"Jeffrey D. Kooistra - Dykstra's War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kooistra Jeffrey D)

"My cane, Major. I have difficulty getting around in full gee fields without assistance. My doctor
suggested a cane."

"But it'sтАФa stick. Your doctor gave you a stick?"

"I made this stick, Major. I prefer it to a sterile titanium rod." Dykstra watched Moore closely, noting his
expressions. Moore hesitated after Dykstra's comment, perhaps afraid he'd irritated the old professor.
He's uncomfortable with me, Dykstra thought. He only knows me by reputation, but now that he's seen
me, he doesn't know if I've still got it. Or maybe he's afraid I'm a crazy old coot. We shall see, Major,
whether or not I've still got it. We both shall see.

"We should get you situated in your room, Dr. Dykstra. Take him to his quarters, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir." Nachtegall carried Dykstra's suitcase and the two proceeded through the vast labyrinth of the
High Command complex until they came up to an ordinary door well down the eighth distinct corridor
(Dykstra counted) they'd traveled.

"Put your palm on the ID plate, Chris." Dykstra did so. The door opened. "It's keyed to your handprint
only," Nachtegall said. "That's not at all common for rooms here. They want you to feel special."

They went inside.

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 - Chapter 1



Room. Lots of room. Dykstra's experienced eye picked out the luxury items: the first-class workstation
with more computing power than he had at the University; the first-class autochef, capable of preparing
any kind of food that an old, delicate constitution might require; and the gravity dial.

Nachtegall went to the control and turned the internal gravity down to half standard. "Is that good
enough? If you want, I can kill all the pseudo gravity and you can have Luna standard. But they didn't
rig this room for null geeтАФit'd cause too many problems with the floors above."

"Quite all right, Bob," Dykstra said. "These are unusually nice quartersтАФhow many others are there like
it?"

"None. Well, maybe the commander's. I don't know. I've never seen his place. Like I said, they want you
to feel special."

"Why?"

"Because the Phinon Project isn't getting anywhere, Chris. Calling you in was the last good idea anyone
has had in a month."

"What is the Phinon Project? The aliens? I'm not familiar with the origin of the name."

"It's a cobbled together name. The `phi' part is just the Greek letter. The `non' part is short for `nonsense.'
The first nonsense project was called Alpha Nonsense, and so on."