"David Drake - RCN 02 - Lt. Leary Commanding" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

to his first lieutenant, Lt. Mon, who would otherwise have been trying to support his family on half pay
and no other resources. Mon had been a prisoner during the capture of thePrincess Cecile ; therefore he
had no share of the prize money which the Navy Office would eventually adjudge for the ship.

Daniel had two eighths of the prize money coming to him. That would be months or years in the future,
but his bank was more than happy to advance him funds against the event. Daniel didn't have the expense
of a wife, and he did have a great personal interest in meeting young women who might be impressed by
a dashing naval officer. Leaving the full-time duties to Mon gave both officers what was best suited to
their circumstances; an idyllic situation so far as Daniel was concerned.

"A trim ship," Uncle Stacey repeated, "and very well found."

In his present state of health, Stacey hadn't been able to walk the telescoping antennas and yards, so
now he locked a pair of naval goggles down over his eyes to use their electronic enhancement to view
them. They determined the position, attitude, and expanse of sails of charged dielectric fabric which
created imbalances in Casimir radiation and drove the vessel through the Matrix.

Raising the goggles, the old man looked up at his nephew again. "Are they going to give you command
again after she's commissioned, lad?" he asked.

Daniel shrugged. Civilians assumed the answer was obvious: of course the Hero of Kostroma would be
returned to command. An RCN officer, however, knew there was much more to the question.

"I don't know," he said. "I performed well, but there're many skilled officers senior to me."

He smiled at a sudden thought. "Lieutenant Mon among them."
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It was a grim joke, of course, because Mon wouldnever have a command of his own. He didn't have
the interest of a senior officer nor the sort of family money that would allow him to cut a figure socially
and call attention to his undoubted abilities.

Worst of all, Mon had bad luck: he'd always been at the wrong place when there were prizes or honors
to be won nearby. And there he differed from Daniel Leary, who'd been sent to Kostroma with no
interest and no money, but whose good fortune had handsomely made up for those lacks.

"Short of Admiral Anston," Adele said dryly, "there's no better-known officer in the RCN today. You
won't be the wonder of Cinnabar forever, but I think you still have some of your nine days left."

Daniel grinned, but he said, "That's not an unmixed blessing, you know, Adele. There'll be some who
think I've carried myself a little higher since my return than an officer so junior ought to do. And they may
be right."

Uncle Stacey nodded, his lips pursed. "You're young, Daniel, you're young, and they'll understand that.
But still . . ."

"You carried yourself here with the same well-justified confidence that you showed on Kostroma,"