"Michael McCollum - Antares 03 - Antares victory" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCollum Michael)

“Everyone, Admiral. You are the last to arrive. I am here to guide you to the briefing.”
“Then guide away.”
The young prince reversed his position and pulled himself along the guideline toward the hatch leading
out of the hangar bay. Drake followed him. Soon the two of them were gliding through the corridors and
passageways of the big terrestrial blastship. Unlike Drake’s original command, which was a ring and cylinder
design,Victory was an oversize cylinder, the better to utilize interior volume while retaining the ability to spin
the ship for artificial gravity. It was an outrigger design, with many of its weapons and instruments in twin
pods held stationary while the central body rotated, not unlike Drake’s new flagship,Conqueror II . As he
trailed Phillip through endless corridors and passageways, he wondered how the prince could have
memorized the route in the short time he had been onboard.
Around them, serious-faced men and women moved with hurried purpose. If they recognized the insignia
on the two colonial officers’ shoulders, they made no sign. Besides, spacers maneuvering in micro gravity
had need of both hands for locomotion and none left over for saluting.
After it seemed they had traversed the entire length of the big ship, Phillip guided him to a large
compartment in which three hundred naval officers were crammed into every available cubic meter, placing a
heavy strain on the blastship’s environmental system. These were the captains and executive officers of the
ships that had gathered in the Napier system in preparation for entering the Antares nebula. They did not,
however, represent the whole of the invasion fleet, or even a majority of it. Task Force Spica would consist of
eight major components, of which only two were representedaboardVictory . The fleets that made up the rest
of the invasionforce were assembling in half a dozen star systems across human space. They would
rendezvous with the Altan and Sandarian fleets, and the sizeable Terrestrial Space Navy contingentthat had
been assigned to augment them, once allwereinside the nebula.
Most of those present had strapped themselves into seats bolted to the curved deck, while several
clumps of officers floated free to consult with one another. As Drake entered, acceleration alarms began to
hoot and a disembodied voice announced the imminent return of spin gravity. Drake quickly used the
“overhead” handholds to move to his position at the table that had been set up at the front of the
compartment.
There he joined Grand Admiral Georges Terence Belton, who was already strapped into his seat. The
admiral was reviewing his notes. AtDrake’s approach, he looked up and nodded gravely.
“Welcome,Drake. How was the trip from Alta?”
“Hurried, sir. I wish the lizards had given us another month to prepare.”
“Hell, why not ask for another year?”
“No sense tempting the fates, sir. A month would have been sufficient.”
Belton rubbed his chin, and then nodded. “You might be right. I know I would have been more prepared
for this coming fight. Still, while we are wishing, we might want to ask for another hundred orbital fortresses.”
“Just get us the ones we already have in time to do some good, sir.”
G.T. Belton was in overall command of the Spica Operation, andDrake’s boss, even though he would not
be going within a hundred light years of the fleet’s objective. Belton had done a brilliant job in bringing a billion
disparate elements together to mount the invasion. However, like General Groves of the fabled Manhattan
Project, Belton’s skills were that of an organizer more than a warrior. Now that the time had come to put his
planning into practice, he would continue in overall command – as much as a sop to the politicians of Earth
as for military necessity – but a younger, more vigorous commander would take over direct operational
responsibility for the invasion.
After a lengthy debate in which several of the better-known candidates had counterbalanced one another
out of the job, a little-known colonial officerhad been chosen for operational command of humanity's invasion
fleet. That officer wasRichard Drake, of the Altan Space Navy.
“Ready to give the lizards a swift kick in the tail?” Belton asked as he buckled in.
“Yes, sir,”Drakereplied. “And thank you for the trust you have shown in supporting me for this
command.”
“You may want to hold your appreciations until you have a few engagements under your belt. Being at