"Timothy Zahn - Cobra 1 - Cobra" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zahn Timothy)

Her eyes studied his face for a moment. "Uh-huh. Well, I'll tell you what, Moreau." Her fingers
jabbed buttons and she swiveled the plate around for his scrutiny. "As far as I know, there aren't any
specific plans at present to set up guerrilla networks on threatened planets. But if that is done—and I
agree it's a reasonable move—then one or more of these special units will probably be spearheading
it."

Jonny studied the list. Alpha Command, Interrorum, Marines, Rangers—names familiar and highly
respected. "How do I sign up for one of these?"

"You don't. You sign up for the Army and take a small mountain of tests—and if you show the
qualities they want they'll issue you an invitation."

"And if not, I'm still in the Army?"

"Provided you don't crusk out of normal basic training, yes."

Jonny glanced around the room, the colorful holosim posters seeming to leap out at him with their
star ships, atmosphere fighters, and missile tanks; their green, blue, and black uniforms. "Thank you
for your time," he told the recruiter, fingering the information magcard he'd been given. "I'll be back
when I've made up my mind."

He expected to return home to a dark house, but found his parents and Jame waiting quietly for him
in the living room. Their discussion lasted long into the night, and when it was over Jonny had
convinced both himself and them of what he had to do.

The next evening, after dinner, they all drove to Horizon City and watched as Jonny signed the
necessary magforms.



"So... tomorrow's the big day."

Jonny glanced up from his packing to meet his brother's eyes. Jame, lounging on his bed across the
room, was making a reasonably good effort to look calm and relaxed. But his restless fiddling with a
corner of the blanket gave away his underlying tension. "Yep," Jonny nodded. "Horizon City Port,
Skylark Lines 407 to Aerie, military transport to Asgard. Nothing like travel to give you a real
perspective on the universe."

Jame smiled faintly. "I hope to get down to New Persius some day myself. A hundred twenty whole
kilometers. Any word yet on the tests?"

"Only that my headache's supposed to go away in a couple more hours." The past three days had
been genuine killers, with back-to-back tests running from seven in the morning to nine at night.


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Cobra

General knowledge, military and political knowledge, psychological, attitudinal, physical, deep
physical, biochemical—they'd given him the works. I was told they usually run these tests over a