"Feintuch,.David.-.Seafort.06.-.Patriarchs.Hope.Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feintuch David)

Welcoming applause rolled across the crowded hall, whose coolers labored to
counteract the sweltering London summer.

I groped for my silver-headed cane, hoisted myself from my seat, and winked at
Artene, graving, gaunt, and lovely. "Shall I fire Dubrovik right nowr I was
half-serious.

Her tips barely moved. "Of course, dear. The Territorials would love a martyr as
a candidate, next election.**

With a sigh, I limped to me waiting microphones.

"Voyager is landing," Mark TUnitz, head of my security detail, muttered into his
throat mike. Our hen* set down precisely on the cross that marked the center of
Devon Naval Academy's pad.

TUnitz was an assignee of U,N, Investigations. General Donner was drawn from
U.N.A.F., Karen Bums from Naval Intelligence, other security agents from New
York Police Command. An odd system, but giving all services a hand in the
SecGen's protection deterred the formation of a praetorian guard, with the
resultant interservice jealousies.

I climbed out, under the sullen Devon afternoon sun. A security joey was
waiting, to hover at my arm lest I slip. "Do I look feeble?" My voice was
caustic. Perhaps I feared the answer. "Let me be. Here, Artene.** I extended a
hand.

Ducking through the hatchway, she climbed slowly down toe steps. "What's wrong,
Nicky? You've been cross all day."

"Nothing." My knee ached. "I hate those public ceremonies,** I forced a smile as
Commandant Hazen hurried to greet us. Overhead, the helis and jets mat
constituted my unwieldy protection detail moved off.

Normally, security accompanied me everywhere, but from my first administration
I'd drawn the line at Academy or the Naval wing at Earthport. Under no
circumstances would I allow Tilnitz and his eclectic crew to pretend I needed
guarding from the United Nations Naval Service, in which I'd served so
memorably. I would wander the Academy grounds unprotected, except by the
Commandant or his staff. It wasn't, after all, as if Academy were an open
campus.

I looked about. A tall iron fence surrounded the compound, meeting itself at the
guardhouse gate. As always, mulberry and juniper abounded, tended by Academy
staff and cadets. Above, tall maples tent then- shade, Devon Academy had once
been far from town, bat shops and pubs had sprung up to serve it Still, our
buildings were set well back from me fence, obscured by the extensive plantings,
which allowed a modicum of privacy,