"Eric Frank Russell - Late Night Final" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Eric Frank)

rays from the sky.
In short time, ten figures strolled through the twilight toward the distant, tree-topped
hill. Four were uniformed; six in drab, shapeless clothes. They went by conversing
with many gestures, and one of them laughed. He gnawed his bot-tom lip as his gaze
followed them until they were gone.
The price of rank.
"Step eight: Repel initial attacks in accordance with tech-niques detailed in manual of
defense." Cruin snorted, put up one hand, tidied his orders of merit.
"There have been no attacks," said Jusik.
"I am not unaware of the fact." The commander glowered at him. "I'd have preferred
an onslaught. We are ready for them. The sooner they match their strength against
ours the sooner they'll learn who's boss now!" He hooked big thumbs in his
silver-braided belt. "And besides, it would give the men something to do. I cannot
have them everlastingly repeating their drills of procedure. We've been here nine days
and nothing has happened." His attention returned to the book. "Step nine: Follow
defeat of initial attacks by taking aggressive action as detailed in manual of defense."
He gave another snort. "How can one follow something that has not occurred?"
"It is impossible," Jusik ventured.
"Nothing is impossible," Cruin contradicted, harshly. "Step ten: In the unlikely event
that intelligent life displays indifference or amity, remain in protective formation while
specimens are being tutored, meanwhile employing scout vessels to survey
surrounding area to the limit of their flight-duration, using no more than one-fifth of
the numbers available at any time."
"That allows us eight or nine scouts on survey," observed Jusik, thoughtfully. "What
is our authorized step if they fail to return?"
"Why'd you ask that?"
'Those eight scouts I sent out on your orders forty periods ago are overdue."
Viciously, Commander Cruin thrust away his book. His broad, heavy face was dark
red.
"Second Commander Jusik, it was your duty to report this fact to me the moment
those vessels became overdue."
"Which I have," said Jusik, imperturbably. 'They have a flight-duration of forty
periods, as you know. That, sir, made them due a short time ago. They are now
late."
Cruin tramped twice across the room, medals clinking, heelbells jangling. "The
answer to nonappearance is imme-diately to obliterate the areas in which they are
held. No half-measures. A salutary lesson."
"Which areas, sir?"
Stopping in mid-stride, Cruin bawled: "You ought to know that. Those scouts had
properly formulated route orders, didn't they? It's a simple matter toтАФ"
He ceased as a shrill whine passed overhead, lowered to a dull moan in the distance,
curved back on a rising note again.
"Number one." Jusik looked at the little timemeter on the wall. "Late, but here.
Maybe the others will turn up now."
"Somebody's going to get a sharp lesson if they don't!"
"I'll see what he has to report." Saluting, Jusik hurried through the doorway.
Gazing out of his port, Cruin observed the delinquent scout belly-sliding up to the
nearest formation. He chewed steadily at his bottom lip, a slow, persistent chew
which showed his thoughts to be wandering around in labyrinths of their own.
Beyond the fringe of dank, dead ash were golden butter-cups in the grasses, and a