"Timothy Zahn - Cobra 2 - Cobra Strike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zahn Timothy)

COBRA STRIKE
11
starters—bio specs, tech level, specifics of their alleged threat; that sort of thing."
Stiggur shook his head. "Speaker One either doesn't have any more data or won't give it away
free—I've already pressed him on that. I suspect the former, personally; there's no particular
need for the Tlos demesne to buy what would be little more than abstract knowledge to them. Same
goes for information on these five alleged worlds the Pua demesne's offering, before anyone asks."
"In other words, we're being asked to sign an essentially blank agreement?" one of the newer
syndics asked.
"Not really." Governor Jor Hemner shook his head, the movement looking risky on one so frail.
"There are lots of intermediate possibilities, including buying the Baliu's data or sending our


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own survey team out to take a look. Standard Troft trade procedure assumes we'll come up with
these suggestions ourselves. What I'm worried about is whether setting a precedent of this kind is
a good idea."
"Why not?" someone else spoke up from Corwin's side of the room. "It's the fear of the Cobras that
keeps the Trofts friendly, isn't it? How better to show them that kind of caution is good policy?"
"And if we lose?" Hemner asked stiffly.
"The Cobras haven't lost anything yet."
Corwin glanced at Governor Howie Vartanson of Caelian, wondering if he'd comment. But the other
merely curled his lip slightly and kept silent. Politicans from Caelian tended to adopt that low-
profile position when they came to Aventine, Corwin had noticed; but the point, he felt, ought to
be made. Subtly, if possible.... "I'd like to point out," he spoke up, "that one or more new
planets would enable us to solve the problem of Caelian without depriving the 19,000 people there
of the right to their 'own' world."
"Only if they'd be willing to leave," Stiggur said;
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Timothy Zahn
but the mention of Caelian, as Cowrin had planned, seemed to bring the members' thoughts to the
current stalemate between the Cobras and that strange world's hostile ecology. "Fluid genetic
adaptation," the official reports elegantly called, it. The Caelians' own term was considerably
cruder: Hell's Blender. Every species on the planet, from the simplest lichen to the largest
predator, seemed mindlessly determined to hold onto his ecological and territorial niche against
all efforts to dislodge it. Clear some land and soak it with vegebarrier, and within days there
would be a dozen new plant variants attempting to reclaim it. Build a house where a thicket had
been, and before long the local fungi would be growing on the walls. Create a city, or even a
small town, and the displaced animals would find their way in somehow ... and not only the small
ones. A world under perpetual siege, Corwin had once heard Jonny call it. Only the Caelians
themselves knew how—or why—they put up with it.
For another long moment the room was again silent. Stiggur looked around, nodded at what he saw.
"Well. I think we can safely agree with Governor Telek that considerably more information is
needed before we can even consider acting. For the moment, then, you're to keep this proposal a
secret from the general populace while you work out the various pros and cons for yourselves. Now,
then—one final item and we'll be adjourned. I have a list of Cobra applicants awaiting final
Council approval." The twelve names—an unusually high number—appeared on Corwin's screen, along
with their home towns and districts. All the names were familiar ones; the Cobra Academy screeners