"Jack McKinney - Kaduna Memories" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

Kakis folded hairy arms. "Why include robots? What are you expecting to find out there?"

Nugget toyed with his beard. "Frankly, I'm not sure. The cause for MOLLY'S unrest, perhaps."

Kakis grimaced. "This is a survey op, Doctor. There isn't a cybernetician among us. MOLLY'SтАФthe
machine's problems can wait."

Nugget tapped a finger against the VDT. "There might be something more precious than metals out there,
Commander." He met Kakis's hooded gaze. "No offense, Arnie, but you didn't win this command on the
strength of your intellect. Bulkroad awarded you Excalibur because you're a risk-taker. So why not do
what you do best?"

Even in null-gee Kakis's face turned as red as the OLD logo on his brimmed cap.

"Come on, Arnie," Nugget said. "What's a dozen robots?"

"You'll get six, no more," Kakis said, relenting. "And not one new model, is that understood?"

Nugget grinned. "Anything you say, Commander."

Kakis executed a neat tuck-and-turn and propelled himself from the cabin in the direction of the ship's
spin-grav command center.
"Nice going," Mika said, slipping out of the seat harness.

Nugget raised a hand. "Before we start shutting MOLLY down, I want a scrambled burst sent to
Bulkroad through Offworld Mission Control, apprising him of the situation."

Mika began to initiate the sequence. "Do you figure EB's onstation or downside?"

"He's probably onstation," Nugget said, spread-eagle in the corridor hatchway. "Contact me as soon as
you hear. I'll be below with Larissa."

Thaish and his node peers were ordered back to their Station Six instrumentality mats. Inheritor Major
Nasst had assigned additional monitors to the area, and three were presently group-suctioned to the
ceiling over Thaish's mat, doing distracting things with their spindly fingers. Thaish wasn't about to let
them get the better of him and so had his gaze focused on the output viewsphere, where he could
measure his operational progress against that of his peers.

Ship Nasst was still energy-depleted, but in full starlight now, hugging the scabrous surface of a tumbling
moonlet of metal-laden rock.

"The stranger has fissioned an offspring," one of the monitors suddenly announced, setting the words to a
baleful !Reitth tune Thaish knew he was expected to recognize. The three were trying to be humorous, he
decided; trying to introduce stray thought and discover someone inappropriately postured. Thaish was
determined not to glance up, but couldn't help himself.

The monitors made excited sounds and gestured to him with outstretched hands. But there was more to
the trick than dark humor. In a viewsphere of their own fashioning, the three had brought the fissioned,
offspring craft to light.