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

was very, very quiet.
тАЬBottom line?тАЭ Tillie managed.
For the first time, his gaze dropped reluctantly away from hers. He
fiddled with a stylus. тАЬWe were scheduled for a two-week voyage to
MatsonтАЩs. The Cross sustained a lot of computer damage when the
Command Module blew. Among other things. Bottom line . . .тАЭ He
finally met her gaze again. тАЬIf we canтАЩt repair outgoing
communicationsтАФwhich doesnтАЩt look likelyтАФwe wonтАЩt be able to call
for help. WeтАЩre a long way from anywhere out here. If we can restore
some of our navigation and propulsion systems, at least enough to allow
for minor course corrections over time . . . ItтАЩs possible we could get to
MatsonтАЩs. Maybe. ThatтАЩs the course Darren Boyd laid in and so far as we
can tell, itтАЩs still running on autocommand. But we canтАЩt reprogram it for
a new courseтАФthat part of the nav systemтАЩs been blown apart. And
anyway, none of us knows enough about navigation to try
reprogramming for a closer port of call. ItтАЩs stay on autocommand with
minor course corrections over time, or nothing.тАЭ
 There didnтАЩt seem to be much point in demanding to know why the
company hadnтАЩt built in failsafes and crew redundancies for such a
contingency. They hadnтАЩt, so wishing they had was just plain useless.
And it wasnтАЩt the fault of the surviving crew, anyway.
Lewis Liffey cleared his throat. тАЬThat, uh, isnтАЩt the worst of it, Dr.
Matson.тАЭ
Tillie braced herself.
тАЬAt current velocity, with repairs to our propulsion systems so we can
handle the course corrections weтАЩll need, we could reach MatsonтАЩs. In
about twenty years.тАЭ
тАЬTwenty years? My GodтАФтАЭ
тАЬIf we canтАЩt effect any repairs,тАЭ he cut her off, тАЬweтАЩre dead.тАЭ
She understood that all too clearly. If they couldnтАЩt correct course,
theyтАЩd keep following their current vector and miss the point in space
where MatsonтАЩs would have been at the end of two weeksтАФbut not
where it would be at the end of twenty years. Maybe someday an alien
race would find their bones inside the Star CrossтАЩ empty shell. . . .
The shape of Lewis LiffeyтАЩs face wavered in her awareness. The
whole room wavered. His voice brought everything back with a
disorienting click.
тАЬDr. Matson, we need to make some very critical decisions and,
frankly, IтАЩm going to need your help.тАЭ
Tillie blinked, trying to cope with shock on shock. тАЬYes?тАЭ
тАЬYou brought three hundred fifty-seven people aboard, as well as live
cargo, planning to settle a new colony. Unless we rig some kind of
miracle repair, I would suggest you consider the Cross your new colony.
YouтАЩre agriculturalists. If weтАЩre going to survive a twenty-year voyage
on a ship provisioned for two weeks, plus emergency stores, weтАЩll need
every ounce of creativity youтАЩve got. We have to grow our own food,
recycle nutrients, purify water when parts weтАЩd normally swap out start
to break down . . .тАЭ
тАЬYes,тАЭ Tillie managed. тАЬI see what you mean. You really donтАЩt think
thereтАЩs hope, then, of repairing anything . . .тАЭ Her voice wobbled