"Gene Wolfe - The Horars of War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolfe Gene)

When he himself thought He, He meant God; but 2900 meant Lieutenant Kyle. That was why 2900
was a platoon leader, no doubt; that and the irrational prestige of a round number. He climbed out of the
trench and followed him to the CP. They needed a communicating trench, but that was something there
hadn't been time for yet.
Brenner had someone (2788? looked like him, but he couldn't be certain) down on his table.
Shrapnel, probably from a grenade. Brenner did not look up as they came in, but 2910 could see his face
was still white with fear although the attack had been over for a full quarter of an hour. He and 2900
ignored the SBS man and saluted Lieutenant Kyle.
The company commander smiled. "Stand at ease, HORARS. Have any trouble in your sector?"
2900 said, "No, sir. The light machine gun got one group of three and 2910 here knocked off a group
of two. Not much of an. attack on our front, sir."
Lieutenant Kyle nodded. "I thought your platoon had the easiest time of it, 2900, and that's why I've
picked you to run a patrol for me this morning."
'That's fine with us, sir."
"You'll have Pinocchio, and I thought you'd want to go yourself and take 2910's gang."
He glanced at 2910. "Your squad still at full strength?"
2910 said, "Yes, sir," making an effort to keep his face impassive. He wanted to say: I shouldn't have
to go on patrol. I'm human as you are, Kyle, and patrolling is for things grown in tubes, things fleshed out
around metal skeletons, things with no family and no childhood behind them.
Things like my friends.
He added, "We've been the luckiest squad in the company, sir."
"Fine. Let's hope your luck holds, 2910." Kyle's attention switched back to 2900. "I've gotten under
the leaf canopy with the ornithocopter and done everything except make it walk around like a chicken. I
can't find a thing and it's drawn no fire, so you ought to be okay. You'll make a complete circuit of the
camp without getting out of range of mortar support. Understand?"
2900 and 2910 saluted, about-faced, and marched out 2910 could feel the pulse in his neck; he
flexed and unflexed his hands unobtrusively as he walked. 2900 asked, "Think we'll catch any of them?"
It was an unbending for him--the easy camaraderie of anticipated action.
"I'd say so. I don't think the CO's had long enough with the bird to make certain of anything except
that their main force has pulled out of range. I hope so."
And that's the truth, he thought. Because a good hot fire fight would probably do it--round the whole
thing out so I can get out of here.
Every two weeks a helicopter brought supplies and, when they were needed, replacements. Each trip
it also carried a correspondent whose supposed duty was to interview the commanders of the camps the
copter visited. The reporter's name was Keith Thomas, and for the past two months he had been the only
human being with whom 2910 could take off his mask.
Thomas carried scribbled pages from the notebook under 2910's air mattress when he left, and each
time he came managed to find some corner in which they could speak in private for a few seconds. 2910
read his mail then and gave it back. It embarrassed him to realize that the older reporter viewed him with
something not far removed from hero worship.
I can get out of here, he repeated to himself. Write it up and tell Keith we're ready to use the letter.
2900 ordered crisply, "Fall in your squad. I'll get Pinocchio and meet you at the south gate."
"Right." He was suddenly seized with a desire to tell someone, even 2900, about the letter. Keith
Thomas had it, and it was really only an undated note, but it was signed by a famous general at Corps
Headquarters. Without explanation it directed that number 2910 be detached from his present
assignment and placed under the temporary orders of Mr. K. Thomas, Accredited Correspondent. And
Keith would use it any time he asked him to. In fact, he had wanted to on his last trip.
He could not remember giving the order, but the squad was falling in, lining up in the rain for his
inspection almost as smartly as they had on the drill field back at the crъche. He gave "At Ease" and
looked them over while he outlined the objectives of the patrol. As always, their weapons were