"David Weber - Worlds of Honor 4 - Service of the Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weber David)

"You wished to see me, Mr. Winton?"
Michael nodded stiffly.
"Yes, Ma'am. It's about a rumor."
"A rumor?"
Suddenly Michael felt the speeches he had been rehearsing since Todd's revelation the day
before dry up and flake away. After a panicked moment, he forced himself to begin afresh and
was pleased to find words came smoothly.
"Yes, Ma'am. A rumor about Fourth Form postings."
Commander Shrake smiled. "Yes, those rumors would be starting about now. They always
do, no matter how carefully we keep the information to ourselves."
She didn't ask how Michael had heard and for that Michael was grateful. Getting Todd into
trouble was not on his agenda, but neither was lying to the Fourth Form dean.
"And whose posting is it you wish to speak about?" Commander Shrake continued.
"My own, Ma'am."
"Yes?"
"Commander Shrake, I have heard that I am to be posted to the SD Saint Elmo."
The dean didn't even make a show of consulting her computer. Michael respected her for it.
Doubtless the matter had been discussed, maybe even debated. Someone at Mount Royal Palace
might even have leaked back news of Michael's call to Beth last night.
"That matches my own information," Commander Shrake replied. "Is that what you wished to
know?"
"Yes, Ma'am, and no, Ma'am. I did wish to have the rumor confirmed, Ma'am, but I," Michael
took a deep breath and let the rest of his words hurry out on its eddy, "also wished to request
another posting, Ma'am. One that isn't so close to home."
"You have a desire to see more of the universe, Mr. Winton?" asked the dean with a
dangerous twinkle in her eyes.
"Yes, Ma'am," Michael replied, "but that isn't my reason for requesting a change of posting."
"And that reason is?"
"I want . . ."
Michael hesitated. He'd been over this so many times he'd lost count, and he still couldn't find
a way to state his case without sounding pompous.
"Ma'am, I want to be a naval officer, and I can't do that if people start protecting me."
Twin silver arches of raised eyebrows made Michael flush.
"It is not the Navy's habit to protect her officers, Mr. Winton," Commander Shrake said
coolly, and the scarred hand she rested on the desk in front of her was mute testimony to her
words. "Rather it is those officers' job to protect the rest of the kingdom."
"Yes, Ma'am," Michael said, pressing on through he felt he'd doomed his case. "That's why
keeping me back here isn't right. The Queen's brother . . ."
The damned words fell from his lips like bricks.
"The Queen's brother might have right to protection, but when I entered the academy I gave
that up. It shouldn't start again now that I'm about to leave."
Commander Shrake steepled her fingers thoughtfully.
"And that's what you think this posting is, Mr. Winton?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"And if I told you that Admiral Hemphill herself had heard of your qualifications and
requested you?"
"I would be pleased, Ma'am, but that wouldn't stop others from thinking that I was being
protected."
"And it matters to you what others think?"
"I'd like to say that it didn't, Ma'am," Michael said earnestly, "but I'd be lying. I could live