"Mike Moscoe - Society of Humanity 03 - They Also Serve" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moscoe Mike)

"No, sir, we're headed out."



Ray spent a long hour twiddling his thumbs while good people did what they could to
save his neck. He hated being a passenger, but Rita had burned him enough times for
getting his fingers onto her board while she was carrying his brigade.
Matt's first call was to engineering. "Ivan, your engines having a bad day?" Matt's
understatement brought a hint of smile to faces damn close to panic.

"Looks that way, skipper. Engines maxed when ordered to stabilize for the jump. We
got another problem. Matt. Before the computer shut down, it opened the spacecocks on
all the fuel tanks. We slowed down because we ran out of fuel."

Two ways to die! Matt took in a deep breathтАФand went on. "Sandy, where are we?"
"Thirty thousand light-years from home, halfway across the galaxy."

"At least it's somewhere we've been before," Matt quipped.
"Not really, sir. We're halfway around the other side of the galaxy this time." Ray
suppressed a shiver; he was a long way from Rita and the baby in a ship sabotaged to
keep him there.

Matt rubbed his chin. "Any records on how we got here?" That was why Ray had hired
this crew. In three hundred years of bad jumps, they were the first to come back. They
had figured out the combination of power and ship's spin that made the jumps yield all
kinds of results, not just the single target that mankind had settled for before. But to
repeat a jump, you had to put the ship through it exactly the way you did before.

"We went through deaf, dumb, and blind, sir," Sandy answered. When Sandy started
"siring" Matt, they were in deep trouble. They were a long way from home, had no record
of how they'd gotten here, fuel tanks empty, and headed away from the nearest fuel
source too damn fast. Whoever planned this really wanted them dead. Damn that
somebody to hell, Ray snarled to himself, but kept his face poker straight. He'd
commanded in tough situations before; he would not juggle Mart's elbow.
"Ivan, how bad is our plasma situation?"

"In six hours, Matt, I'm gonna start tapping the sewage plant for reaction mass." Not
good. Life support could last a long time, but not if their water went into the reactors.
Matt rubbed his short-cropped scalp briskly with both hands. He stopped suddenly.
"Damage Control, we use reaction mass in battle to patch slashes in our ice armor."

"Yes, sir."
"Anybody ever melted armor to fill reaction tanks?"

"Now would be a great time to start," was his answer.

"Helm, plot a course for a gas bag. Mary, get the marines ready to peel armor."
"You bet, sir," came quickly.

Ray'd had enough of passenger status. "Got a spare suit for an old soldier?" he asked,