"Huff, Tanya - What Ho, Magic!" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)

"Most Exalted." The aide stepped into the room and fell to his knees. "We've calculated the probable course of that freighter if it hopes to reach the Imperial Seat with your nephew."
The Atabeg's eyes lit up. "How accurate is the projection?"
The aide consulted the hardcopy in his hand. "Slightly better than 96%, Most Exalted."
"Good." The Atabeg rubbed his hands together and cracked his knuckles. "Have my cruiser prepared and ready six dreadnoughts for full battle alert."
"Six dreadnoughts? But, Most Exalted, for one small freighter?"
The look on the Atabeg's face caused the aide to reconsider his protest, swallow nervously, and begin backing from the room.
"At once, Most Exalted. Six dreadnoughts at full battle alert."
"Vizier, sir, we've found the yacht."
Sakar, not trusting any hand but his own to eliminate this threat to the throne Ц and his personal power Ц leaned toward the screen. He stared at the yacht drifting aimlessly in space. "It looks dead," he said at last.
"Sensors indicate that all systems but drive and communications are operative, sir. We're sending a man over to check it out."
On the screen, a tiny figure jetted over to the yacht and in through the open hatch. Moments later, he emerged, a body tucked under his arm.
Sakar hurried to the air lock. Even at that distance, the body had not looked like that of the Shahinshah's nephew. He arrived just as the soldier cycled through and dumped the body on the deck.
The assassin. With a hole in his chest that the vizier could stick both hands into.
"I found him tangled in the control-chair webbing, sir," the soldier explained, removing his helmet.
Sakar swore.
"Vizier, sir!" The pilot's shout blasted out of the intercom. "The tracers picked up another trail! A very recent one!"
"Follow it," Sakar ordered. "It must belong to the ship that rescued the traitorous whelp. When we catch it, destroy it."
"I'm sorry, Kelly," Erik spread his hands helplessly, "but no one ever taught me the safe access codes. I guess they thought I'd never need them. Couldn't we just blast our way in?"
"And get blasted ourselves by your father's defense squadrons?"
"Probably wouldn't," Erik offered philosophically, studying his reflection in the polished metal of the webbing buckle. "They don't shoot very straight."
"We're a pretty big target," Val interjected sharply.
"I thought you were keeping Darvish busy?"
"I quit. I'm telling you, Boss, the man's a menace. If he pushes one more button back there, I'm going to give him a couple of thousand volts to remember me by."
"You make a mess, you clean it up." Kelly turned back to Erik, who'd begun to giggle. "Would the commander of your father's fleet recognize your voice?"
"If I got a chance to say something before they got in a lucky hit."
"Who got a lucky hit?" Darvish wanted to know, swaggering in. He noticed both couches were occupied. "Out of the chair, junior."
"Go space yourself, neutron brain," Erik advised, staying put. "I was here first."
"Move it!"
"Make me!"
"Share it,'" Kelly snapped. "We're coming up on the Shahinshah's home sector and I want both of you in here where I can keep an eye on you."
"We have them on sensors now, Most Exalted. They've just returned to real space and will be in range in twelve minutes."
"Wonderful!" The Atabeg leapt to his feet, almost knocking over the aide in his rush to the control room. "Get those dreadnoughts to battle stations. We've got them this time!"
"Vizier, sir, the ship has just come onto our sensors. Computer identifies it as a K-class freighter registered to one Kelly Chase, an independent from Company space."
"Excellent, excellent. And the reinforcements I sent for?" "They're approaching the ship from the other side, sir. Six dreadnoughts, heavy class."
"Boss, rear sensors indicate a ship approaching."
Kelly scowled as the board lit up. "Type?"
"Cruiser, L-class. And there's another coming in from the front." Val sounded worried.
"Two L-class cruisers are no trouble," Kelly snorted, glancing over at her passengers who'd somehow both managed to get strapped into the copilot's couch.
"Maybe not, but twelve dreadnoughts are."
"What!"
"We seem to be surrounded."
"Seem to be, nothing! We are surrounded." A sweep of her hand threw all ship to ship frequencies open. "Erik, tell them who you are."
Freckles standing out like tiny copper beacons, Erik took a deep breath and told them.
"I don't know what good he thinks that will do him," grunted the Atabeg. "Line up the target."
"It's a trick," snorted Sakar. "The Shahinshah's son is nowhere near this sector. Line up the target."
"Kelly! Half those ships carry the Atabeg's crest!" Erik cried.
"What is this?" Kelly demanded. "Are we the new imperial sport or something?"
Darvish leaned toward the console. "Father," he called. "Father, it's me."
"I don't know what good he thinks that will do him," Sakar grunted. "Prepare to fire."
"It's a trick," snorted the Atabeg. "My son is nowhere near this sector. Prepare to fire."