"David Drake - Belisarius 2 - In The Heart Of Darkness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

precision. He recognized one of the machines as a lathe, like the lathes used
by expert carpenters to shape wooden legs for chairs and tables. But this
lathe was much bigger and vastly more powerful. The lathes he knew were
operated by foot pedal. No such lathes could rip through metal the way this
one was, not even bronze. He watched a stream of steel chips flying from the
cutting tool like a waterfall.
The other machines he did not recognize at all.
Horizontal boring mill. Vertical turret lathe. Radial drill press.
"Impossible," stated the general firmly. "To make such machines would require
making machines to make machines to make machines which could make those
machines. We do not have time."
The facets shivered momentarily, confused. The crystalline intelligence which
called itself Aide viewed reality in an utterly different manner than humans.
The logic behind Belisarius' conclusion was foreign to it. Where the man saw
complex sequences, causes and effects, Aide saw the glorious kaleidoscope of
eternity.
Malwa will have tanks.
The thought carried an undertone of grievance. Belisarius smiled, faintly. He
was reminded of a small child complaining that the neighbor boy has a nice new
toy, so why can't he?
"The Malwa tanks are completely different. They are not made like this, with
this -- " He groped for words to describe a reality he had never seen in real
life.
Aide filled the void. Precision machining. Mass production.
"Yes. The Malwa do not use those methods. They use the same basic methods as
we Romans do. Artisanship. Craftsmanship."
Incomprehension.
Belisarius sighed. For all Aide's brilliance, the strange mentality was often
befuddled by the simplest human realities.
"Each Malwa tank -- the tanks they will make in the future -- will be unique.
Handcrafted. The product of slow, painstaking work. The Malwa can afford such
methods, with their gigantic resources. Greek artisans are superior, but not
by that much. We will never be able to match the Malwa if we copy them. We
must find our own way."
The general made a short, chopping gesture with his hand.
"Forget the tanks. Show me more of the battle. It could not all have been --
will be -- a contest of tanks."
Montage of images. Infantrymen in a trench, firing hand cannons and hurling
grenades. A line of cannons hidden in a copse of trees, belching fire. A
strange glass-and-metal wagon hurtling to a stop. There was no horse to pull
it; no horse to stop it. Atop the wagon was a rack of tubes. Suddenly, the
rack plumed flame and a volley of rockets streaked forward. Another --
"Stop! There -- focus there! The rocket wagon!"
The wagon, again. Belisarius could now see that men were sitting in the glass-
enclosed front. Other men were placing rockets into the tubes. The tubes
rested on a flat bed toward the rear of the wagon and were slanted up at the
sky. Again, the tubes plumed fire. Again, rockets soared.
"What are those?"
They will be called katyushas. These are eight-rail 132 millimeter rocket
tubes mounted on what will be called 4X6 trucks.