"David Weber - Fifth Imperium 02 - The Armageddon Inheritance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weber David)

The power bore floated a rock-steady half-meter off the ground, and Geb's implants tingled with the
torrent of focused energy. A hot wind billowed back from the rapidly sinking shaft, blowing a thick plume
of powdered rock to join the choking pall hanging over the site, and he stepped still further back.
Another thunderous explosion burst in on him, and he shook his head, marveling at the demonic energy
loosed upon this hapless mountain. Every safety regulation in the bookтАФImperial and Terran alikeтАФhad
been relaxed to the brink of insanity, and the furious labor went on day and night, rain and sun,
twenty-four hours a day. It might stop for a hurricane; nothing less would be permitted to interfere.

It was bad enough for his Imperials, he thought, watching the dust-caked woman concentrate, but at least
they had their biotechnics to support them. The Terra-born did not, and their primitive equipment
required far more of pure muscle to begin with. But Horus had less than five thousand Imperials; barely
three thousand of them could be released to construction projects, and the PDCs were only one of the
clamorous needs Geb and his assistants had to meet somehow. With enhanced personnel and their
machinery spread so thin, he had no choice but to call upon the primitive substitutes Earth could provide.
At least he could lift in equipment materials, and fuel on tractors as needed.

A one-man grav scooter grounded beside him. Tegran, the senior Imperial on the Escorpion
site, climbed on it to slog through the blowing dust to Geb's side and pushed up his goggles to
watch the power bore at work.

Tegran was much younger, biologically, at least, than Geb, but his face was gaunt, and he'd lost
weight since coming out of stasis. Geb wasn't surprised. Tegran had never personally offended
against the people of Earth, but like most of the Imperials freed from Anu's stasis facilities, he
was driving himself until he dropped to wash away the stigma of his past.

The cutting head died, and the power bore operator backed away from the vertical shaft. A
Terra-born, Imperial-equipped survey team scurried forward, instruments probing and
measuring, and its leader lifted a hand, thumb raised in approval. The dust-covered woman
responded with the same gesture and moved away, heading for the next site, and Geb turned to
Tegran.

"Nice," he said. "I make that a bit under twenty minutes to drill a hundred-fifty-meter shaft.
Not bad at all."

"Um," Tegran said. He walked over to the edge of the fifty-meter-wide hole which would one
day house a hyper missile launcher and stood peering down at its glassy walls. "Its better, but I
can squeeze another four or five percent efficiency out of the bores if I tweak the software a bit
more."

"Watt a minute, TegranтАФyou've already cut the margins mighty close!"

"You worry too much, Geb." Tegran grinned tightly. There's a hefty safety factor built into the
components. If I drop the designed lifetime to, say, three years instead of twenty, I can goose
the equipment without risking personnel. And since we've only got two years to get dug inтАФ"
He shrugged.

"All right," Geb said after a moments thought, "but get me the figures before you make any
more modifications.