And what is your response?
— Why do not you sit in the Academy? — with a question the General replied, — You are the best teacher of those that I have seen. And like you, in the Confederacy — units. "Learned to fly the SCRAG" is a brand. That is recognized by all the officers ATT...
— Vladimir Semenovich! — Koshcheev clasped the fingers of both hands into the lock and looked at the sad authorities. — I left the front part at your request. The wording, remember?
— Vaguely...
— And I remember. Word for word... — Koshcheev a wry smile and little thought, he quoted: — "according to my intelligence, the war is about to move into a stage position. In the previous two years we lost too many good pilots, so the number one task that we see for the coming years is the training of worthy change, is able to beat the enemy at least amount"...
— I remember something like that... ' said Kharitonov.
— That's not all. "We came to the conclusion that the present best point of application of forces best pilots of the Confederacy is not a war, and teaching. So I'm asking you as an officer and patriot some time to work as a flight instructor of business at any Academy of your choice..."
— My words. As I recall, you thought something about a week...
— Eight days. I agreed. Because you were right. Then... nodded the captain. — Today the situation has changed. First, the war moved into an active phase, and in the near future we should expect a series of attempts to capture the inhabited systems of the Margin. Secondly, the only force that can change the balance of forces with the Cyclops, are your Demons. So, my teaching at the Academy loses all meaning. Third, "some time" is not FOREVER...
— You could teach I... — bowed head on his shoulder, chuckled the General.
— How? In order to adjust the operation of a cadet, I have to be faster than him. And more experienced. Alas, compared to the possibilities of your modificando my skills — sophomoric. I've studied all the records of their fights, which are found in the public domain. And those that I have taken myself around Kweli. The conclusion is simple — I won't be able to fly. Never. And to teach them something too. Not enough physical condition. Therefore, as an officer and a patriot, I consider it my duty to ask in the second phase of the Project. Or third: you want to benefit from maximum efficiency. Want to feel like a pilot...
You are the pilot. Not just a "Master-pilot"...
— Yes? In the system of Quinti entire Twelfth fleet had shot down three fighters Cyclops! THREE!!! And ten "Krechetov" your Demons — twenty-eight. Without losing any of their own. How? Vladimir Semenovich! I know I was capable of one of them less than a year ago. He taught him So, in such a short period of time wolves could not fly with his subordinates. I analyzed every move of its executives. Such coherence is impossible to achieve some training — each Board it flies like managed shared iskinom. But under the constant operation of generators of interference is unrealistic. The conclusion is that either you solved the problem with shielding the signal, or change the Demons not only physically. The first variant disappears — why go breaking the law of the deep intervention in the human genome, if the squadron managed claims— us "screened" machines, able to withstand any overload, can hit any ship of the Cyclops? Illogical. So, Demons have something that allows you to respond to the changing operational environment not so much solo, but in group mode -- In General, I have little interest in the name or properties — I want to return to a combat unit. Actually, not so. I want to serve in the best military unit of the Confederacy — a division of Demons. And together with them to beat the Cyclops. That is to go through the same chain of changes that is experienced wolves.
It's not as easy... sigh Kharitonov. You're not twenty years...
— I'm ready for any necessary procedures, starting with the standard rejuvenation. And any risk... — shrugged Koshcheev. — I — pilot. And they will die. Even on the operating table...
— Well... — sighed the General. Tomorrow I'll sign your transfer orders in the First division of the CCA HQs. So the Academy might not return. Coordinates komma leave the Secretary — I'll contact you. Happy?
— Thank you, Mr mayor... — Koshcheev happily smiled. — I will not fail...
— And I have no doubt... — Kharitonov glanced at his Communicator, darkly my eyebrows on the bridge of his nose and stood up from the chair, handed to the captain of his massive, covered with calluses palm: Okay, run.
— If... Okay, wait for the call...
Lolita Shklovsky rushed in, nearly knocking failed to step aside koshcheeva. And, barely waiting until the captain come out into the waiting room, demanding looked at Kharitonov:
— Vladimir Semenovich! I urgently need new GA...
— Yes? — outraged General. And Earth you don't need? Sit down! What's going you doing? Now... wait a second... Here! Found!
Appeared on the Desk monitor and it was a sad face the doctor.
"Yes. I hate them... And would give anything to be one of the two girls in your unit..."
— "...and would give anything to be one of the two girls in your unit..." — mimicked the girl General. — I wonder how you would know that in subdivision two of them, if he saw the face of Gomez on the screen, so "genuinely" surprised?
— I could see the news with Lagos. Before... His companion blushed slightly.
In this case, you had to know the guys in the club... sigh Kharitonov. Unless you are a complete idiot. Do not suffer from lapses in memory: in the video, filmed under the personal direction of Mr. McGregor, they have not shown is that naked.
— I could only see part of...
— Dr. Shklovsky! — frowned the General. I don't know about you, but I think that the job you failed. Yes, as a result of your exposure to the index, the morale of Lieutenant Gomez rose and walked out of the critical zone. But their "creative" approach to the implementation of the recommendations of the psychologists, you almost...
— I understand... — the Girl sprang to her feet and stared at call the authorities. But I wanted to enhance the effect of the last sentence...
— I also much like to... motioned her to sit down Kharitonov. — You are the doctor. And must understand that in this Project, as the Demon of time! Think, why we all day and night monitoring each of modificaton? Idleness? Or we really like to dig into their personal life?
— I don't think...
— And you think, girl! None of us don't like it. We just HAVE to. Because you can't let the Project slide. The slightest mistake — and the lives of those few who are able to fight on equal terms with Cyclops, will be threatened. After a nervous breakdown any of them can cause a chain reaction with unpredictable results. — General paused a moment, collected his thoughts and continued: — I don't know about you, but for me any of the Demons Personality. A person worthy of respect. I would like to have them my friends. And I hate myself for the fact that he had to manipulate them... If it were not for the war...
— If it were not for the war, I was living with her husband and children in her Hyde rock. And they would take birth at a local clinic... ' said the doctor Shklovsky. Why, then did up the top button of the blouse and added: — Instead of building a mother-heroine...
— Do not understand? — frowned the General.
— I need a new Georgia. I'm pregnant, So pretty soon you will have the first information about the possibility of obtaining offspring from your beloved Demons. And, of course, all the nuances of bearing such fruit...
— Have you lost your mind? — Kharitonov jumped up from her chair and, going round the table, crouched in front of his co-bedenica. Pregnant from modificata impossible! Defense mechanism hardwired into the genome...
— Protective mechanism expected I... snorted the doctor. — So, you can work around it. Mutations Demons ended last week. And I need to be sure that none of our enemies will not be able to take advantage of a sweet opportunity to get a super soldier with the help of placed under one of the children of a
surrogate mother.
— And you decided to get pregnant themselves? — escaped the General.
— And who, in your opinion, was to act as a Guinea pig? — outraged Shklovsky.
Well, found someone. Volunteer...
— And me, of course, made... — Lolita wryly grinned. — Who better than me will be able to control the process and track everything that happens in the mother's body changes?
— Ramon, you know? interrupted her monologue Kharitonov. — As I recall, the purpose of your arrival was only a correction of the moral status of Gomez. And not experiment with fertilization, I am a military man and do not understand the initiative.
— In the laboratory ready to observe the Process...
— I asked, does major Rodriguez! — growled the General. — You can answer just "Yes" or "no"?
— No. Don't know. I wanted to tell him after arrival... I had no guarantee that my compensator work. And that Gomez will impregnate me the first time...
— Will take the new Georgia tomorrow. At eight in the morning... — restraining anger, hissed Kharitonov. — About your pregnancy we will talk with Rodriguez and Pletnev: I'm not an expert. The only thing I want to say I am VERY unhappy.
— Imagine, Yes!
— Now! I forbid ANY experiments that were not coordinated with me or major Rodriguez. Any! You okay?!
— Even if at stake will be the existence of all mankind? — put her hands on her hips doctor Shklovsky.
Who cares! This is the army, not a brothel! — feeling like under your fingers crumble the body komma, yelled the General. Is that understood? Then go to your room! Immediately!!!
Kharitonov knocked on the door to our room at five o'clock in the morning. And, not allowing me to say a word, nodded towards leaning against the wall next to our door a young man in the form of aircrew HQs:
— Paul Zabrodin. Your analyst. Talk to Becker — let him give him the room next to you. Next, tomorrow, in the second half, have to get an interesting boat, but, alas, I will not accept — they fly new Georgia. Therefore, the representative of "Central Speysship" will contact you. After you take the car, go to Ridley — he'll introduce you to new men. The day after tomorrow must deliver the pilot suits and weapons — they will test for Iron Joe promised to allocate time for you on the site. Report on our findings will give him the same — he will send it to me by winder. What else?
— The patrol... — his voice Zabrodin.
Yes. This morning one of the three links should always be in space — if you believe the calculations Zabrodina, the probability of occurrence in the system of reconnaissance ships of the Cyclops is very high. However, as the probability of a full invasion...
— Two orbital fortresses on the system is too little... — I interrupted. — Do not post at least four?
Kharitonov, and without my comments was in disgusting mood, grit his teeth:
Four? You know how much work I had to knock two more? And they will arrive not earlier than in a week.
— And at least another twenty days of installation... — whistled me. — I am afraid that Cyclops so will not wait. I had to move before!
— Early? — furious General. Shipyards are working non-stop. Only now their products first takes Metropolis! In their opinion, the main thing is to protect the Central sector of the Confederation. As well, there is concentrated the whole business! A margin can be secured and then...
— ! — Escaped me.
— No, son. It's not idiocy, and the System. I know that we have to protect carefully? Politicians! People, it is important to lighten up and have the right to decide who lives and who dies. And change the order impossible. Okay, all this is irrelevant. Yeah, try a little more to drive the Becker guys — if anything, I hope you'll be able just for them. Appropriate instructions he has already received...
— Yes, sir... — I nodded.
Now I've got... is forcing himself to be calm, sighed Kharitonov. I wasn't planning to leave so early, and you have to... Stay here, okay?
To answer him I did not — just shook the outstretched hand, stood closer look something too much alarmed superiors and walked him to his parked in front of the barracks of the "Drops".
Back to bed I could not — next to the duty officer in the unit I was greeted by a sleepy-eyed captain Becker, apparently, raised from his bed by a call to Kharitonov. Before I formulate assigned tasks before me, he looked at staying near me Zabrodina and asked:
Room you need?
The analyst nodded.
— Catch code. Room eighteen. On the same layer as that of the guys Volkov. Yes, still: to gain access to the barracks, you must authorize comm...
Thank you, for... Zabrodin looked at frowning the shift Lieutenant and boyish grinned As Kharitonov with Volkov talked... anyway there was nothing to do...
— Hacked or something? I asked and saw how his face appears very satisfied smile and laughed.
The branch server's impossible to break into... — hesitantly suggested Becker.
Yeah, I guess so... — Paul scratched his head and winked at the startled captain: — I Just didn't know about it. Next time I'll try not to be able to... Okay, let's go to my room. Want to sleep...
— Who is this? — having watched the receding guy, whispered Becker. — Some wise guy from the staff?
— Right... — I smiled. — Okay, let's count up the training plan and schedule of joint patrols for the next two days...
...Couple of fighters Cyclops appeared in orbit Lagos-four seventeen forty-nine for obseruations. And, not paying any attention to is located ten minutes by foot patrol, rushed in pursuit of the running acceleration of the passenger liner "Meridian".
Link Williams caught up with Cyclops literally a minute from the doomed ship, with a maximum distance punched in the security field slave a couple of "Whales". But four Werewolves, flying past out of course of enemy fighters, the move drove grappling hooks in case of "Meridian". And, after stopping the engines, closed it for its fields of reflection. And then took all six heavy torpedoes fired by Cyclops. Brutalized by the neglect of Helen, casually cut the slave all four aft emitter, put into it became a helpless machine as many as four "Piranhas". Starting with weapons pylons and ending with the emitters of the protective field. ... And invited the Werewolves "a little practice"...
To bring down devoid of the ability to resist the ship, the guys Becker took more than ten minutes. With a good half of them, the Cyclops was not trying to escape, and attacked a couple of times I almost rammed rendered is not fast enough pilots. In General, the results of the great experiment lowered the self-esteem of our neighbors in the barracks. also upset me — alas, in case of an invasion to hope he had only the power of our orbital fortresses. And, maybe the force field ships of the line...
— An hour and a half up into space all the cars... — In the voice Zabrodina, swept into the tactical class, sounded genuine concern. — By the way, what are you doing here?
— Trying to figure out new maneuvers and options in a group of three or four ships... I turned to him. — Sorry, but that statement, which I gave to Raymond, crude in the extreme...
— Found something to do! It's none of your business! Throw me on the comm all the sources, and I'll do it quickly and accurately... also did Paul. — How many fly to the system of Shannara?
— Two forty-three... — verify with the BK-ashka, I replied.
— That's it. Four hours ago Williams brought down the intelligence unit of the Cyclops. Tell me that you would have sent only two ships after lost just four?
— Perhaps not...
— Why the two emerged from Lagos-four? — he persisted. Usually they appear much more...
Why? — breaking away from the trainer, asked Irina.
— They need to make sure you are there... — shrugged Paul. — That is if the fighters will appear near the orbital fortresses will detect them faster. And those who will be sent to intercept, save time in flying through the entire system. If this
pair down, so the unit can resist them, here. The machine does not return to the basing system through the control period of time and then... two options... — guy's frustration wilted. Any fleet POPs up here, either they invade somewhere else. Where there is no you... Logical?
— Perhaps...
— In short, if they raise a group, which is based in the system of Shannara, waiting phenomena their ships have two hours: in my estimation, control the time of their fighters in our system is unlikely to be more than an hour...
— Then you have to call a code Yellow! — I twitched. — If not Orange...
Yes. Civilian ships in space doing nothing — agreed to the Ira and, before I make a decision, have joined a common channel mileslas: — Guys! The gathering in a tactical class, It's urgent...
— Well, then sit? — seeing that we are not going to flee to their ships, angrily blurted out Zabrodin. — My calculations you are not convinced?
— Link Semenova on patrol. The others will be here. The message to Colonel Ridley I write... I threw the resulting file with BC-of a Cup on the comm and, pointing to the "hot" sensor, sent it to the recipient.
— Excellent! — I smiled analyst. — And take me with you?
— Muzzy? — stared at him with Orlov. — Do you know what overload feels the pilot of "Falcon"?
— As I recall, at regular fourteen and a half "" directed along the axis of the head, pelvis, spine crumbles... I Zabrodin. — But you're healthy, and your cars have gravitometer. So the value is much less... And I can wear battle armor with a compensating layer...
After hearing his reasoning, She laughed. Behind her snickered and I...
— What having fun in a mug, you bastards? — emerged in the doorway, in his inimitable style asked Ricky. Well!!! I had someone tell me?
— Our valiant analyst decided to fly with us on a Cyclops... AND EVEN willing, if we really ask to put on the suit... is not ceasing to laugh, explained Ira. — Well, Vic thinks, worth it or not?
— No point to wear a suit there! — authoritatively told our resident clown. — Need to fly in shorts and a t-shirt. You can wear sunglasses. The only thing without which in flight can not do, is without a long black cloak with a hood...
Hell's army officers Page 17
