"Dafydd ab Hugh, Brad Linaweawer DOOM: Knee Deep in the Dead (english)" - читать интересную книгу автораhonestly answer no.
Funny thing is, I always hoped I'd go to space one day . . . but not like this. My idea was to be on a deep-space exploratory ship, pushing out beyond the bounds of the known solar system. But when I scored only a 60 on the MilSpaceAp test, the chances of me receiving a deep-space assignment ranged somewhere between infinitesimal and "forget it." The big surprise was that one right upper cut to the concrete jaw of Lieutenant Weems opened my pathway to the stars. Not only would I do it over again, I'd still enjoy it! I stared at the two men whose job was to guard me, and had a strange feeling of unreality. "Want some coffee?" one of them asked with something that sounded like actual concern. His thin face reminded me of one of the monks. "Yeah," I said. "Black, if you don't mind." He smiled. We'd run out of cream back in Kefiristan, and when he hopped up to Phobos, the supply situation was no improvement. The guard's name was Ron. The other guard's name was Ron, tooЧI called him "Ron Two," but they didn't see the humor in it. We didn't talk much. It seemed a little insulting only having two Marines protecting such a dangerous type as what had gone wrong on Phobos. After we up-shipped to Mars Base, we sat for a solid day, trying to find out why the UAC miners on Phobos had sent a distress callЧand why they didn't answer now. In the Marines, you spend eternity so bored you'd look forward to your own court-martial as a break in the tedium. Then an unexpected danger with huge, jagged edges comes rolling over all the set routines, a reminder that the universe is a dangerous place. The last message we received from Phobos was: "Things coming through the Gate." When something that serious hits the fan, boredom is returned to its proper place as a luxury. The court-martial of a corporal was deemed less important than a potential threat to MarsЧand not important at all compared to an imme- diate threat to the profits of the Union Aerospace Corpo- ration. With a ringing cry of "sounds like they're smoking something up there," Lieutenant Weems boldly led his men into the transport. At first I thought I'd be left behind on Mars Base; but either Weems thought I might prove useful to have along, or else he just didn't want a loose end. I volunteered to go along. Sometimes I'm not very bright. |
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