"Elizabeth Moon - Serrano 3 - Winning Colors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moon Elizabeth)chores to do) she tried to divert him to another topic.
"What are they going to do with the Royal Aerospace Service, now that the king has abdicated?" she asked. "Hmm? Oh . . . I don't know. I'm notтАФI was told I was not required to report, which really meant they didn't want me. That's one reason I thought I'd do better with Aunt Cecelia, staying out of trouble." That didn't sound good. The rich young men who made up the officer corps of the Royal Aerospace Service might cause trouble in a lump while on duty, but would surely cause trouble if suddenly turned out, idle and feckless, into the streets of the capital. Someone wasn't thinking clearly, not for the first time. "That's good for you," she said crisply. "You are free to do something else, something that will convince Raffaele's parents that you are a mature, responsible, independent young man. Ideal husband material." "But what?" he asked. What indeed? Then it came to her. "Go talk to Lord Thornbuckle," she said. "I'm sure he can find a mission for you. Don't tell him about RaffaтАФjust ask what you can do to help." When he'd left, she put her head in her hands for a moment. She wanted to get away before someone else had a crisis for her to deal with. If only Cecelia would quit fuming about her family, they could leave for somewhereтАФanywhereтАФand be out of reach of everyone's family problems. Chapter Three "What is it, another little problem?" Cecelia was scowling into a viewscreen. "Bad hocks," she muttered, before Heris said anything. "Where?" "This excuse for a hunter stallionтАФlook at it!" Heris came around the end of the desk and looked at the shiny black horse on the viewscreen. It trotted back and forth, looking sound enough to her. Cecelia froze the picture, and pointed. "HereтАФthis is the problem. Those hocks should be much biggerтАФ" "It's the feet that always look too small to me," Heris said. No use trying to get Cecelia's mind shifted to the crew until she'd worked her way through the horse business. "Why are the hocks too small?" dozen or so horses, as well as an animated skeletal model. And when Heris dismissed it, at the end, with "I seeтАФjust like ankles, as you saidтАФankles sprain more often than knees or hips," Cecelia threw up her hands. "You are ridiculous! It's the same joint, but it's not the same stresses. I give up. What was it you came about?" Heris had hoped to soothe Cecelia, but since that hadn't worked, she tried for a bland, quick summary of her reasons for wanting a quick departure. "Arash Livadhi, who saved our skins as you recall, has asked me a favor; he wants me to transport one of his crew, who needs to be . . . er . . . out of touch for a while." "Why?" "He didn't say, exactly. It has something to do with the mess we were all in, and something the person overheard. He's a communications tech." Cecelia scowled at her. "Is this a way of sneaking in another ex-military crewmember?" "No." Heris didn't explain further; it wouldn't help. "I don't like it," Cecelia said. "Arash's medical teams saved Sirkin's life," Heris pointed out. "And yours. We owe him, both of us. He got us back here, past potential enemies, in time for the Grand Council." Cecelia's expression didn't soften. Inspiration hit. "You don't have to consider this person a crewmember, if you wish. Since it's technically my ship, consider him my guest." "YouтАФ!" Cecelia's face went white, then red in patches, then she burst into laughter. "You stinker! I almost wish I'd known you when you were all military. You must have beenтАФ" "Difficult," Heris said demurely. "Difficult is what they called it." "Brilliant on occasion, I've no doubt. If you were my age, I'd thrash you, but consideringтАФI'll just put some interesting problems in your next riding lesson." It was Heris's turn to stare. "You can't mean thatтАФyou think I'm going on with riding?" |
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