"James P. Hogan - Giants 3 - Giant's Star" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hogan James P)

through Jupiter had seemed satisfied with the arrangements, however, and had stated that they
would take care of the rest.
The last message to go out via Jupiter had given the names of the persons who would make
up the reception party, their positions, and a brief summary of what they did and why each was in-
eluded. The aliens had reciprocated with a reply advising that three of their members would be
prominent in conducting their dealings with Earth. The first was "Calazar," who was described as
personifying the government of Thurien and its associated worlds-the figure nearest to a
"president" that the planet seemed to possess. Accompanying him would be Frenua Showm, a female
"ambassador" whose function had to do with affairs between the various sectors of Thurien society,
and Porthik Eesyan, who was involved with policies of scientific, industrial, and economic
importance. Whether or not more than just these three would be involved, the aliens hadn't said.
"This is all a striking contrast to the Shapieron's arrival on this planet," Danchekker
muttered, surveying the scene around them. That event Qfl the shore of Lake Geneva had been
witnessed by tens of thousands and shown live over the news grid.
"It reminds me of Ganymede Main," Hunt replied. "All we need is helmets on and a few Vegas
around. What a way to start a new era!"
On Hunt's other side, Lyn, looking lost in the outsize, fur-trimmed hood pulled closely
around her face, thrust her hands deeper into her jacket pockets and ground down a block of slush


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with her foot. "They're about due," she said. "I hope they've got good brakes." Assuming all was
on schedule, the ship would have left Thurien, over twenty light-years away, just about twenty-
four hours earlier.
"I don't think we need entertain any fears of ineptitude on the part of the Ganymeans,"
Danchekker said confidently.
"If they turn out to be Ganymeans," Hunt remarked, even
though by this time he no longer had any real doubts about the matter.
"Of course they're Ganymeans," Danchekker snorted impatiently.
Behind them Karen Heller and Jerol Packard, the U.S. Secretary of State, stood motionless
and silent. They had persuaded the President to go ahead with the operation on the strength of the
implication that the aliens, Ganymean or not, were friendly, and if they were wrong they could
well have committed their country to the worst blunder in its history. The President had hoped to
be present in person, but in the end had accepted reluctantly the advice of his aides that the
absence of too many important people at the same time without explanation would be inviting
undesirable attention.
Suddenly the voice of the operations controller inside the mess hall barked over the
loudspeaker mounted on a mast at the rear. "Radar contact!" The figures around Hunt stiffened
visibly. Behind them the team of UNSA technicians hid their nervousness behind a frenzied outbreak
of last-minute preparations and adjustments. The voice came again: "Approaching due west, range
twenty-two miles, altitude twelve thousand feet, speed six hundred miles per hour, reducing." Hunt
swung his head around instinctively to peer upward along with all the others, but it was
impossible to make out anything through the overcast.
A minute went by in slow motion. "Five miles," the controller's voice announced. "It's
down to five thousand feet. Visual contact any time now." Hunt could feel the blood pumping
solidly in his chest. Despite the cold, his body suddenly felt clammy inside his heavy clothing.
Lyn wriggled her arm through his and pulled herself closer.
And then the wind blowing down from the mountains to the west brought the first snatch of