"Bud Sparhawk - Alba Krystal" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sparhawk Bud)

Alice called us when we were at the P18 layer. "Freighter ship Peddlar recognition signal received," she
advised. "Requests to deliver medical supplies to station. All signals correspond as to registry," she
finished.

The identification-friend was one of Alice's more endearing features. Should any ship dare approach
without responding properly it would be torn to bits by our formidable defenses. Some day we'll figure
out how the lizards get around it.

"Must be the cargo Jack ordered," Doc suggested. "I wonder why he didn't bring it with him?'

"Maybe it's a diverted cargo," James remarked, his voice sounding squeaky from the helium in our
atmosphere. "Sometimes it's easier to divert than to haul it to the point of sale."

"All right, Alice," Doc instructed. "But tell Alba to stay out of sight when they board." I kicked myself for
not thinking of that precaution.

The station popped into sight above the horizon, shining like a white jewel against the black background
of the sky. Beside it floated the ungainly hulk of the freighter. We could see their light ship parked next to
the service hatch. The distance was too great to make out the figures of the unloading crew. There was a
shimmering of radiance as the small boat moved back to the belly of the mothership.

"Delivery complete," Doc remarked. "Sure wish they could have stayed for a while." He reached for the
mike to gab with the crew a little.

"Sure," hissed Jerome's voice. "And then have them blab about Alba to everyone within ten light years."
It was Doc's turn to kick himself as he pulled his hand back.

We watched the freighter wheel and turn toward the mass of the planet in preparation for the brief surge
that would put it in an elliptical path around our giant. It was common for ships of her size to use the
massive planet to build up speed prior to going trans-light. After all, when a difference of ten kilometers
per second velocity on entry makes a five day difference in arrival time you use whatever you can.

I could hear the pinging code cross-talking on the voice channel as Doc punched up the station. "Okay
Alice, tell Alba she can come out now. The freighter's gone." There was a rush of static over the channel
and then silence.

"Alice, this is Doc. Please acknowledge," he repeated angrily. "Station A-116, register and respond!"
The radio crackled to itself. Something was wrong.

I looked up from the instrument panel at the station and wondered what could have gone wrong with
Alice's radio when something caught my eye -- a silvery plume of pure flame was spewing from the air
lock.

I hit the alarm button with one hand to put out an emergency squeal on all channels and pulled James to
the port with the other. He saw the fire immediately and started yammering at the others while I turned
the ship about and gave it a ten second burn to kill our relative motion and pointed to the locks.

To give the guys credit they were quick on the uptake. Like five little pistons they squeezed into the
'scaphs and squirted toward the station. I waited a full thirty seconds to make sure they were clear and
then gave the engines a five second burst to put us into a higher orbit. We were going after the freighter.