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

and his success and was doing everything in his power to block Garris’ further
advancement.

If he could crack this thing—and crack it in a way that made the admiral look
foolish—it could only help, Garris figured. Mandel would probably be sent off to still
more distant exile. And he, Garris, would get a promotion. Perhaps a transfer to one
of the new dreadnoughts, engaging in real exploration.

The captain smiled faintly and began to pore over the papers that Richey had left.
This was too good an opportunity to pass up.
 ****

The service file on Craig Hollander was delivered to Garris hours later while he sat on
the bridge supervising the Mjolnir 's methodical sweep through the last known
location of the Defiance . He turned to it with interest.

There was a color photograph of Hollander on the file cover, showing a young man
of medium height with a dark sun tan that spoke of birth under a sun harsher than
Earth's. His hair, so blond that it was almost white, was worn long and combed
forward so it fell across his forehead to his eyebrows. His eyes were bright blue, and
he was grinning crookedly at the camera, which was rather unusual for a fleet mug
shot.

Garris studied the picture briefly, then flipped open the file to begin going over its
contents. But he had hardly glanced at the first paper when he was interrupted.

“We've got something, sir,” the crewman manning the sensory monitors reported
from across the bridge. “Not a ship. Debris of some sort.”

Garris laid the file atop his command console and promptly forgot about it. “Hook on
with tractors and pull it aboard,” he ordered. He turned to the communications officer.
“Get me the landing deck.”

“Yes, sir,” the comm man replied. The huge viewscreen that filled the entire forward
wall of the bridge flickered, and the starscape it had been showing vanished. Instead,
the tired features of the third officer took form.

“We've got some debris that might be from the Defiance ,” Garris told him. “They're
bringing it aboard now with tractors. When they get it inside, spread it out on the
landing deck and go over it carefully. Check for radioactivity and laser damage. And
for any remains of the crew, of course.”

The man nodded. “Right, sir. Will do.”

“I'll be down shortly,” Garris added. “I hope the junk will tell you something.” He
turned and nodded to the comm man, and the viewscreen went dark. An instant later,
the starscape reappeared.

After turning over the bridge to Richey, Garris proceeded down to the landing deck.
Like any starship, the Mjolnir was strictly a deep-space vessel. It was never meant to