"William C. Dietz - By Force of Arms" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dietz William)

bulged with pent-up emotion, his hands washed each other,
and the words emerged in spurts. "Ships! Hundreds of
them! Maybe more! All dropping hyper."

Small frowned. Given Long Jump's location, five ships
would be notable, ten would be extraordinary, and a hun-
dred was impossible. He stabbed a piece of meat. "Have
you been drinking? I thought you gave it up."

"No!" Hos said emphatically. "I ain't been drinking, and
here's proof."

Small accepted the note, read the corn master's barely
legible scrawl, and saw that the messenger was correct.
Assuming that the orbital sensors were functioning cor-
rectly, and there was no reason to think otherwise, hun-
dreds of alien ships had dropped into the system and more
were on the way.

Some, the majority from the sound of it, had adopted a
long elliptical orbit around the sun, while six vessels, big
honkers judging from the message, were in orbit around
Long Jump.

Small removed the crisp white linen from his chest,
folded the napkin along the creases, and put it aside. It was
important to maintain a front, to signal how unflappable
he was, in spite of the inexplicably empty feeling mat
claimed the bottom of his considerable gut. What was go-
ing on? A Confederate raid? Or just what the message

12 Wilfiam C. Dietz

claimed it was? Aliens out of nowhere? Neither possibility
suggested an opportunity for profit.

Those thoughts were still in the process of flickering
through Small's mind when something twittered. McGurk
hauled a pocket corn out of his coat and held the device
to a badly misshapen ear. He listened, nodded, and turned



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to Small. "It's Hawker... He claims to have one of the
ships on the hom—and says Jorley Jepp wants to speak
with you."