somec, even at the nurses' rather trivial rate of two years up for one year under. Hop Noyock reached behind himself and found the source of his discomfort. It was a small piece of paper, soaked in the sweat of his revival. On it was written, in Hop's own handwriting, a short message: "Someone trying to kill Jazz. " What in hell did that mean?
Nice to be back," Jazz said, smiling slightly, his bright blue eyes flashing in the dazzling lights. He was several centuries old, and looked younger than twenty. One last pat on the back, and then Hop reached down and flipped off the loop recorder. Jazz relaxed as soon as the taping was finished. He tensed again, though, when Hop whispered in his ear, "Somebody may be trying to kill you. " "No one'd dare try anything in the crowds. " Hop led Jazz to the railing and showed him off to the cheering fans.
Jazz set his lips tightly. " Hop suggested, lightly. "We're all friends. " Hop shrugged. "One of their managers then. " "Hell no. It sounds more like treason. Must be something involved with the government, or how could the information have reached me in the Sleeproom? Somebody thinks your death would help or hurt some faction in the government. " The ramp seemed to go on forever. The roar of the stardrive test grew softer; the roar of the crowd w. c bu to re he C lic k he k lic C w. 0 bu y rm er Y F T ra n sf o ABB PD er Y grew louder.