"David Weber & Linda Evans - Bolos" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weber David)

traitorously. тАЬAnything, I mean, that would get us out of this?тАЭ
He sat back, looking suddenly drawn and exhausted. тАЬNo. I really
donтАЩt. Believe me, Dr. Matson, IтАЩd give just about anything to say
otherwise.тАЭ
She believed him. Most profoundly believed him. Because Tillie
Matson would have given her immortal soul to tell her colonists
somethingтАФanythingтАФbut the granite truth.
To her credit, she didnтАЩt cry until much, much later.
When she was completely and utterly alone.

The orchard thrives. This pleases me. I am programmed to experience
a sense of well-being for a job well performed. But I do not understand
why my Commander has placed me on Battle Reflex Alert inside the
colony perimeter. I perceive no trace of an Enemy against which I
should prepare myself. The orchard is pest free. Scanning from a
distance, I determine that the cornfield and vegetable plots between my
current position and maintenance depot are also pest free. I have done
my job well. My gengineered microbes, nematodes, and insect species
are performing their tasks perfectly. The crops are safe. The colony is
safe.
I work on new peach cultivars as assigned for a planned extension to
the apple orchard, running computations, selecting the optimal site for
the peach trials, preparing the soil with proper fumigants. I release
nerve agents beneath a layer of heavy plastic film and monitor the
progress of fumigation. Inimical soil parasites die. I am satisfied.
Seven point two-two hours after assuming my patrol station in the
orchard, I detect an incoming Concordiat vessel. I am no longer
programmed to respond to such vessels. The subroutines which still exist
in my Action/Command center, subroutines which at one time governed
my response to such ships, have been modified. I ignore the ship other
than to note its landing and subsequent takeoff. I calculate that its mass
has increased slightly on departure, indicating onloading of supplies or
export goods from our stores. This puzzles me, but I am not involved in
decisions to export goods from MatsonтАЩs. The colony grows quiet. The
silence is too quiet.
I scan.
My sensors detect no trace of human occupation. This disturbs me. My
Commander has not mentioned a departure of human personnel. I widen
my scan. Livestock are still in place in barns, hutches, and fields. No
human remains inside the colony perimeter. I widen scan once again. I
detect no trace of human presence for a radius of 4850 meters beyond
the colony perimeter. I consider the possibility that the colony has come
under attack.
The only logical source of such an attack would be the ship which has
departed. It carried proper Concordiat markings and broadcast on
official Concordiat frequencies. I do not like to consider that a
Concordiat ship has been subverted by the Enemy; but it is a possibility I
file to be tested against future data, particularly as its increase in mass
would closely match the combined mass of the human contingent of
MatsonтАЩs World, within an estimated 0.007 percent.