"Zach Hughes - Gold Star" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hughes Zach)

Stranden's Mule Class tugs were safe, dependable, serviceable. They
were old, however. Many of the Stranden's tugs had been phased out by
the companies that could afford the new equipment, could afford to bid
low enough to get the highly traveled stations.

Those men and women who made careers of spending years at a time
on a stationary ship at some designated pinpoint deep in space could pick
and choose. They chose the companies with the best equipment and the
best chance of salvage-money bonuses. Most companies, for example, had
home-planet transmission of entertainment programs aboard their tugs.
Stranden had only a film library.

The quality of the entertainment didn't concern two losers. They had
found each other. When Pete and Jan were dropped off to relieve the
two-man crew of the Stranden 47, they spent the first six months just
getting acquainted. Pete was glad it was an inactive post. He had gone
into tug work with the idea that maybe he'd luck out and get a crewman's
share of a big Lloyd's contract, maybe a freighter loaded with diamonds.
He'd been aboard one tug which blinked a disabled, antique training ship
back to the repair shops, and his share of the salvage money had been
almost a quarter of his salary for the two-year tour, but he'd never hit the
jackpot. Now he didn't care. He had all the treasure he would ever want.
He had the universe in his arms each night.

Pete was pleased in many ways. Stranden 47 was his first command.
He took orders from no one. He was pleased when, in the first year, the
total traffic handled by the 47 was one Blinkstat to be forwarded from a
distant X&A ship toward New Earth Headquarters. He was more than
content to have the 47 sit there in her designated spot, close by a blink
beacon, for the rest of the tour. He had Jan. Two losers had won big. Two
lonely people had discovered each other, and had found, in each other, the
key element needed for individual personal completion.

Rather spoiled by the inactivity, Pete resented the intrusion of the
unexplained, weak, ghostly signal. He fingered the dent in his skull and
worried about it. He looked forward to many more tours with Jan. But the
tape had recorded a signal, a blink signal. It had come from down the New
Earth range.

"It's all right," he told Jan, with a wry grin, when she told him to quit
worrying. "I've lost my power of deductive reason, so I can't worry as
deeply as most men can."

"That's not true," she said.

"It's impossible," he said.

"It was a glitch."