"William C. Dietz - Halo 1 - The Flood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dietz William)

тАЬChrist,тАЭ he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. тАЬThom, is this what . . . who Ithink it is?тАЭ

тАЬDamn right. Get down to Cryo Two on the double, Sam. WeтАЩve got an important package to thaw
outтАФand we drop back into real space soon.тАЭ

тАЬOn my way,тАЭ he said. He killed the intercom connection, his exhaustion forgotten.

Sam quickly dumped the tech file to his portable compad and deleted the original from his computer. He
strode toward the door to his cabin, then stopped. He snatched EllenтАЩs picture from the
workstationтАФalmost as an afterthoughtтАФand shoved it into his pocket.

He sprinted for the lift. If the Captain wanted the inhabitant of Cryo Two revived, it meant that Keyes
believed that the situation was about to go from bad to worse . . . or it already had.


Unlike vessels designed by humansтАФin which the command area was almost always located toward the
shipтАЩs bowтАФCovenant ships were constructed in a more logical fashion, which meant that their control
rooms were buried deep within heavily armored hulls, making them impervious to anything less than a
mortal blow.

The differences did not end there. Rather than surround themselves with all manner of control interfaces,
plus the lesser beings required to staff them, the Elites preferred to command from the center of an
ascetically barren platform held in place by a latticework of opposing gravity beams.

However, none of these things were at the forefront of Ship Master Orna тАЩFulsameeтАЩs mind as he stood
at the center of his destroyerтАЩs control room and stared at the data projections which appeared to float in
front of him. One showed the ring world, Halo. Near that, a tiny arrow tracked the interloperтАЩs course.
The second projection displayed a schematic titled HUMAN ATTACK SHIP, TYPE C - 11. A third scrolled a
constant flow of targeting data and sensor readouts.

He fought a moment of revulsion. That these filthy primates somehow merited an actual nameтАФlet alone
names for their inferior constructsтАФgalled him to his core. It was perverse. Names implied legitimacy,
and the vermin deserved only extermination.

The humans had тАЬnamesтАЭ for his own kindтАФтАЬElitesтАЭтАФas well as the lesser races of the Covenant:
тАЬJackals,тАЭ тАЬGrunts,тАЭ тАЬHunters.тАЭ The appalling temerity of the filthy creatures, that they would darename
his people with their harsh, barbaric tongue, was beyond the pale.

He paused, and regained his composure. тАЩFulsamee clicked his lower mandiblesтАФthe equivalent of a
shrugтАФand mentally recited one of the True Sayings.Such is the ProphetsтАЩ decree, he thought. One
didnтАЩt question such things, even when one was a Ship Master. The Prophets had assigned names to the
enemy craft, and he would honor their decrees. Any less was a disgraceful dereliction of duty.

Like all of his kind, the Covenant officer appeared to be larger than he actually was, due to the armor
that he wore. It gave him an angular, somewhat hunched appearance which, when combined with a
heavy, pugnacious jaw, caused him to look like what he was: a very dangerous warrior. His voice was
calm and well modulated as he assessed the situation. тАЬThey must have followed one of our ships. The
culprit will be found and put to death at once, Exalted.тАЭ

The being who floated next to тАЩFulsamee bobbed slightly as a gust of air nudged his heavily swathed