"Alan Dean Foster - Damned 1 - Call to Arms" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

One-who-Decides nudged a control and the sickle rose on its flexible arm, shifting to battle control on
the far side of the room. Events bode ill. Whence this unexpected assault, these unanticipated
reinforcements of a lost cause? Ships of unknown type, new weapons: everything pointed to a
space-traversing race other than Ssparian. But the Peoples had been pushing back the Sspari for more
than a hundred years. From the moment conflict had been joined to the present day they had no known
allies.

Flashing, brightly lit battle predictors gave One-who-Decides more information than had its
subordinates. There lay the Sspari, trying to cover the space between their homeworld and the fleet.
There the fleet itself was arrayed, ships phasing in and out of Underspace according to traditional tactics.
And scattered among them were bright pinpoints of red, vessels of unknown origin trying to time their
emergence into real space properly to engage the ships of the Purpose. Injuries were being suffered.
Damage was heavy. One-who-Decides sorrowed for the losses on both sides. It was not afraid for itself.
No Amplitur who had served the Purpose for a lifetime feared mere physical dissolution, except insofar
as that might inhibit or slow the advance of the Purpose.

There were decisions to be made, and One-who-Decides proposed them. Its good sense and
confidence lent strength to worried officers and technicians. Simultaneously it stayed in contact with its
fellow Amplitur throughout the fleet. One-who-Listens and Tall-straight-Walker had assumed personal
command of the defense.

It was soul-rending to see a glowing dotтАФbright green in the case of the PeoplesтАЩ forces, yellow for the
Sspari, intense red for the unknownsтАФvanish from a screen, indication that it had been impacted by a
plasma ball or thermonuclear device or some other terrible weapon which caused the loss of hundreds,
perhaps thousands of lives. Lights dancing on a screen were feeble indicators of the issues at stake.

So simple and silent, the vanishing of a light. With it perished offspring, families, clanmates, friends;
hopes and dreams and fears. Not to mention the setback to the Purpose.

It was foolish and wasteful. The Amplitur passionately hated both. There was little time for sleep all the
rest of that day and the greater part of the following. As the Amplitur required less than many,
One-who-Decides was still alert when the critical moment came.

According to the predictors, circumstances had degenerated to the point where a small group of hostiles
might successfully interdict any landing without sufficient support from the fleet. This allowed the Sspari to
divert vessels from planetary defense to attack.

Even as this was realized, one of the strange alien vessels materialized into normal space concurrent with
the flagship. There was a brief exchange of firepower before the flagship could retire once more to
Underspace. Damage had been sustained though hull integration had been maintained. But the Korath
had planned well. Inspired by temporary success, the Sspari had diverted too much of their effort to
attack. Materializing from Underspace on the far side of the planet, ships of the Peoples managed to put
substantial landing forces down on the surface before the defenders could react. Upon learning this, the
remaining Sspari vessels broke away in a desperate attempt to deal with the landing. Their new allies,
realizing that the battle they had come to aid was lost, retreated permanently to Underspace. Essentially
the contest for Sspari was over. Ground combat, the real fighting, might take another hundred years, but
Sspari resistance had been broken. Final victory was something the Crigolit, Ashregan, and other
combative races would achieve. The Amplitur could go home.