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

"How about Grierson?" I looked across the gleaming rosewood conference table.

Sergeant M'bovo replied; the boy was of his barracks. "Good attitude, willing
worker, sir. Still waiting to see his Vail." Give your all, we cadets had been
exhorted. Over the years the "Navy all" had become a catchword, shortened to
theYall.

"He's only fifteen," Arlene's tone was gentle. Where I was often harsh with
green young middies, she tended to be more kind. Her parenting, even more than
my own, had nourished our son, Philip. Of course, in his adolescence even P.T.
had learned that Arlene's tolerance had limits. Lord God protect the youngster
who overstepped them.

Not so many years ago, as Philip had reached manhood, Arlene and I had spoken
seriously of having more children. But, with the cares of office... I signed.
Over my long career youngsters seemed to seek me out, as if expecting guidance
or assurance only I could provide. In return, I'd gotten too many of diem
killed.

"Mr. SecOetiT Hazen held the file, waiting.

I snapped my attention back to our conference, "Very well, we'll see." I slid
his folder into the "undecided** pile. Though a putar screen was inset into the
table in front of each seat, the Navy cherished its ttaditioni. One of them was
using old-style paper folders for cadet candidate files,

The purpose of my Academy jaunt was twofold. First, Devon was one of the few
places outside my own walled home in which I was free of the ubiquitous
mediamen. The Academy pounds were closed, and woe betide the heli that overflew
it

My other motive was more complex. Once, as Academy Commandant, I'd selected a
few cadets as special aides. It hadn't worked out; I'd gotten them massacred in
one of my senseless follies. Yet my successors, blind to my misconduct,
continued the tradition,

Years later, when I returned to public life as a Senator,
then as SecGen, I'd tired of the self-serving blather of my politically astute
assistants, and sought out younger adjutants. I'd coopted midshipmen fresh out
of Academy, and to my dismay, watched them grow into political creatures as
unacceptable as those they replaced

The solution I'd devised was to select them at Academy, before they became
middies, men—with an occasional exception—send them to a year or two aboard
ship. Thereafter, when they were offered a shoreside posting at the U.N.
Rotunda, I had at least a hope they'd remember their traditions and the
discipline of Naval life. Most of mem did, as long as I didn't keep them too
long. My current aide, Charlie Witrek, was a willing joey, one I'd come to like,
but in a week he would be rotated back aloft, and we'd bring down some middy I'd
chosen in previous years.