"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автораsome time and only an occasional remark of Zogu's was audible. "The
Propaganda Department... Send him with an escort. It's not that much of a secret! I guarantee you... Order him to forget the whole thing. Damn it - the kid won't understand a thing anyway!" "Good," the captain finally agreed. "Corporal Varibobu! Write up escort papers!" The corporal rose slightly. "Are Private Gaal's travel orders ready?" "Yes, sir." "Insert Mac Sim's name in the orders as being under escort. Private Gaal!" Guy clicked his heels and snapped to attention. "Yes, sir." "I want you to deliver the prisoner to the address on this paper before you proceed to your new post. After you have carried out these orders, you must present this paper to the duty officer at your new station. Forget the address. This is your last assignment, Gaal, and I know you will execute it as befits a good legionnaire." "It will be done, sir," shouted Guy, flattered by the captain's confidence. Suddenly a hot wave of indescribable ecstasy swept over him and bore him aloft. "Oh, the sweet moments of joy, those unforgettable moments when one is on wings, those moments of sweet contempt for everything crude, material, and physical. Moments when you long to hear the command that will join you to fire, fling you into its flames against thousands of enemies, Fury! And now he is rising, this strapping, handsome fellow, the pride of the brigade, our own Corporal Varibobu. Like a fiery torch, like a statue of glory and fidelity. And he leads the singing, and we all join in as one! Forward, legionnaires, men of iron! Forward, sweeping away fortresses with fire in our eyes! We shall smash the foe with an iron boot! Let drops of fresh blood sparkle on our swords... "And everyone is singing with me, including the brilliant Captain Tolot, model legionnaire, cream of the Legion, for whom I would gladly give my life, my soul, my everything, this very instant. And Dr. Zogu is singing, too - a model brother of mercy, rough and tough as a real soldier, but tender as a mother, too. And our Corporal Varibobu, ours to the core, an old warrior, a veteran grown gray in skirmishes with the enemy. Oh, how his buttons sparkle and his stripes shine on his worn, well-earned uniform. For him there is nothing but to serve, to serve! Our iron fist sweeps away all obstacles. The All-Powerful Creators are pleased! How the enemy weeps! Show him no mercy! Onward, legionnaires, brave warriors! "But what's this? He'sHe's not singing. He's leaning on the counter and |
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