"Michael McCollum - The Void" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCollum Michael)

unfettered by the snail like crawl that is light speed.
Nor were they limited to observing natural phenomena. The engines of starships burned bright with
waste tachyons that were instantaneously flung toward the farthest reaches of the firmament. Like their
sublight cousins, the neutrinos, tachyons were virtually unaffected by passage through normal matter.
Thus, starships appeared as tiny moving stars to the great instrument at the edge of the galaxy. It was the
tachyon telescope's ability to track ships that had caused the Hegemony's high command to dispatch
Warwind to this most distant of all humanity's installations.

#

The space gig floated through the observatory habitat's main ship lock and was immediately winched to a
tie down pad within the large cylindrical hangar bay. As soon as the gig was secure, its flanks were
buffeted by a hurricane of expanding air as atmosphere was released into the bay. Tessa unstrapped and
floated toward the midships airlock.

Sergeant Major Cochrane of Warwind 's marines waited in the hangar bay with a small squad to
welcome his captain. Despite the lack of gravity and his space armor, Cochrane managed to look as
though he were standing on the parade ground back at headquarters.

"Situation report, Sergeant Major!"

"The habitat is secure, Captain," the sergeant's amplified voice said from somewhere around his belt.
"We control communications and are continuing to transmit routine messages and scientific data. We
have rounded up the observatory staff and have them in the messhall, all except the headman. He's
waiting for you in his office."

"No stragglers?"

"No, ma'am. We tapped into their roster and have them all identified by face and retina scan. There are
twenty-eight of them. Ten scientists, twelve assistants, and six housekeeping and maintenance types."

She nodded. It would be even more crowded aboard Warwind on the return voyage than on the
outbound leg, but that could not be helped. A warship was not a liner. Even with every free bit of cubic
crammed with food and other consumables when they had launched; this voyage was straining their
resources to the limit. They would naturally restock from the observatory's supplies of foodstuffs and
oxygen, but even so, by the time they returned to the galaxy, ship's crew and prisoners would be on short
rations.

"What is the name of the head astronomer?"

"Senior Academecian Trevor Vannick, Captain. I must warn you that he is not a happy individual."

"Did he resist when you captured him?"

"Other than cuss us out in about four languages? No, ma'am!"

"Conduct me to him."

"Yes, ma'am."