"Eric Flint & K. D. Wentworth - The Course of Empire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flint Eric)

"Vaish," the officer said. The traditional greeting of inferior to superior signified
recognition of background and ties, far more than their disparity in military rank. His
voice sounded somewhat strained. "I was told to expect a new Subcommandant, to
command the jinau troops, but not that so illustrious a scion had been appointed."
"Your designation?" Aille asked, his tone casual.
The other flinched, most likely not prepared to be recognized at this point on such an
intimate level. It was an honor to be known by one's superiors and not always accorded.
"Pleniary-Adjunct Mrat krinnu nao Krumat, at your disposal." His posture indicated
respectful-attention as they took one another's measure, but just for an instant the Jao's
eyes shimmered a bright glimmering green, a sign of unease.
Aille was not surprised at the unease; indeed, he'd been expecting it. Terra had been
Narvo territory since the conquest, and normally the great kochan moved delicately
around each other. For Pluthrak to send one of its scions to Terra in order to assume a
major post was a subtle statement that it no longer considered Narvo's influence on the
planet untouchable. Needless to say, the prospect of being caught in the middle between
the two greatest of Jao kochan was going to make those who belonged to small and
poorly affiliated ones more than a bit nervous.
But Mrat recovered his poise quickly. He stepped aside, his body retaining the lines
and angles of respectful-attention. "I turn command of these jinau troops over as the
foundation of your personal guard. May you enlighten them many times over."
Aille studied the naked Terran faces. Without whiskers to give them expression, or
velvety nap to cover the skin, or even facial banding to indicate their background, they
seemed curiously immature, like Jao juveniles before their vai camiti came through. He
walked closer, a nonchalant slant to his ears, tapping his new bau against his palm.
"I understood my command was to be of mixed troops, Pleniary-Adjunct. By all
appearances, these are native to the last individual."
Mrat glanced up and his eyes flashed bright-green again before he returned his gaze
to the sunstruck pavement. "True integration has proven difficult, Subcommandant. Units
composed of both species tend to be—" His ears wavered and Aille caught a hint of
shameful-failure. "—unstable."
"I saw none of this in the reports."
The Krumat stiffened while Yaut adopted the aspect of indifferent-waiting, his
deceptively casual ears drinking in every phoneme. "Commandant Kaul krinnu ava Dano
deems such mention unnecessary. He believes . . ."
The officer's golden face creased in concentration as he searched for a properly
prudent explanation. "He believes that younger and less experienced officers, such as
myself, have exaggerated the problem." The Krumat's eyes wandered to the restless,
untidy sea as white-capped breakers rolled in and deposited slimy green streamers of
vegetation in their wake upon the sand. His ears were canted bleakly. "I am quite sure he
is correct and I therefore wish to make restitution for my error. Shall you require my
life?"
"No!" Aille responded instantly, very startled. His pulse raced as he fought to contain
his surprise and maintain his calm posture. Flow threatened to slip from his grasp so that
time raced past. With a slow, deep breath, he tightened his timesense, making perception
occur at his bidding, not whizz by out of control.
One heard of lives being surrendered for crucial mistakes made during battle, or other
such major failures. But he'd never expected to be offered such here in this setting, in
front of a squad of jinau, for nothing more that what seemed a minor lapse. The
kochanata experts had told him that they sensed Narvo was losing control of the situation
on Terra. Was this a sign of it?