[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.But losing the rest of his friends – and Janelle – would hurt.“Or gathering a big enough hammer to smash us to pieces with a single blow.”“Maybe,” Janelle said.“Why worry about it?”Henry had to admit she had a point.“How long do we plan to stay in this system if the aliens don't boot us back out?”“The Admiral was talking about a month,” Janelle said.“I believe the researchers were even asking to be allowed to stay behind, if we had to leave in a hurry.But no one expects to have that much time, really.”Henry agreed.Even assuming there were no deployable alien forces closer to Target One than the front lines, the aliens could probably scramble forces to Target One in a handful of days.And, even when the front lines were some distance from Earth, the human race had never significantly reduced the planet’s defences.There was just too much chance of the aliens launching a brutal raid on the planet.Logically, the aliens should feel the same way and race to reinforce Target One as quickly as possible.“I’d be surprised if they left us in peace for a couple more days,” he said.“Have we found anything under the waves?”“The probes have been observing alien cities,” Janelle said.“Haven’t you seen the pictures?”Henry shook his head.“No,” he said.“Just the planet itself.”“They look like.well, farms,” Janelle said.“But they also looked remarkably strange to human eyes.In some ways, the aliens may even be hunter-gatherers on a colossal scale, rather than settling down and growing their food like we do.Makes you wonder, doesn't it, what sort of culture they took to the stars?”Henry couldn't disagree.Several different human societies had started to establish bases in space, but only the ones who were flexible – and understood the value of basic maintenance – had been genuinely successful.Janelle’s Grandfather might have suffered an unfortunate accident, yet quite a few other settlements had suffered accidents because the inhabitants hadn't bothered to replace the life support filters on a regular basis or – in one case – evicted the hired help on the grounds that any of the inhabitants could do the same job and probably better.The videos taken when American Marines had boarded the asteroid had made everyone who’d seen them sick to their stomach.Everyone inside had literally suffocated to death.“They might just move from star system to star system, without ever settling down,” he mused.“Or they might see us as a potential threat because we block their wandering path.But we could have bloody come to some agreement if only they would deign to talk to us!”He looked over at her.“Are they actually intelligent?”Janelle frowned, daintily.“It seems impossible to imagine someone building starships and space stations without some form of intelligence,” she mused.“And besides, they have tactics and attack plans instead of just charging at their targets and slaughtering madly.”Henry had hunted when he’d been a younger man.It wasn't politically correct, which was at least partly why he'd done it.Chasing through forests on horses, hunting foxes.he’d been a staunch supporter of the genetic engineers who had wanted to design far more interesting creatures to hunt, before the media had managed to embarrass them into taking their research to Sin City.But some of the foxes had shown a certain cunning that had sometimes embarrassed the humans chasing them.A couple had even managed to sneak around and escape their would-be killers.But they weren't truly intelligent, he knew.“I don’t know,” he said, finally.“But it just seems odd that we will never be able to talk to them.”“We don’t know that,” Janelle said.She put her hand on his shoulder and spun him around to face her.“And you don’t have to worry yourself over these matters.”Henry found himself gazing into her eyes.His breath caught in his throat.Part of him wanted to lean forward to kiss her, part of him held back, terrified of her reaction.And then he pushed the reaction aside and leaned forward anyway.Their lips met.And, for a long moment, there was nothing in the universe, but her.“I’m sorry,” he breathed, when he pulled back.He was suddenly very aware of her breasts pressing against his chest.His hands twitched, demanding to reach for them.But was that the right thing to do? What did normal people do when they’d just kissed a girl? His life hadn't taught him how to have a normal relationship.It wasn't something he could ask anyone on the ship.“I’m.”“Don’t be,” she said.“Just.just relax.”Henry smiled and leaned forward to kiss her again.Chapter Twenty-SixCaptain Tom Cook had few illusions about his command.HMS Primrose was a warship only by courtesy.She’d started life as a heavy bulk freighter, one of hundreds designed to transports goods and settlers from Earth to Britannia, then been hastily reconfigured as a light carrier when it had become obvious that the Royal Navy needed more fighter platforms in a hurry.She was an ugly boxy creation, studded with weapons and sensor blisters, but he cared for her deeply.There was something about his ship that was solid and reliable.Once, he’d wanted to protest his assignment to the light carrier.He’d paid his dues, he’d served in the Navy for years; surely, he was entitled to a shot at commanding one of the modern carriers.But now, with the aliens targeting the modern carriers specifically, he had good reason to appreciate his command.If nothing else, it attracted less fire from marauding alien starships.And the two squadrons of starfighters crammed into her makeshift launching bays gave her a punch that, he hoped, had come as an unpleasant surprise to the aliens.“Captain,” the tactical officer said, “we have targeted the alien cloudscoops.”Tom nodded, looking down at the reports from the long-range sensors.There was nothing particularly special about the alien cloudscoops; as far as the techs could tell, they were effectively identical in concept to humanity’s designs.They were really just long tubes, hanging down from an orbital station and sucking in HE3 from the gas giant’s atmosphere, which would then be converted into fuel for fusion plants or starship drives.Oddly, Tom found the sheer conventionality of the system reassuring.The aliens might have some tricks humanity couldn’t – yet – match, but their technology was based on similar concepts.They had nothing so advanced, so inexplicable, that it might as well be magic.“Transmit the warning,” he ordered [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl centka.pev.pl
.But losing the rest of his friends – and Janelle – would hurt.“Or gathering a big enough hammer to smash us to pieces with a single blow.”“Maybe,” Janelle said.“Why worry about it?”Henry had to admit she had a point.“How long do we plan to stay in this system if the aliens don't boot us back out?”“The Admiral was talking about a month,” Janelle said.“I believe the researchers were even asking to be allowed to stay behind, if we had to leave in a hurry.But no one expects to have that much time, really.”Henry agreed.Even assuming there were no deployable alien forces closer to Target One than the front lines, the aliens could probably scramble forces to Target One in a handful of days.And, even when the front lines were some distance from Earth, the human race had never significantly reduced the planet’s defences.There was just too much chance of the aliens launching a brutal raid on the planet.Logically, the aliens should feel the same way and race to reinforce Target One as quickly as possible.“I’d be surprised if they left us in peace for a couple more days,” he said.“Have we found anything under the waves?”“The probes have been observing alien cities,” Janelle said.“Haven’t you seen the pictures?”Henry shook his head.“No,” he said.“Just the planet itself.”“They look like.well, farms,” Janelle said.“But they also looked remarkably strange to human eyes.In some ways, the aliens may even be hunter-gatherers on a colossal scale, rather than settling down and growing their food like we do.Makes you wonder, doesn't it, what sort of culture they took to the stars?”Henry couldn't disagree.Several different human societies had started to establish bases in space, but only the ones who were flexible – and understood the value of basic maintenance – had been genuinely successful.Janelle’s Grandfather might have suffered an unfortunate accident, yet quite a few other settlements had suffered accidents because the inhabitants hadn't bothered to replace the life support filters on a regular basis or – in one case – evicted the hired help on the grounds that any of the inhabitants could do the same job and probably better.The videos taken when American Marines had boarded the asteroid had made everyone who’d seen them sick to their stomach.Everyone inside had literally suffocated to death.“They might just move from star system to star system, without ever settling down,” he mused.“Or they might see us as a potential threat because we block their wandering path.But we could have bloody come to some agreement if only they would deign to talk to us!”He looked over at her.“Are they actually intelligent?”Janelle frowned, daintily.“It seems impossible to imagine someone building starships and space stations without some form of intelligence,” she mused.“And besides, they have tactics and attack plans instead of just charging at their targets and slaughtering madly.”Henry had hunted when he’d been a younger man.It wasn't politically correct, which was at least partly why he'd done it.Chasing through forests on horses, hunting foxes.he’d been a staunch supporter of the genetic engineers who had wanted to design far more interesting creatures to hunt, before the media had managed to embarrass them into taking their research to Sin City.But some of the foxes had shown a certain cunning that had sometimes embarrassed the humans chasing them.A couple had even managed to sneak around and escape their would-be killers.But they weren't truly intelligent, he knew.“I don’t know,” he said, finally.“But it just seems odd that we will never be able to talk to them.”“We don’t know that,” Janelle said.She put her hand on his shoulder and spun him around to face her.“And you don’t have to worry yourself over these matters.”Henry found himself gazing into her eyes.His breath caught in his throat.Part of him wanted to lean forward to kiss her, part of him held back, terrified of her reaction.And then he pushed the reaction aside and leaned forward anyway.Their lips met.And, for a long moment, there was nothing in the universe, but her.“I’m sorry,” he breathed, when he pulled back.He was suddenly very aware of her breasts pressing against his chest.His hands twitched, demanding to reach for them.But was that the right thing to do? What did normal people do when they’d just kissed a girl? His life hadn't taught him how to have a normal relationship.It wasn't something he could ask anyone on the ship.“I’m.”“Don’t be,” she said.“Just.just relax.”Henry smiled and leaned forward to kiss her again.Chapter Twenty-SixCaptain Tom Cook had few illusions about his command.HMS Primrose was a warship only by courtesy.She’d started life as a heavy bulk freighter, one of hundreds designed to transports goods and settlers from Earth to Britannia, then been hastily reconfigured as a light carrier when it had become obvious that the Royal Navy needed more fighter platforms in a hurry.She was an ugly boxy creation, studded with weapons and sensor blisters, but he cared for her deeply.There was something about his ship that was solid and reliable.Once, he’d wanted to protest his assignment to the light carrier.He’d paid his dues, he’d served in the Navy for years; surely, he was entitled to a shot at commanding one of the modern carriers.But now, with the aliens targeting the modern carriers specifically, he had good reason to appreciate his command.If nothing else, it attracted less fire from marauding alien starships.And the two squadrons of starfighters crammed into her makeshift launching bays gave her a punch that, he hoped, had come as an unpleasant surprise to the aliens.“Captain,” the tactical officer said, “we have targeted the alien cloudscoops.”Tom nodded, looking down at the reports from the long-range sensors.There was nothing particularly special about the alien cloudscoops; as far as the techs could tell, they were effectively identical in concept to humanity’s designs.They were really just long tubes, hanging down from an orbital station and sucking in HE3 from the gas giant’s atmosphere, which would then be converted into fuel for fusion plants or starship drives.Oddly, Tom found the sheer conventionality of the system reassuring.The aliens might have some tricks humanity couldn’t – yet – match, but their technology was based on similar concepts.They had nothing so advanced, so inexplicable, that it might as well be magic.“Transmit the warning,” he ordered [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]