"Michael McCollum - Gibraltar earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCollum Michael)

In the two generations since humanity had won free to the stars, the race had found but twelve worlds
sufficiently like the Mother of Men to be considered even marginally habitable. This was the thirteenth,
and so far, the best. Preliminary results gave it double the highest habitability index previously recorded.
A solid month of orbital scanning, laboratory tests, and on-the-ground exploration had revealed a
paradise. For that reason, Landon scowled as he watched the scenery float by far below. A life spent in
the service of the Stellar Survey had left him with a philosophy that mirrored the organizationтАЩs unofficial
motto: тАЬIf things are going well, you have obviously overlooked something!тАЭ

As he gazed at New Eden, the crewтАЩs unofficial name for their find, he wondered what they were
overlooking. Even after a month of study by a thousand talented specialists, they had only scratched the
surface of what there was to know. A world was just too large and too varied a place to be surveyed by
a single shipload of scientists. To understand New Eden completely would be the work of generations.
Where lurked the microorganism that would ultimately prove fatal to humans, the environmental factor
that would render colonists sterile, or the million-and-one other deadly possibilities that would turn this
beautiful new world into a pestilential hellhole?

Landon knew that his current black mood was a defense mechanism against the high hopes that New
Eden had spawned in him. It was easy to remain detached when the system to be surveyed consisted
totally of sterile rocks and gas giants, as most of them were. There was no love in his breast for the usual
dust balls, volcano fields, and oceans of hydrochloric acid. However, to find this beautiful world and then
lose it because of some innocuous-seeming environmental factor would be too great a disappointment.
Better to keep expectations low until they knew more about it. Sighing, he moved to retrieve a bulb of
steaming hot tea from its microgravity holder.

There was a quiet rattle as the cabin around him shivered. Landon froze for a long second as his brain
analyzed what he had sensed largely on a subconscious level. A chill had gone up his spine as it
sometimes did when he was thrilled or frightened. Yet, it had not been just him. There had been a
subdued clatter from the storage lockers that lined every unused centimeter in his cabin. The holoscreen
had flickered with static, hadnтАЩt it?

The introspection took less time than it takes to gulp. A moment later, his hand reached out of its own
volition and slapped down on the intercom plate inset into the desk.

тАЬReport!тАЭ he snapped as the duty officer, a pimple-faced ensign, stared back at him.

тАЬDonтАЩt know, Captain,тАЭ the boy squeaked. тАЬWe are getting reports from all over the ship. Wait a
second. Scout Three is reporting that they felt it, too!тАЭ

Scout Three was Jani RykandтАЩs ship, en route back from exploring the larger of the two moons of the
planet. The fact that she was ten thousand kilometers fromMagellan eliminated the thought that whatever
had happened was a problem only with his ship.

тАЬSound general quarters, Mr. Grandstaff.тАЭ

тАЬAye aye, Captain.тАЭ

Landon was already out of his seat, pulling himself hand over hand toward the control room as the alarms
began to bleat. A thousand past drills provided him with a mental picture of the organized bedlam that
was taking place all over the ship. Before the alarms lapsed into silence, he was strapped into his control
console at the heart of the big survey craft, surrounded by dozens of screens, none of which told him