"MacDonnell, J E - 125 - Blind Into Doom UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacDonnell J E)

as remote and awe-inspiring as himself), and followed by an
entourage of officers. The inspection's ostensible function was to
check the cleanliness of the ship, but as this was in the proven hands
of Commander Blake and the captains of tops Duncan's examination
- J.E. Macdonnell: Blind Into Doom Page 12 -



was more apparent than real. Instead, his memory was at work.
Here, in the wardroom flat, he saw not the polished cortisone but
the score of bloodied bodies lying on it and groaning, waiting their
turn at the surgeons'
hands in the wardroom-cum-operating theatre.
Down there, in the midshipmen's study flat, fire from the
incandescent head of an exploding shell had raged so fiercely that
the aluminium kit lockers had melted and also burned. That had been
particularly nasty, with the cordite of X-magazine only yards away.
He paused in the regulating-office flat, one of the largest
`tweendeck spaces in the ship. Its deck and paintwork required the
day-long attention of two men. Only one, the senior of the two, was
in attendance. He was a two-badged able-seaman, and Duncan knew
that he worked the long-handled scrubber each morning while his
ordinary-seaman helper did the dirty work of wiping up on hands
and knees. But that was the peculiar privilege of seniority, even though
neither man had any real disciplinary authority, and to change this
process might invite bloody revolution...
The senior rating stood stiffly to attention, looked his lord in the
eye, and snapped:
"Regulating-office flat ready for inspection, sir!"
Duncan nodded. His voice was pleasant.
"So it is, Able-Seaman Ogilvie. One almost needs sun-glasses
down here."
This was praise unprecedented. Ogilvie's dutiful smile stretched
uncontrollably into a grin. The entourage smiled. Blake's eyes held
a gleam of mischievous malice. He moved outboard a little.
"How is your leg?" Duncan asked.
Ogilvie had been one of those men lying outside the wardroom,
brought down from a pom-pom. He was so pleased at the captain's
interest and memory of the event that involuntarily he flexed his
right leg.
"She's apples, sir. No trouble at all now."
"Splendid," Duncan murmured, and moved on.
Not Blake. He knew that Ogilvie was inclined to be jack-stroppish,
and harder than was necessary on his ordinary-seaman minion. While
Ogilvie watched him, frowning, Blake reached down behind a large
- J.E. Macdonnell: Blind Into Doom Page 13 -



electric motor which fanned air through the ventilation punkas. On