"Dafydd ab Hugh, Brad Linaweawer DOOM: Endgame (english)" - читать интересную книгу автораmeasurement."
Six days for the enemy to mobilize wasn't good, but I could live with it. It was sure a hell of a lot better than two centuries. I devised a plan, as the senior man present, though Arlene had a few good ideas for booby traps. If the Fred had six days to prepare for our arrival, we had eight weeks! We made good use of the time, practicing a slow, steady retreat down the ship, sealing off segments behind us and activating homemade bombs to wreck the thing. We couldn't win, of course, not in the long run, but then, as someone once said, the trouble with the long run is that in the long run everybody's dead! Well, the bastards would pay for every meter. That was my only goal, and at the staff meeting, Arlene and even Sears and Roebuck regularly agreed with me. I kept us hyped by unexpected alarm drills; Sears and Roebuck figured out how to rig the ship's computer to ring various emergency sirens and kill power in different parts of the ship. I did the timing myself, keeping the others on their toesies. Then Arlene got tired of dancing like a puppet on a chain, and she conspired with Sears and Roebuck to simulate a General Catastrophe 101: all the power on way for'ard in the engine room, the computer (on a separate circuit) announces the self-destruct sequence started with nineteen minutes until vaporization, sound effects of a raging hurricane, and the enviros blow enough air across me to simulate a massive hull breech somewhere down south. Scared the bejesus out of me! By the time the ship was down to thirty seconds to detonation, and I still couldn't find the blessed breech, I was reduced to running in circles like a chicken with its head cut off, screaming and shout- ing like a raging drunk! When I recovered my normal heart rate and respi- ration, I clapped Arlene in irons for the rest of the trip. No, not really, but I threatened to do so, and had she stopped laughing long enough to hear me, I think she would have been terrified. Sears and Roebuck had a weird sense of humor: they went in for the bizarre practical joke, like some- how attaching sound effects to our weapons. I visited our makeshift "rifle range"Чan unused manifest hold with five hundred meters of jagged, saw-tooth corridor and brightly colored markings at the far endЧbut every damned round I fired went to its doom with a long piercing scream of "heeee- |
|
|