" Perry Rhodan 0029 - (22) Fleet of the Springers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

Eberhardt!" "I'm ready," Eberhardt replied. The two enemy ships started to
brake. "Three point six!" "Don't be surprised if we have to perform some
rough dodging after the first shot," Tiff warned. "I'll try to stay within the
range of our neutralizer but I can't promise I can do it. So better brace
yourselves for some hard shocks." Nobody answered. A few seconds later
Hifield shouted triumphantly: "Three and a half!" "Fire!" With wide eyes
Eberhardt stared at the thin line of light in the centre of his target screen
and blasted the first disintegrator shot away with a loud cry. "Missed!"
Hifield shouted disappointedly. Tiff forced the destroyer into a sharp curve.
The crew felt a gentle pressure, no more than one tenth G. Eberhardt's
rangefinder automatically followed the calibrated objective. "Three point
four!" "Fire!" This time Eberhardt refrained from shouting but Hifield
quickly screamed into the headphones: "Perfect!" Eberhardt sighed a breath of
relief. Tiff went into a second manoeuvre on the assumption that the
remaining ship would return their fire. The turn carried him about 500 miles
closer and Tiff realized instantly that this manoeuvre was the most serious
mistake he had made. He later found out that the range of the heavy Springer
guns was below that of the disintegrator and neutron-beamer on board the
destroyer. Before Tiff executed his last turn he had been outside the reach of
the Springer weapons. His latest turn brought him into the critical range and
the Springers were excellent shots. His craft suffered a terrible jolt. Tiff
closed his eyes in pain. When he was able to open them again the picture on
the observation screen had changed. The lights of the stars drew wild streaks
from right to left against the black background of space. The damage caused
the alarm to give off a whining signal but Tiff didn't need it to know that
the destroyer had been hit and its functions badly impaired. Tiff realized
that it was now a matter of life and death. "Eberhardt!" Eberhardt groaned:
"Yes...?" "Do you have him on target yet?" "On target? Good heavens, not Our
ship's gyrating. How can I..." "I know that," Tiff said brusquely. "The
rangefinder works automatically. Start firing when you have him lined up on
your scope or he'll finish us!" "Yes, I'm drawing a bead on him," Eberhardt
said shortly. "But only for three or four seconds." "That's enough," Tiff
barked. "Shoot!" Eberhardt got off another shot but it missed again. Instead
the destroyer took another hit that made it rotate in the opposite direction.
It also considerably slowed down the violent pitching. Apparently the blow
had only grazed them. The alarm signal didn't even sound. Eberhardt fired
again. This time he could see on the observation screen that a part of the
alien ship went up in gas. It was impossible to determine which part had been
vaporized and if the enemy was put out of action. "Keep shooting!" Tiff
urged. When the enemy came into view again he noticed a brilliant white
needle-shaped energy-beam flash from the undamaged section of the ship. He
doubled up in expectation of the jolt but there was none. The shot soared past
the incapacitated destroyer into empty space. However Eberhardt's last shot
hit a bull's-eye in midship and eliminated the threat once and for
all. "We've been lucky," Eberhardt said dryly. "We've just run out of energy
for the cannons." Tiff whistled through his teeth. "Bad news!" he replied
quietly and began to check his instruments. First he looked at the life
system control indicator. The red lamp blinked and a warning sign read:
EMERGENCY RESERVE, DURATION 15 HOURS. The hyperwave-transmitter was knocked
out. Tiff switched on the receiver but all he could hear was a faint