"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автора

Maxim fastened his buttons.
"Guy, I don't understand you. On duty you behave one way at home
another. Why?"
"Let's not go into that again. I'm sick of telling you the same thing
over and over. And that grin of yours - when are you going to stop smiling
in formation?"
"There's nothing in the regulations that says you can't smile," replied
Mac slowly. "As far as repeating the same thing over and over to me, Guy,
there's something I want to tell you. Now, don't be offended at what I'm
going to say. I know you're not a - speecher - a reciter..."
"A what?"
"You're not a person who can speak beautifully."
"Orator?"
"Orator. Yes, that's the word. You're not an orator. But that doesn't
matter. Today you made a speech to us. You spoke the right words, good
words. But at home when you spoke about the Legion and the job it had to do
and about conditions in your country, it was very interesting. It came from
you, it was really you speaking. But here you repeat the same thing over and
over and it's not really you speaking. Everything you say here is true, but
it's always the same. And very boring. You're not offended, are you?"
No, of course Guy wasn't offended, but a fine icy needle had just
pricked his ego: until now he had thought he had always presented things to
his men as smoothly and convincingly as Corporal Serembesh. And the captain,
too, had been repeating the very same speech for three years. There was
nothing surprising or disgraceful about it. After all, nothing had really
changed in the country's domestic or foreign policy in the past three years.
"And where does it say, Mac, that a subordinate should reprove his
superior?"
"The regulations say just the opposite," admitted Maxim. "I think
that's wrong. Look, you take my advice when you're trying to solve
ballistics problems, and you accept my suggestions when you make a mistake
in your calculations."
"But that's at home! Anything goes at home."
"Well, suppose you give us the wrong sighting during gunnery practice?
Suppose you miscalculate the wind factor? What then?"
"Under no circumstances do you question a superior's orders."
"Even in such a case?"
"You fire as ordered," said Guy sternly. "Mac, you've said enough in
the past ten minutes to put you in the stockade for two months. Do you
understand?"
"No, I don't. But, suppose, in combat...?"
"Suppose what in combat?"
"You give a wrong sighting? What then?"
Guy had never commanded a platoon in combat. He suddenly recalled how
Corporal Bakhtu had read the map incorrectly during a reconnaissance in
force. The entire platoon was driven within firing range of an adjoining
company. He himself had remained behind and sent half the platoon to their
death. They knew damn well that he was wrong but no one dreamed of
correcting him.
"Good Lord," thought Guy suddenly, "it never would have occurred to us