"Ian Douglas - Inheritance Trilogy 1 - Star Strike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglas Ian)

0455/24:20 local time, 1513 hrs GMT

тАЬGods and goddesses, Jesus, Buddha, and fucking Lao Tse! Those fat-assed bastards up in Ring City
are trying to fucking destroy my Corps!тАжтАЭ

Gunnery Sergeant Michel Warhurst stopped his pacing in front of the ragged line of recruit trainees and
shook his head sadly. тАЬYou maggots are trying to fucking destroy my Corps! My beloved Corps! And I
am here this morning to let you know that I will not stand for that!тАЭ

Recruit Private Aiden Garroway stood at a civilianтАЩs approximation of attention, staring past the
glowering drill instructorтАЩs shoulder and off into the velvet, star-riddled blackness of the Martian night.
After a brief flight down from the Arean Ring, he and his fellow recruits had been unceremoniously
hustled off the shuttle, herded into line by screaming assistant DIs, and were now being formally inducted
into Recruit Company 4102 by the man who would rule their lives for the next sixteen weeks.

He was actually enjoying the show, as the drill instructor paraded back and forth in front of the line of
recruits. Three assistant DIs stood a few meters away, two glowering, one grinning with what could only
be described as evil anticipation.

HeтАЩd been expecting this speech, of course, or something very close to it. For the past two years, ever
since heтАЩd decided to escape a dead-end jack-in and shallow friends by enlisting in the United Star
Marines, heтАЩd lived and breathed the Corps. Boot camp, he knew, would be rough, and it would begin
with exactly this kind of heavy-handed polemics, a strategy honed over the centuries to break down the
attitudes and preconceptions of a hundred-odd kids with civilian outlooks and build them back up into
Marines. It was part of a tradition extending back over a thousand yearsтАжand it self-evidently worked.

And getting through boot camp, heтАЩd decided, wouldnтАЩt be all that tough, not for him. After all, he knew
what it was all about. He knewтАж
тАЬWhat the fuck are you daydreaming about, maggot!?тАЭ

The DIтАЩs face had appeared centimeters in front of his own as if out of nowhere, contorted by rage, eyes
staring, mouth wide open, blasting into GarrowayтАЩs face with hurricane force. The sheer suddenness and
volume forced him to take a step backтАж.

тАЬAnd where the fuck do you think youтАЩre going, you slimy excuse for an Ishtaran mudworm? Get back
here and toe that line! I am not done with you, maggot, not by ten thousand fucking light-years, and when
I am done you will know it! Drop to the sand! Give me fifty, right here!тАЭ

Startled, Garroway swallowed, looked at Warhurst, and stammered out a тАЬS-sorry, sir!тАЭ

The senior drill instructorтАЩs face blended fury with thunderstruck. тАЬWhat did you say?тАЭ

тАЬIтАЩm sorry, sir!тАЭ

тАЬWhat did you just call me? Gods and goddesses of the Eternal Void, I canтАЩt believe what I just heard!тАЭ
Warhurst brought one blunt finger up a hairтАЩs breadth away from GarrowayтАЩs nose. тАЬFirst of all, maggot,
I did not give you permission to squeak! None of you will squeak unless I or one of the assistant drill
instructors here gives your sorry ass permission to squeak! Is that understood?тАЭ

Garroway wasnтАЩt sure whether a response was called for, but suspected this was one of those cases