"George R. R. Martin - A Peripheral Affair" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

“I'll be the judge of that,” Mandel said. “Is there anything else that could account for
this? Besides a malfunction, that is.”

“No, sir,” the lieutenant replied. “Not to my knowledge. The computer on every one
of our starships is in constant linkage with our monitor computer here by subspace
radio; so we know the location of each ship at all times. When a light goes red here, it
means one of our ships has stopped signaling.”
 Mandel nodded. “Nothing else that could stop the signal besides an attack on the
ship?”

“An attack wouldn't stop the signal,” the lieutenant said. “Nothing short of total
destruction would. The ship's computer is in the heart of a starship, heavily armored
by duralloy plates and shielded by special force screens. Even the crew would have
difficulty getting at it. And there are two independent backups in case of malfunction.

“No, sir,” he concluded, shaking his head. “A ship's computer will continue to
function and to signal as long as that ship is intact.”

Mandel looked over at the red light again. “Then it's war,” he said savagely.

The lieutenant looked aghast. “Sir!” he protested. “It's not—I mean—we don't—you
can't—”

“Spit it out, Lieutenant,” the admiral said sternly.

The lieutenant pulled himself together. “There's no cause to talk about war, sir. It
can't be a KwanDellan attack. It can't be. We've been at peace with the KwanDellans
for fifty years, sir. They'd have no reason to attack our ships. Besides, these scouts
have elaborate sensors. That's why they're out there. If a KwanDellan fleet—orany
kind of unauthorized vessel—had been detected, the crew would have plenty of time
to notify us. All we have here is a signal suddenly cut off. Probably a flaw in the
monitor computer or the monitor panel itself. We're checking that, sir.”

“You're naive, Lieutenant,” the admiral said. “You haven't seen war. I have. Maybe
these KwanDellans disguised their ship as a friendly merchantman until they got in
range. Or maybe they've discovered a new gimmick to blank our sensors. All sorts of
possibilities, Lieutenant. And this incident stinks of KwanDellan treachery. Those
bastards have never forgotten the licking we gave them, you know.”

The lieutenant's mouth was hanging slightly open. “But—but, even so, sir, it might
have been some sort of accident. An explosion in the warpdrives, or something. Or
maybe the attacker wasn't a KwanDellan. If there was an attacker.”

Mandel considered that. “Hmmmph,” he said. “We'll be playing right into
KwanDellan hands, but I suppose we had better check thoroughly first, before
mobilizing.”

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said smartly, looking enormously relieved. He glanced over
the catwalk railing, down at the holomap. “We can get a couple of scouts to the last
location of the missing craft in an hour, sir.”