"Jeff Verona - Field Day" - читать интересную книгу автора (Verona Jeff)

Jeb took over the conversation then, steering us through polite channels
and
asking about our inspection. I expected Tevi to light into him, but she
merely
pointed out that the EC had resources for teachers as well as students, and
that perhaps Sovereignty could use those resources. She also asked why
there
werenтАЩt any male teachers, a question which inspired much sudden business
with
napkins and wineglasses. I told Jeb weтАЩd need another day to finish looking
around, and then weтАЩd leave. His shoulders relaxed. "Good," he said. "IтАЩm
sure
you have more pressing matters to attend to."
When dinner broke up, Tevi waved aside Patrick Henry, saying that we could
find our own way back to our quarters. The fusion spindle had been damped
down
to a faint glow, the closest it could ever come to true nighttime darkness,
and we took a minute to get our bearings before heading out. "Who was that
old
man?" she asked.
I shuddered. "Their militia leader, I guess. I wouldnтАЩt want to cross him."
"Nor I." She looked up for a long moment, then frowned. "Doug, are you
seeing
those men?"
I glanced up to where she was pointing. My stomach heaved as I tried to
focus
on the far side of the habitat, because whenever I could actually discern
the
spin of Sovereignty, my sense of up and down went haywire. I glimpsed a
group
of ant-like figures in dark outfits before dropping my chin to stare at the
floor between my feet. "I see them."
Born of a habitat herself, Tevi had no problems with the perspective. "They
are doing training exercises, I think."
"Perhaps theyтАЩre part of the militia."
"The militia trains at night?"
"Maybe." I drew a breath as my stomach settled into place. "Luna doesnтАЩt
have
an army, Tevi. I donтАЩt know how they operate."
She said nothing further as we returned to our quarters, but occasionally
she
glanced up and back, following the distant figures. Then, just as I opened
the
door of our quarters, a soft voice asked "Mister Hammond?"
"Jefferson?" I said.
"Yes, sir, itтАЩs me." He was standing in a shadow formed by an angle of the
building, nearly invisible save for his pale hair. "Sir, I have to tell you
something." His voice was strident, high-pitched.
"Would you like to talk inside?" I asked.
After a moment, he nodded yes. I swung the door open and he ducked inside,