"Allen, Roger MacBride - Chronicles of Solace 3 - Shores of Tomorrow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Allen Roger Macbride)

УAt my mark, fifty-five minutes until Final Sequence start.Mark. This is the voice of Ignition Control.Ф

Neshobe felt her hands balling up into fists. She wasnТt going to be able to tolerate much more of the endless chatter. She felt a great desire to stomp off to her private quarters and watch the show from there. But she was going tohave to stand it, at least for a little while longer.

One of the great disadvantages of being the Planetary Executive was the need to endure the foolishness of ritual and ceremony. Her part of the job of making Ignition happen, the political job of arm-twisting, backslapping, promising, lying just a little, had been over for months, even years. There was no work for her here. Nonetheless, retiring to her quarters at this crucial juncture would look too much like abandoning her post.

She could have, perhaps should have, stayed safely home on-planet, on Solace, along with everyone watching from there. After all, part of a leaderТs job was to ensure continuity of leadership, to avoid getting killed when getting killed would produce a crisis.

But staying alive in the event of disaster didnТt matter so much in the present case. If things went terribly wrong, if, for example, the NovaSpot ignited just a trifle too soon or a bit too energeticallyЧwell, then, they would all soon be dead anyway. Leadership would be able to do no more than point the way to the graveyard.

Greenhouse was merely the rocky outer moon of a quite ordinary gas giant planet in the outer Solacian star system. But everythingЧeverythingЧdepended on Greenhouse, to the point that there had been serious discussions about the possibility of renaming the little satellite УLifeboat.Ф After all, the little worldТs little sun was dying, and now a new sun was about to be born. Those were profound changesЧcertainly profound enough, it was argued, to be marked by a change of name. And if the old name had accurately described the use to which the world had been put, then surely the new name should do the same thing.

Neshobe had vetoed the idea. The name change idea was aptЧtoo apt. Morale was bad enough without indulging in a surfeit of honesty. Besides, Neshobe herself could not help but wonder if this particular lifeboat would have spaces enough for everyone. Changing the name would only make it more likely that others would think to ask themselves the same question. In her more superstitious moments, Neshobe worried that a name change might even be bad luck, tempting fate. For all that she cited various political reasons, and the needless time, effort, and confusion that would be produced by the effort to change the name in all the books, charts, histories, and so on, that had been thereal reason she had refused to make the change.

Neshobe Kalzant had no desire to bring down further curses on Solace and Greenhouse and the rest of the worlds of the Solacian system. They had been under a curse, many dark curses, for far too long already.

УThe timing of Ignition is of course absolutely crucial,Ф the announcer volunteered to no one in particular. УIn the first hours after Ignition is initiated, a lethal blast of radiation, more powerful than any other radiation burst ever produced by humanity, will roar out from the NovaSpot. That initial radiation blast will bloom out in all directions, until NovaSpotТs power shields can be brought on-line to control and focus the power output and dampen the radiation.

УAll the inhabited places of the Solacian system must be shielded from that first blast, either by simple distance, or, better still, by being behind some massive body. At the moment chosen for Ignition, the planet Solace will be on the farside of our sun, and, for good measure, the gas giant Comfort will stand between Greenhouse and the sun. This is a relatively common alignment, but it is rare indeed that it coincides with a set of planetary alignments that also serve to shield the major outer-system habitats. It will be many years before such a moment comes again, and even then . . .Ф

That was enough for Neshobe. If she could not leave the room, she could at least escape that damned low, soothing drone of a voice. She turned and walked to the far end of the observation platform and made her way down to the main level of the command center. She wasnТt really supposed to go down there, but who was going to stop her?

She looked around the command center and spotted Director Drayax. The director was, arguably, every bit as useless as Neshobe, just at the moment. Berana Drayax had already made her strategic decisions and commands. Now she, like Neshobe, could do little more than watch and see what happened as those commands were carried out. Not too long from now, once the final sequence began, she would once again have real work to do, guiding the minute-by-minute, second-by-second details of the operation. But for the moment, she could stray at least a few meters from her console.

Neshobe caught DrayaxТs eye and walked over to the older woman. Drayax was tall and slender, with snow-white hair done up in a braid, pale skin, and a calm face that fell easily into a calm smile. The fact that she looked like a kindly grandmother had not hurt her in the least during the hard-charging times leading up to this day. The unforgiving deadlines, the technical challenges, the political battles, the fights over funding, staffing, suppliesЧall those should have drained the life from her. And yet here she was, cool and poised in a formal business suit, the picture of confidence, looking for all the world as if she were hosting a cocktail party reception for visiting business associates.

УWhat the devil do we have to hang around here for?Ф Neshobe asked Drayax, in a voice that would not carry, a very sincere-looking and quite artificial smile on her face. The press would be watching, and so she had to play the game. But at least they would not be listening. So long as her facial expression had nothing to do with her words, she could say what she liked. She refused to worry about lip-readers. УHell of a day, Berana. Please, tell me again why the hell we couldnТt have just come a day later and had it all over with by now, one way or the other?Ф

Berana Drayax was every bit as practiced as Neshobe in the obscure art of speaking words that did not match her expression. She knew as well as the PlanEx how many cameras were around. She smiled warmly and said, УWhy hurry? WeТll find out if weТre all dead soon enough, Madam Executive.Ф

УThatТs not exactly the optimism IТve heard from you before,Ф Neshobe said, genuinely taken aback behind her cheerful smile. Drayax wasnТt much given to gallows humor. УHas something happened that I need to know about?Ф

УProbably, Madam ExecutiveЧbut what? This is one of the most complex engineering tasks ever attemptedЧcomparable with setting a timeshaft wormhole. Something isbound to have gone wrongЧsomething we havenТt detected yet. If itТs critical, if itТs something we havenТt got a redundant system for, or if something else we havenТt thought of takes us by surprise from out of nowhereЧthe later in the game we are, the higher the odds on a possible system failure where we wouldnТt be able to do anything except sit back and watch the disaster.Ф

УI know. YouТve told me all this beforeЧthough not with quite so much drama. But you donТt know of anyparticular problem right now, do you?Ф

Drayax shrugged. УThereТs one sensor problem thatТs got me a bit worried. I suppose itТs just a dramatic moment, with a lot of dangers just aheadЧand maybe IТve done just a little too much pretending everything is fine and nothing can go wrong. ItТs too late for pretending, donТt you think?Ф

It was impossible for Neshobe not to note that DrayaxТs false smile remained where it was and seemed just as real as it always did, even as she spoke those words.

Neshobe suddenly understood. Drayax was scared to death, more scared than NeshobeЧand yet it was absolutely impossible for Drayax to show the slightest niggle of worry. Venting at the Planetary Executive from behind a frozen smile was her only possible release.

So who do I vent at?Neshobe asked herself, knowing full well that answer was Уno one.Ф That was one of the other problems with being Planetary Executive.

УNow coming up on fifty minutes until NovaSpot Ignition,Ф said the announcerТs voice. Down off the platform, Neshobe was far enough away from the announcerТs desk not to hear him directly, but that did not stop his voice from pursuing here, booming down from a speaker directly above her head. Was there no escape from his endless repetition of what everyone already knew? УFinal preparations are now under way for refocusing the power beam of the original SunSpot,Ф he went on, Уto be followed by the power-surge transfer to the Timeshield Generator. Those aboard theLodestar VII and other close-in command, control, and observation craft are now starting their final safety preparations before those events.Ф

A gong sounded, and another voice cut in. УAll nonessential personnel to preassigned strap-down locations. All nonessential personnel to preassigned strap-down locations.Ф

УThatТs my cue, Madam Kalzant,Ф said Drayax. УIf youТll excuse me?Ф