"Frankowski,.Leo.-.Tank.2.-.War.With.Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frankowski Leo)

chemical makeup of everything around you, and feel every
vibration. The tank is your body, and you know exactly what every
part of it is doing. When you give your tank an order, you don't work
any controls or exactly say anything. You just know what should be
done, she knows what you want, and she does it.

So when I try to describe something, it's not what really happened.
It's just the closest that I can come to explaining what was going
on.

The thruster let loose and slammed us forward. We never hit
anything like forty Gs, not with the water slowing us down, but it was
still a rough ride. The hair-thin fiber-optic cable parted immediately,
and the drones were left far behind. With any luck, they'd show up
later. For a while, Agnieshka and I were all alone, and I could see
nothing but the bubble around us.

I could feel her injecting liquid air from our coolant bottle into the
vents just behind the arrowhead, mixing in enough hydrogen
tapped from the thruster to warm it up to a level just below what
might damage our sensors, and igniting the mixture. The vibrations
got worse until we were entirely inside the bubble. Then it got
smoother while the acceleration got higher. Agnieshka cut the air
off, because we didn't need it any more.

We broke the surface a hundred meters from the beach, long
before any of our bubbles reached the surface behind us to give
us away. Hitting the air actually slowed us down a bit. The long pole
and arrowhead were jettisoned, no longer needed.

The Mark XIX doesn't have a good aerodynamic shape, either, but
if you put enough power behind it, you can fly a lead brick.

We were traveling at fifteen hundred kilometers per hour, but
because we were mentally at combat speed, it seemed to me that
we were only going at a leisurely twenty-seven kilometers per hour,
with plenty of time to look around and pick out our targets.

Once out of the water, I was in communication with my team again
by laser, and all of my sensors were operating once more.

A quick look around told me that my seventeen subordinates were
flying parallel to me a half meter above the waves, in a line two
kilometers wide. Our sonic shock waves were kicking up huge
rooster tails behind us.

A glance up told me that the artillery was not letting us down. Six
thousand launchers, scattered up to eight thousand kilometers
away, were each firing fifteen rounds in a time-on-target barrage,
mostly to keep our opponents from noticing us too soon.