"John G. Hemry - Kyrie Eleison" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hemry John G)

growing column of workers like herself as they shuffled toward the Bridge. Once
inside, she shoved her way toward the back, finally leaning against the cold stone
and looking upward. Carvings rioted across the stone above, telling the story of the
Wreck and the Survival, the Ordeal and the prophesized Rescue. Francesa felt the
cold reaching through the thin cloth of her shirt, sinking into her back, and forced
herself to stand away from the stone wall. She’d have to do it soon, anyway.

The lower area filled with workers, some of them casting wary eyes on the
members of the Watch who also entered to stand lining one side of the room, while
other workers steadfastly pretended to ignore the Watch’s presence. With security
assured by the Watch, the members of the Crew filed in, proceeding to their seats on
long benches set on a platform raised a few feet higher than the floor on which
Francesa and her peers stood. Francesa rested her eyes on the seated backsides of
the Crew and remembered for a moment that she’d once been able to find humor in
that view.

After the Crew came most of the Officers, going to individual chairs placed in
front of the Crew benches.

Then the Third Officer entered, standing and looking around to ensure
everyone was ready. “Attention!” he yelled.

The Officers and Crew came to their feet, standing rigid, while the workers
around Francesa shuffled into more erect postures.

First Officer Garvis Skein entered and walked slowly to the third level of the
Bridge, set a few feet higher than that on which the Officers’ chairs and Crew’s
benches rested. The third level was much smaller than the other two, bounded along
the back by a semicircular shelf of stone. On the stone shelf, which had been
polished smooth and shiny, were set many polished stones of various sizes and
colors, their settings forming patterns on the slab of stone.

Garvis stood before the small shelf of stone, waiting until the Third Officer
handed a lighted lamp to him. He waved his light over the shelf, making the flame
dance and causing the polished stones to wink rhythmically in time. “All systems
report errors,” he intoned, then paused.
 His audience chorused the reply, the Officers and Crew loudly and
enthusiastically while the workers spoke the words with varying degrees of emotion.
“Corrective action required.”

“All systems failing!”

“Corrective action required,” the reply came again.

“Our actions have failed! The Captain orders us to leave the ship!” Garvis
thundered.

“Show mercy, Captain!” the audience cried.

“Rescue will come!”