"Gregory Kern - Cap Kennedy 01 - Galaxy of the Lost" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kern Gregory)

"Maybe, but I want to hear you say it."

"Four ships have vanished under mysterious circumstances. We need to
know how and why they disappeared." Chan hesitated, then added, "We
want you to find out. That is, my superiors want you to find out.
Personally I am convinced that I could handle the matter without your
help. This reliance on people like yourself tends to weaken the efficiency of
the department and, let us be logical, what can one man do that a team
cannot?"

"That depends on the man," said Kennedy dryly. "And it also depends
on the team."

"Are you saying that I am inefficient?"

"Yes," said Kennedy flatly. "You've shown it from the first moment we
met. What's wrong, Chan? Is this world making you soft?"

Anger was a useful tool and Kennedy used it as a surgeon would use a
scalpel. His own was always under control, but Chan did not hold himself
in such iron restraint. Kennedy watched as the man's face mottled; the
slim, well-tended hands clenched on the edge of the table. Irritation, rage,
and maybe frustration were building up to what could be an interesting
explosion. A man in the grip of violent rage would be careless, say more
than he intended, betray himself if there was anything to betray.
"I resent your implication! I demand an apology!"

"You're a servant," snapped Kennedy, adding fuel to the fire.
"Remember that. You were told to do something, so do it. And don't forget
what you are. Despite all your tides and convictions of superiority you're,
at this moment, nothing more than a highly-paid office boy. A messenger.
And remember something else. Four ships have vanished and more could
follow. Those ships hold people who value their lives. Think of them and
not of your own imagined superiority. Stop thinking of me as a rival. If
there's a job to do, let's get on with it. So get to the point and stop wasting
time."

For a moment he thought the man would strike him and he watched
the eyes, the hands. If Chan was trained he would make a feint to cover the
real attack. The left hand lifting, perhaps, clenching as the right stabbed
forward with stiffened fingers toward the eyes. If he tried it, he would
wind up with a broken arm.

Then, incredibly, Chan smiled.

"You're a hard man, Kennedy. Damned hard. I'd heard about you and
I'd wondered. Call it a test if you like, butтАФ" He broke off, shrugging. "I
suppose tests can be made both ways."

Clever, thought Kennedy. The man had regained control of himself, for