"Allen, Roger MacBride - Chronicles of Solace 3 - Shores of Tomorrow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Allen Roger Macbride)
After all, she told herself with a smile, her security team might have turned invisible, but they werenТt deaf. No point in letting that damned voice drivethem mad.
Chapter Eight
LIGHT FROM A SUNSPOT
Twenty minutes, ten seconds until Ignition Sequence Start,Drayax told herself, as if she didnТt know. But only two minutes left to call a wave-off, if need be. And that damned red light was still on. She debated calling Power Shunt again, but then she changed her mind. All they could do would be to call Power Reception down on Greenhouse and relay her queries. There was no time for such niceties. She had to cut out the middlemen. She set her comm to call Power Reception directly.
УReception, this is Control. Drayax speaking. We needЧI needЧyour best guesses, your best call. Are we going to get that sensor swapped out in time?Ф
УWeТreЧweТre, ah doing, doing our best, Madam DrayaxЧControl.Ф
Plainly they were rattled as hell down there. They needed a little backbone enhancement. УNever mind all that, Reception. Just answer the question. Can we get that sensor repaired or replaced in time? Yes or no?Ф
She heard a drawing-in of breath on the other end of the line, and she imagined the young technician whose name she did not know, whose face she had never seen, standing a little straighter, throwing his shoulders back just a little. УNo, Control. I do not believe we can.Ф
She had thought as muchЧbut she needed them to admit it as well before they could go to the next step. УVery well,Ф she said, speaking slowly and calmly, struggling to ignore the way the countdown clock was shedding seconds at an alarming rate. УI need your best, your very best estimate, based on all your experience with your systems. Do you have a sensor failure, or a good sensor reporting a true misalignment?Ф
Silence on the line, and seconds melting away. Then, at last: УControl, I would put it at 85 percent likely we have a blown sensor sending bad data.Ф
УVery well.Ф One last question to ask, and she had to phrase it in neutral terms. УAgain, based on your experience with the systems involved, and the last reliable data you received, please report on your opinion: What do you believe is the alignment status of the reception grid?Ф
More silence, more seconds draining off to nothing, and at last a strained, quiet voice, struggling to keep itself calm. УControl,if the sensor is in fact bad, based on last good data received, I would say there is a 95 percent probability that we still have a good alignment.Ф
She checked the clock. One minute, fifteen seconds remaining during which she could call a wave-off.
УThank you, Groundside Power Reception,Ф she said. УStand by for initial power shunt sequence.Ф She switched over to the general comm channel. УThis is Ignition Control.ФNot the УvoiceФ of Ignition Control, she thought to herself. No flacks, no public affairs officers for this.IТm the only one who can say this. УWe are go for Ignition. All systems showing green, or have red status overridden by me. No wave-off. Repeat. We are go. There will be no wave-off.Ф
She stepped back from her display panel and folded her arms in front of her chest. She herself wondered if it was a gesture of finality, of determinationЧor whether she was subconsciously putting her arms up to protect herself, to shield herself, and hold on tight through whatever was to happen next.
She flipped to the public affairs channel and listened in as that damned УvoiceФ calmly talked them all through it as the last of the seconds smoked away.
УThat was Project Director Berana Drayax providing the final approval for the Ignition Sequence to start. That sequence will begin in twenty-five seconds, as the old SunSpot powers down to 5 percent of capacity, then refocuses and retargets its light cone for the Power Shunt operation.Ф
He makes it sound so simple,Drayax marveled. She knew how much work had gone into planning that one sequence, into rebuilding the SunSpot controllers to make it possible, into surveying the ground target precisely, into constructing Groundside Power Reception, into rehearsing and simulating everything, over and over again.
УOn my mark, Ignition Final Sequence begins with SunSpot power-down in fifteen seconds. Mark. Minus fourteen and counting. Thirteen. Twelve. ElevenЧФ
The soothing voice faded into the background as Drayax stared at the main display screen. The graphics and simulated images were gone, replaced by a split view, with the daylight surface of Greenhouse as seen from space on the left and a shot of the SunSpot on the right. Even an elderly SunSpot put out a hellacious amount of light energy, of course, and the image adjusters had accounted for that, so that what was really a blinding flare of light appeared in the screen as a comfortably warm yellow bloom of luminance.
УFive. Four. Three. Two. One.Mark, Sequence start.Ф
That comfortable warm bloom of light suddenly began to dim, guttering down to a faint red glow. Drayax knew better than to trust to the corrected images, however. It was impossible to control all the biases. The auto-adjustment system would inevitably try to make the light look the way the adjusterТs algorithm thought it ought to look rather than as it was. Far better to go by the meters and sensors, the numbers. She flipped that view onto a side display, and nodded to herself as she watched the numbers change, saw the graph line move down the intended path.
The world that had been lit, at least in part, by a still-bright torch was now illuminated by a dying ember. She looked toward the image of Greenhouse and watched the surface of the planet, or at least its equatorial regions, fade, not quite to black, but down to a dark grey-black red. The landscape was cast in dim yet lurid tones darker than blood.
Darkness. The final blackout. ThatТs where weТre all headed, if weТre not carefulЧand lucky,Drayax thought.
| © 2025 Библиотека RealLib.org (support [a t] reallib.org) |