"Anderson, Poul - 1966 Flandry 07 - Ensign Flandry" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Poul)

"Thinks and feels what? I don't know. I do know he isn't even a fish. He's homeothermic; his females give live birth and nurse their young. Under high atmospheric pressure, there's enough oxygen dissolved in water to support an active metabolism and a good brain. That must be why intelligence evolved in the seas: biological competition like you hardly ever find in the seas of Terra-type planets. But the environment is almost as strange to us as Jupiter."
"The Merseians get along with his kind."
"Uh-huh. They took time to learn everything we haven't. We've tried to xenologize ourselves, in regions the conflict hasn't reached so far, but the Merseians have always found out and arranged trouble."
"Found out how?" Hauksberg pounced. "By spies?"
"No, surveillance. 'Bout all that either side has available. If we could somehow get access to their undersea informationЧ" Abrams snapped his mouth shut and pulled out a cigar.
Hauksberg eased. He smiled. "Please don't take me wrong, Commander. Assure you I'm not some weepin' idealist. You can't make an omelet, et cet'ra. I merely object to breakin' every egg in sight. Rather messy, that." He paused. "Won't bother you more today. But I want a full report on this project to date, and regular bulletins. I don't forbid hypnoprobin' categorically, but I will not allow any form of torture. And I'll be back." He couldn't quite suppress a moue of distaste. "No, no, thanks awf'lly but you needn't escort me out. Good day, gentlemen."
The door closed on his elegance. Abrams went into a conference with Leong. They talked low. The hum, click, buzz of machines filled the room, which was cold. Flandry stood staring at the captive he had taken. "A millo for 'em," Abrams said.
Flandry started. The older man had joined him on cat feet. "Sir?"
"Your thoughts. What're you turning over in your mind, besides the fair d'Io?"
Flandry blushed. "I was wondering, sir. HauЧmilord was right. You are pushing ahead terribly fast, aren't you?"
"Got to."
"No," said Flandry earnestly. "Pardon, sir, but we could use divers and subs and probes to scout the Zletovar. Charlie here has more value in the long run, for study. I've read what I could find about the Seatrolls. They are an unknown quantity. You need a lot more information before you can be sure that any given kind of questioning will show results."
Beneath lowered bushy brows, behind a tobacco cloud, Abrams regarded him. "Telling me my business?" His tone was mild.
"No, sir. Certainly not. IЧI've gotten plenty of respect for you." The idea flamed. "Sir! You do have more information than you admit! A pipeline toЧ"
"Shut up." The voice stayed quiet, but Flandry gulped and snapped to an automatic brace. "Keep shut up. Understand?"
"Y-yes, sir."
Abrams glanced at his team. None of them had noticed.
"Son," he murmured, "you surprise me. You really do. You're wasted among those flyboys. Ever considered transferring to the spyboys?"
Flandry bit his lip.
"All right," Abrams said. "Tell uncle. Why don't you like the idea?"
"ItЧI meanЧNo, sir, I'm not suited."
"You look bundled to the ears to me. Give me a break. Talk honest. I don't mind being called a son of a bitch. I've got my birth certificate."
"WellЧ" Flandry rallied his courage. "This is a dirty business, sir."
"Hm. You mean for instance right here? Charlie?"
"Yes, sir. IаЕаwell, I sort of got sent to the Academy. Everybody took for granted I'd go. So did I. I was pretty young."
Abrams' mouth twitched upward.
"I'veаЕаstarted to wonder, though," Flandry stumbled. "Things I heard at the partyаЕаuh, Donna d'Io saidЧYou know, sir, I wasn't scared in that sea action, and afterward it seemed like a grand, glorious victory. But now IЧI've begun remembering the dead. One Tigery took a whole day to die. And Charlie, he doesn't so much as know what's going to happen to him!"
Abrams smoked a while. "All beings are brothers, eh?" he said.
"No, sir, not exactly, butЧ"
"Not exactly? You know better'n that. They aren't! Not even all men are. Never have been. Sure, war is degrading. But there are worse degradations. Sure, peace is wonderful. But you can't always have peace, except in death, and you most definitely can't have a peace that isn't founded on hard common interest, that doesn't pay off for everybody concerned. Sure, the Empire is sick. But she's ours. She's all we've got. Son, the height of irresponsibility is to spread your love and loyalty so thin that you haven't got enough left for the few beings and the few institutions which rate it from you."
Flandry stood motionless.
"I know," Abrams said. "They rammed you through your education. You were supposed to learn what civilization is about, but there wasn't really time, they get so damned few cadets with promise these days. So here you are, nineteen years old, loaded to the hatches with technical information and condemned to make for yourself every philosophical mistake recorded in history. I'd like you to read some books I pack around in micro. Ancient stuff mostly, a smidgin of Aristotle, Machiavelli, Jefferson, Clausewitz, Jouvenel, Michaelis. But that'll take a while. You just go back to quarters today. Sit. Think over what I said."

"Has the Fodaich not seen the report I filed?" asked Dwyr the Hook.
"Yes, of course," Runei answered. "But I want to inquire about certain details. Having gotten into the Terran base, even though your objective was too well guarded to burgle, why did you not wait for an opportunity?"
"The likelihood did not appear great, Fodaich. And dawn was coming. Someone might have addressed me, and my reply might have provoked suspicion. My orders were to avoid unnecessary risks. The decision to leave at once is justified in retrospect, since I did not find my vehicle in the canyon when I returned. A Terran patrol must have come upon it. Thus I had to travel overland to our hidden depot, and hence my delay in returning here."
"What about that other patrol you encountered on the way? How much did they see?"
"Very little, I believe, Fodaich. We were in thick forest, and they shot blindly when I failed to answer their challenge. They did, as you know, inflict considerable damage on me, and it is fortunate that I was then so close to my goal that I could crawl the rest of the way after escaping them."
"Khr-r-r," Runei sighed. "Well, the attempt was worth making. But this seems to make you supernumerary on Starkad, doesn't it?"
"I trust I may continue to serve in honor." Dwyr gathered nerve. "Fodaich, I did observe one thing from afar while in Highport, which may or may not be significant. Abrams himself walked downstreet in close conversation with a civilian who had several attendantsЧI suspect the delegate from Terra."
"Who is most wonderfully officious," Runei mused, "and who is proceeding on from here. Did you catch anything of what was said?"
"The noise level was high, Fodaich. With the help of aural amplification and focusing, I could identify a few words like 'Merseia.' My impression is that Abrams may be going with him. In such case, Abrams had better be kept under special watch."
"Yes." Runei stroked his chin. "A possibility. I shall consider it. Hold yourself in readiness for a quick departure."
Dwyr saluted and left. Runei sat alone. The whirr of ventilators filled his lair. Presently he nodded to himself, got out his chessboard, and pondered his next move. A smile touched his lips.
6
Starkad rotated thrice more. Then the onslaught came.
Flandry was in Ujanka. The principal seaport of Kurijsoviki stood on Golden Bay, ringed by hills and slashed by lithe broad brown Pechaniki River. In the West Housing the Sisterhood kept headquarters. Northward and upward, the High Housing was occupied by the homes of the wealthy, Each nestled into hectares of trained jungle where flowers and wings and venomous reptiles vied in coloring. But despite her positionЧnot merely captain of the Archer but shareholder in a kin-corporation owning a whole fleet, and speaker for it among the SisterhoodЧDragoika lived in the ancient East Housing, on Shiv Alley itself.
"Here my mothers dwelt since the town was founded," she told her guest. "Here Chupa once feasted. Here the staircase ran with blood on the Day of the Gulch. There are too many ghosts for me to abandon." She chuckled, deep in her throat, and gestured around the stone-built room, at furs, carpets, furnishings, books, weapons, bronze vases and candelabra, goblets of glass and seashell, souvenirs and plunder from across a quarter of the planet. "Also, too much stuff to move."
Flandry glanced out the third-floor window. A cobbled way twisted between tenements that could double as fortresses. A pair of cowled males slunk by, swords drawn; a drum thuttered; the yells and stampings and metal on metal of a brawl flared brief but loud.
"What about robbers?" he asked.