"JAMES LUCENO. SABOTEUR" - читать интересную книгу автора

to gain from the new partnership, and, of course, Tarkin himself, representing
Eriadu's political interests.
Sporting the finest in robes and tunics, everyone was gathered on the esplanade
level of the orbital facility, awaiting the arrival of the ore barges LL and
InterGal had dispatched. The separate flotillas were scheduled to arrive within
an hour of each other, local time.
"I'm certain that this will be an auspicious day for all of us," the lieutenant
governor was telling Arrant and the head of Eriadu Manufacturing. Tarkin was a
slight man, with a quick mind and an even quicker temper. He stood as rigidly as
a military commander, and his blue eyes held neither humor nor empathy.
"Tell me, Arrant," the manufacturing executive said, "do you foresee a time when
Lommite Limited, on its own, could supply enough ore to meet the demands we're
projecting for the near future?"
"Of course," Arrant answered confidently. "It's simply a matter of expanding our
operations." He turned and tugged Patch Bruit into the conversation. "Bruit,
here, is our field supervisor, among other things. He has just notified me of a
rich find, not a hundred kilometers from our present headquarters."
Bruit nodded. "Our survey teams-" he started to say, when one of LL's security
agents cut him off.
"Chief, I'm sorry to bust in, but we need to talk in private."
Arrant watched worriedly as Bruit allowed himself to be led away.
"What's going on?" Bruit demanded when he and the security man were just out of
earshot.
"Something has yanked the barges out of hyperspace short of their reentry
coordinates. We don't know the cause. It might be a problem with the hyperspace
generators, or maybe an uncharted mass shadow."
Bruit heard people gasp behind him. When he turned, everyone's attention was
fixed on the huge monitor screens that displayed views of the orbital shipyards.
Some distance from the shipyards, and way off course, several lackluster space
barges were reverting to realspace.
"Bruit, are those our vessels?" Arrant asked in mounting concern.
"Yes, but there has to be a good reason for their decanting early."
"This is most unexpected," Tarkin remarked. "Most unexpected."
The well-bedecked crowd gasped again. Bruit watched in shock as a second group
of ships began to emerge from hyperspace.
"InterGalactic," his security man said in disbelief.
"They're going to collide!" someone said.
"Bruit!" Arrant screamed, as the color drained from his face. "Do something!"
What Bruit did was look away.
The screams and cries, the groans and sobs, the strobes of explosive light
flashing across the polished floor of the habitat's esplanade deck told him
everything he needed to know. LL's and InterGal's barges had been manipulated
into mass collisions. Without looking, Bruit could see the lommite ore streaming
from fractured hulls, turning local space as white as the molten anger that
seethed behind Bruit's tightly shut eyelids.
"The Toom clan," he barked to his security man. "They've double-crossed us."
Someone collided with Bruit from behind. It was Jurnel Arrant, backing away from
the display screens in numb horror.
"We're ruined," he mumbled. "We're ruined."
Bruit cleared his head with a shake and clamped his hands on the shoulders of