"Baldwin, Bill - The Helmsman 02 - Galactic Convoy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Baldwin Bill)

imaginary machine pictured by your precious plans has never so much as lifted
from the image of a globular display, much less east off for deep space. There
are bound to be errors. That is what you engineers are for-to catch mistakes
before they hurt someone...." His laugh returned again, this time with a little
of his normal humor. "It wouldn't be so good if one of your creations lost its
Verticals and fell out of the sky, now would it? Someone could be hurt!"
The man only stared into the huge Bear's eyes, mesmerized.
"Well, civilian engineer?"
"N-no...."
"No, what?"
"N-no... ah, I, ah, w-wouldn't want a starship t-to f-all out of the
sky..."
"And what will you do to ensure this does not happen?"
"F-fix it-t-the waveguide so the Verticals are b-better insulated from
energy strikes...."
"Excellent," the Bear exclaimed, gently placing the engineer on his feet.
"Your cooperation is most gratifying, civilian. I shall mention it favorably to
my superiors. But," he added, "your equipment here is poor. Behold, Wilf, this
very drafting display is not functional."
Brim could only nod as he fought the gale of laughter that threatened to
overwhelm his control. "I'd noticed that," he choked.
"You should endeavor to find a workable instrument" Ursis advised the man
seriously. "Immediately. Otherwise, by the time you order this waveguide to be
reversed, it will be a difficult operation-every metacycle that passes sees new
equipment installed in Defiant's already crowded machinery spaces. Eh?"
"Of c-course, Lieutenant," the engineer whispered as if he were badly out
of breath. Suddenly, he turned and ran madly along the consoles until he
disappeared through a door at the end of the room.
Ursis pursed his lips and frowned. "I only hope he really will do something
about that waveguide," he said, "instead of just covering the mistake with a
minor insulating job. Once the hull is buttoned up, there will be no way I can
check." Then he smiled wryly and shook his head. "Groaning trees and growling
wolves are all the same in a spring snowstorm, eh?"
"Huh?" Brim responded, looking up from the wreckage of the drafting table.
"An old saying from the Mother Planets," the Bear answered with a grimace,
"and-it seems that I shall never learn to hold my temper," he observed. "Now we
are probably both in trouble."
Brim shrugged. "A little, maybe. But it's at least possible now that
something may be done to protect the Verticals. If we'd kept our mouths shut,
nobody would even had looked. Besides," he chuckled as they boarded an elevator
for the observation balcony, "I've dealt with bullies all my life. Once you
scrape away their rank, as you did so well, they're all the same sort of
cowards." He winked. "Now, if you want to talk about real trouble, imagine us
fighting a dead ship after something like a lightning strike tripped the
Verticals at low altitude-maybe during a landing. Universe...."
Nergol Thannic's all-consuming galactic conflict seemed terribly remote
that day among the ancient starship yards of Eleandor-Bestienne. Outside a lofty
Engineering Tower in the Orange-Eight district, cobalt skies and soft puffs of
summer clouds ruled the late afternoon over Construction Complex 81-B. On an
open balcony, a warm breeze rustled the blue Fleet Cape at Brim's neck and