"Anderson, Poul - 1974 Flandry 11 - A Knight of Ghosts and Shadows (Knight Fl" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Poul)

A KNIGHT OF GHOSTS AND SHADOWS
==============================

Poul Anderson
=============

[22 feb 2003--scanned for #bookz]

[23 feb 2003--proofed for #bookz]

I
-

Every planet in the story is cold--even Terra, though Flandry came home
on a warm evening of northern summer. There the chill was in the spirit.

He felt a breath of it as he neared. Somehow, talk between him and his
son had drifted to matters Imperial. They had avoided all such during
their holiday.

Terra itself had not likely reminded them. The globe hung beautiful in
starry darkness, revealed by a view-screen in the cabin where they sat.
It was almost full, because they were accelerating with the sun behind
them and were not yet close enough to start on an approach curve. At
this remove it shone white-swirled blue, unutterably pure, near dewdrop
Luna. Nothing was visible of the scars that man had made upon it.

And the saloon was good to be in, bulkheads nacreous gray, benches
padded in maroon velvyl, table of authentic teak whereon stood Scotch
whisky and everything needed for the use thereof, warm and flawlessly
recycled air through which gamboled a dance tune and drifted an odor of
lilacs. The Hooligan, private speedster of Captain Sir Dominic Flandry,
was faster, better armed, and generally more versatile than any vessel
of her class had a moral right to be; but her living quarters reflected
her owner's philosophy that, if one is born into an era of decadence,
one may as well enjoy it while it lasts.

He leaned back, inhaled deeply of his cigarette, took more smokiness in
a sip from his glass, and regarded Dominic Hazeltine with some concern.
If the frontier was truly that close to exploding--and the boy must go
there again ... "Are you sure?" he asked. "What proved facts have you
got--proved by yourself, not somebody else? Why wouldn't I have heard
more?"

His companion returned a steady look. "I don't want to make you feel
old," he said; and the knowledge passed through Flandry that a
lieutenant commander of Naval Intelligence, twenty-seven standard years
of age, wasn't really a boy, nor was his father any longer the boy who
had begotten him. Then Hazeltine smiled and took the curse off: "Well, I
might want to, just so I can hope that at your age I'll have acquired,