"Dickson, Gordon R - Childe Cycle 4 - 1971 - The Tactics of Mistake" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

"Colonel," she said to him in her turnЧand her young voice sounded annoyed and
concerned at once, after the flat, clipped tones of her father, "don't you think
you ought to lie down for a while?"
"No," said the lieutenant-colonel, looking at her. She caught her breath,
finding herself seized, suddenly like a bird on the hand of a giant, by the
strange and powerful attention of his gray eyesЧentirely at odds with the
harmless appearance he had given on entering the room. Those eyes held her
momentarily helpless, so that without warning she was conscious of being at the
exact focus of his vision, naked under the spotlight of his judgment. " Е I
don't," she heard him say.
She sat back, shrugging her tanned shoulders above her green dinner gown, and
managed to pull her gaze from its direct link with his. Out of the corner of her
eye she saw him look about the table, from the blue-robed Exotic at its far end,
back past her father and herself to the dark, faintly smiling deCastries.
"I know you, of course, Mr. Secretary," he went on to deCastries. "In fact, I
picked this particular flight to Kultis just so I could meet you. I'm Cletus
GrahameЧhead of the Tactics Department at the Western Alliance Military Academy
until last month. Then I put in for transfer to KultisЧto Bakhalla, on Kultis."
He looked over at the Exotic. "The purser tells me you're Mondar, Outbound from
Kultis to the Enclave in St. Louis," he said. "Bakhalla's your home town, then."
"The capital of Bakhalla Colony," said the Exotic, "not just a town, nowdays,
Colonel. You know, I'm sure we're all pleased to meet you, Cletus. But do you
think it's good judgment for an officer in the armed forces of the Alliance to
try to mix with Coalition people?"
"Why notЧon shipboard?" said Cletus Grahame, smiling unconcernedly at him.
"You're mixing with the secretary, and it's the Coalition who's supplying
Neuland with arms and material. Besides, as I say, it's the first night out."
Mondar shook his head. "Bakhalla and the Coalition aren't at war," he said. "The
fact the Coalition's given some aid to Neuland Colony is beside the point."
"The Alliance and the Coalition aren't at war," said Cletus, "and the fact that
they're backing different sides in the brush war between you and Neuland's
beside the point."
"It's hardly beside the pointЧ" began Mondar. But then he was interrupted.
There was a sudden hush in the buzz of conversation about the lounge. While they
had been talking, the steward and Pater Ten had returned, behind an impressively
large, uniformed man wearing the stripes of a spaceliner's first officer, who
now reached the table and dropped a big hand heavily on Cletus' shoulder.
"Colonel," said the shipman, loudly, "this is a Swiss ship of neutral registry.
We carry Alliance and Coalition people, both, but we don't like political
incidents on shipboard. This table belongs to the Coalition Secretary of
Outworlds Affairs, Dow deCastries. Your place is back there across the room Е "
But from the first word, Cletus paid him no attention. Instead, he looked back
to the girlЧat her aloneЧand smiled and raised his eyebrows as if leaving it up
to her. He made no move to rise from the table.
The girl glared back at him but still he did not move. For a long second her
glare held; then it wavered and broke. She turned to deCastries.
"Dow Е " she said, interrupting the ship's officer, who had begun to repeat his
words.
DeCastries' thin smile widened slightly. He, too, raised his eyebrows, but with
a different expression than Cletus. He let her gaze appealingly at him for a