"SD Gottesman - Firepower" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gotlieb Phyllis)

FIRE - POWER
Novelette
by S. D. Gottesman
(Author of "Dead Center," "Dimensin of Darkness," etc.)



What can be done when all the battle-strength of a democracy is concentrated in
the hands of a cosmic navy with dictatorial ambitions? That was the problem
Bartok of the Intelligence Wing faced and had to answer.
CHAPTER I
TINY, TRIM, Babe MacNeice descended the very secret staircase that led into the
very private office of Intelligence Wing Commander Bartok.
"Hello!" he gasped as the wall panel slid aside. "You're on Magdeburg's 83--or
aren't you?"
"There was very little doing there," she smiled, seating herself. "Except a
bustle and roiling about as I left. It seems that someone had kidnapped their HQ
secretary and sweated him for some information relative to their new
interceptors."
"Have they any idea," asked Bartok anxiously, "who that someone was?"
Babe laughed. "They have the finger on him. From some confidential instructions
he dropped while making a getaway they learned that he was secret agent for some
Venusian colony or other. He was described as a thin old man of effeminate
carriage and manner."
Bartok smiled, relieved. "Your number twelve. Report, please." He started a
phonegraph turning and pointed the mike at Babe.
The girl said chattily: "MacNeice went per orders to Magdeburg's 83 for
confirmation or denial of rumors concerning a planned uprising against
Terrestrial authority. There she found widespread reports of similar character;
the entire planet was flooded with propaganda.
"Information was conclusively--ah--secured--from an offlcial to the effect that
the colonial governor, Allison by name, was fomenting an insurrection by means
of which he would be able to assume supreme authority over the planet and defend
it against terrestrial forces. That is all." She lit a cigarette and stared
dully at the floor as the wing commander sealed and labeled the report record.
"That," said Bartok, "sews up Allison in a very uncomfortable sack. We'll send a
cruiser tonight."
"Sure," said the girl. "He hasn't got a chance. None of them have against the
insidious Commander Bartok and his creatures of evil. That's me."
"And don't tell me you don't love it," he grinned. "I know better. In the blood,
that's where it is--the congenital urge to pry into other peopie's affairs and
never be suspected. It gives us a kick like two ounces of novadyne."
"Speaking of which," said Babe, "are you dining alone tonight ?"
"Nope. I have a standing date with my favorite little voyeur whenever she comes
back to Earth. Scamper along to get dressed; I'll meet you in two hours at the
living statues."
THE SHOW-PLACE of New Mettropole, capital of the All Earth Union and Colonies,
was the Square of Living Statues. Bathed in everchanging lights, the groups of
three men and three women, moulded from the purest gold and silver and assembled
with every artifice of the year A. D. 3880, changed steps and partners, moving