"L. E. Modesitt - Spec-Ops" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

Incomplete or null feedback impairs biounit response and efficacy in direct
relationship to the total number of discrete units under operator influence and
the neural complexity of the individual unit...

--SPEC-OPS 1421.45
DARPA

****

VIII.
What could he do? DeJahn didn't know. Maybe nothing. Looked around the techs'
mess. He was the only one there. Coffee, ersatz shit... it was cold. Nothing worse
than cold, bitter, pseudo coffee.

Bullshit, deJahn. Lots worse things. Just scared that it might happen to
you. He pushed the thought away. Finally, he stood, shook his head.

He took the longer passageway. Softboots scuffed on the deck, almost silent.
Everything was muffled and damped in the station. Missed real sunlight. Missed lots
of real things. Sickbay was at the end, south end, he'd heard. Who knew when you
never saw the sun?

He stepped inside sickbay. Duty medtech just watched. Watched close.
 Vielho lay in the second bay, in a medsack that surrounded all of his body.
Only his face was exposed. His eyes were open, and his chest rose and fell.

A long moment passed, before deJahn spoke. "You'll be all right. You did a
good job." Was that right? Who the frig knew? "Vielho ... I'm here ... deJahn."

There was no response. The blank eyes did not move, did not blink.

DeJahn looked around the cubicle, located a stool. He pulled it over and sat
where Vielho's eyes could see him, if they could see.

Finally, after another ten minutes, the silence pressed in on him. So much that
he had to say something. Anything.

`Vielho ... you know .. . you remind me of my brother. He's younger. Not
much, two years. He's a teacher ... some out of the way place, Escalante ... he's like
you, always had something pleasant to say... That's why I asked about the tea. He
drinks tea. You know, one time, when we were moving the herd .. . yeah, the old
man still handles sheep the old way . . . Casimir found one of the ewes had dropped
twins late . . . never found their mother ... he bottle-nursed `em until they were old
enough to go with the others. . . ." DeJahn didn't know why he'd told that story, or
the one after it.

Finally, maybe an hour, maybe two, later, he got up from the stool, and leaned
over and put two fingers on Vielho's forehead. "Hold tight..."

Outside sickbay, he thought he saw Meralez in the passageway ahead, and he