"George R. R. Martin - Manna From Heaven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

Manna From Heaven
George R.R. Martin
Analog
Mid-December, 1985

The SтАЩuthlamese armada was sweeping the outskirts of the solar system, moving through the velvet
darkness of space with all the stately silent grace of a tiger on the prowl, on an interception course with
the Ark.
Haviland Tuf sat before his master console, scanning the banks of telescreens and computer monitors
with small, careful turns of his head. The fleet angling to meet him appeared more formidable with every
passing moment. His instruments reported some fourteen capital ships and swarms of smaller fighters.
Nine bulbous silver-white globes, bristling with unfamiliar weaponry, comprised the wings of the
formation. Four long black dreadnaughts served as outriders on the flanks of the wedge, their dark hulls
crackling with energy. The flagship in the center was a colossal saucer-shaped fort with a diameter TufтАЩs
sensors measured as six kilometers from rim to rim. It was the largest spaceship that Haviland Tuf had
seen since the day, more than ten years past, when he had first sighted the derelict Ark. Fighters
swarmed around the saucer like angry stinging insects.
TufтАЩs long, pale, hairless face was still and unreadable, but in his lap, Dax made a small sound of disquiet
as Tuf pressed his fingertips together.
A flashing light indicated an incoming communication.
Haviland Tuf blinked, reached out with calm deliberation, and took the call.
He had expected a face to materialize on the telescreen in front of him. He was disappointed. The callerтАЩs
features were hidden by a faceplate of black plasteel, inset into the helmet of a mirror-finish warsuit. A
stylized representation of the globe of SтАЩuthlam ornamented the flanged crest upon his forehead. Behind
the faceplate, wide-spectra sensors glowed red like two burning eyes. It reminded Haviland Tuf of an
unpleasant man he had once known.
тАЬIt was unnecessary to dress formally on my account,тАЭ Tuf said flatly. тАЬMoreover, while the size of the
honor guard you have sent to meet me tickles my vanity somewhat, a much smaller and less
prepossessing squadron would have been more than sufficient. The present formation is so large and
formidable as to give one pause. A man of a less trusting nature than myself might be tempted to
misconstrue its purpose and suspect some intent to intimidate.тАЭ
тАЬThis is Wald Ober, commander of the Planetary Defense Flotilla of SтАЩuthlam, Wing Seven,тАЭ the grim
visage on the telescreen announced in a deep, distorted voice.
тАЬWing Seven,тАЭ Tuf repeated. тАЬIndeed. This suggests the possibility of at least six other similarly fearsome
squadrons. It would seem that SтАЩuthlamese planetary defenses have been augmented somewhat since my
last call.тАЭ
Wald Ober wasnтАЩt interested. тАЬSurrender at once, or be destroyed,тАЭ he said bluntly.
Tuf blinked. тАЬI fear some grievous misunderstanding.тАЭ
тАЬA state of war exists between the Cybernetic Republic of SтАЩuthlam and the so-called alliance of
Vandeen, Jazbo, HenryтАЩs World, Skrymir, Roggandor, and the Azure Triune. You have entered a
restricted zone. Surrender or be destroyed.тАЭ
тАЬYou misapprehend me, sir,тАЭ Tuf said. тАЬI am a neutral in this unfortunate confrontation, of which I was
unaware until this moment. I am part of no faction, cabal, or alliance, and represent only myself, an
ecological engineer with the most benign of motives. Please do not take alarm at the size of my ship.
Surely in the small space of five standard years the esteemed spinnerets and cybertechs of the Port of
SтАЩuthlam cannot entirely have forgotten my previous visits to your most interesting world. I am
HavilandтАФтАЭ
тАЬWe know who you are, Tuf,тАЭ said Wald Ober. тАЬWe recognized the Ark as soon as you shifted out of
drive. The alliance doesnтАЩt have any dreadnaughts thirty kilometers long, thank life. I have specific orders
from the High Council to watch for your appearance.тАЭ