The Nuclear Fortress, page 3
However, Uksun-Boo is sealed in his hypersonic capsule reliably and consequently he is protected. He is like hero Odysseus who was tied to the mast but in contrast to Odysseus with a kind of wax in his ears: he should not be afraid of any Sirens. However, there is nothing known about the Odysseus story on this planet. The local civilization is castrated in many senses of the word.
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7.
Besides the knowledge of his military profession as well as other useful things helping in everyday life, Byuros-Ut has his own convictions. For example, he is absolutely sure that his Motherland – the Kingdom of Noyui – is unconditionally the best country of the world. He knows as well that the people living in the Kingdom are the wisest among all the nations on the World Sphere. And as a matter of fact his Noyui should have been called not a Kingdom but an Empire for a long time already. And really “The Noyui Empire” sounds much more important. Certainly there is an empire itself lacking still. In the sense that the area occupied by Noyui is not too big. In this case even the disputable territories on the equatorial eastern tip of the Great Dry Land are not too much help. That is, if the disputes are settled in favour of Noyui, even then there won't be much land in the sense of an empire.
But why – let the World Light shine with new brilliance! – are Byuros-Ut and his friends cutting the atmospheric grayness with their propellers now? If they are successful, it will be possible to corner the biggest malignant tumor of the continent – the Empire of the Northerners. And then Noyui will get not only the disputable lands of Korpytomus, but may be something else as well. Really, after the plan is fulfilled, the whole Temporary Defense Union will understand that Noyui's role does not come down to just ordinary membership. Any union of states should have its leader. Why should not Noyui become such a leader? After all, after making the Northern Empire capitulate, it will be fairly justified to make it let in military missions and even inspectorates to its borderline territories. And who if not the state of Noyui can aspire to send inspectorates and even... Let the World Light pulsate always!.. Why should not they enter the limited contingent of Armed Forces to some provinces of the Northern Empire? For it, if something crops up, to support the missions' demands for demilitarization of borderline regions with force.
On the whole radioman-machine-gunner Byuros-Ut was really convinced in the advantages of his people as well as in the fact that their role in history is belittled and is not taken into account as it should be. One thing bothered him. Byuros-Ut was not just a radioman on board and even more so not a manager of the tail machine-gun, but a more highly qualified radioman. He was after all a spy radioman of the second level and that means something. Well, certainly any spy radioman must know foreign languages. And it was here that the controversy cropped up. The knowledge of alien languages delivered a serious blow to the system of convictions and values. Access authorization to listening to enemy and union talking when they went on air created a strange feeling of déjá vu. The matter is that judging by “enemy voices”, each state on the only continent of the World Sphere considered its people to be the best of the best. Certainly it was easily explained. Any government surely could not admit its incompetence and being some kind of impostor as to the leadership, so it tried to pamper and win over its population trying to convince them in their uniqueness. One has not only to beat those you rule over but to pat them on their backs as well, at least from time to time. However, there was some unpleasant aftertaste left. It is perfectly clear that Byuros-Ut did not tell anyone about his doubts. What can one say to oak-breakers from the counter-intelligence who are called “overseers over the inside” by the Army men?
On the whole, when watching life, Byuros-Ut understood that nearly all spy radiomen sooner or later were taken an interest in by the “overseers”. After that their lives could go on in different ways. Some returned from the interviews, others departed in some unknown direction so quickly that they even forgot to take their personal belongings from the hostel. However, some messengers took all their belongings to the same unknown lands very soon. But it could be some sudden moving up through the ranks, couldn't it? After all, radio spying is a secret business. One cannot rule out that radiomen were not arrested, like some panic-mongers whispered, but were just appointed to some high spheres. They could be suddenly appointed to the Court Ministry of Foreign Affairs, couldn't they? Who knows?
Byuros-Ut himself did not strive for the unknown spheres of the court. Besides, he really liked to fly. In his time he even tried to become a pilot but he did not have some natural talents, some “necessary thing” known exclusively to pilots. He managed to deceive his fate and come from the other side. The Kingdom required spy radiomen as well. He just had to study the radio equipment in addition to his main skill – fluent knowledge of foreign languages and quick translation of the spoken language and radio interceptions. Good memory was an assess here, because of that Byuros-Ut very quickly learned to dismantle, unsolder and then do everything in the reverse order with the “Coo-Coo” tube radio set, and do it nearly blind. The soldering iron even became his favourite tool for some time, besides the radio key. He learned to use both with his right and left hands.
Byuros-Ut was happy at the time when he was transferred from the Reconnaissance and Attack Air Force to the Bomb-Carrier Air Force. However, he did not show his joy or said anything aloud because some guys would not understand him. This re-appointment transferred him to some other category. To the lower one in comparison with his previous spying flights. Radioman's duties became his main functions now. Besides, he became a shooter employed at defense arms. “Machine-gunner” is a much lower rank than “interpreter”. Especially if he is close to the court. Well, in the sense that if it is at all possible to get up to the court ambassadors' heavenly clouds and be attached to some attaché as an interpreter, it is much more probable to do that from spy radiomen than radiomen-machine-gunners.
But Byuros-Ut did not grieve at all. It was now that he found himself much closer to his unfulfilled dream – to become a flier. And if he flew the Dsungaripterus at first — the aircraft of the main command post for controlling attack aircrafts, which tried to keep a considerable distance from the fight scene, now he found himself in the cabin of a heavy bomb-carrier. And of unique type at that. Surely this must be the reason why they required not just a radioman-machine-gunner here but a spy radioman and a machine-gunner to add. So now Byuros-Ut does not just have a radio key under his hand but a multi-position control knob for the machine-gun in the rear hemisphere to aim at targets from a distance.
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8.
Well, here it... Everything changed radically! Massaraksh and massaraksh again! We'll turn the World Sphere inside out as they say, and then inside out again to have a full circle. Because everything really came back.
What – let the World Light never fade! — ballistic missiles? What Ex-Dukes' bomb-carriers? What are we speaking about? If the Empire has built its MDC — Missile Destruction Center, its anti-missile shield.
Now, no matter how much you fire there, all the ”things” are caught on the way. Really, those damn toddlers have even made their NI! Non-Nuclear Interception! They can bring down any bomb-carrier, missile, fighter dirigible. And there will be only blots of unused fuel in the skies — “squelch-squelch”. So, you cannot touch the Empire even with your finger – it will cut all the fingers in a flash. And they even managed to cover this Missile Destruction Center in such a way that no commandos can get to it. Automatic machine-guns, self-sighting mines, walking automatic fire-throwers. What commando group? Even if an army is sent there, with heavy tanks, from the sea – it well serve as a human and iron fertilizer for the local area and will not get even one kilometer closer.
In short the situation is stalemate. In the sense that they are back to where they started. Now the northern monster again got a chance to grab the territories not entered into the books like it did before. It is certainly possible to argue, to compete in strength and power. To effect some tactical nuclear strikes in these provinces. To play so to say billiard on the side with nuclear trifles. But it won't be possible to do any damage to the metropolis of the Empire any more.
Well, it certainly did start. The new colonizing boom! Everyone is grabbing and dividing the white spots of the continent. Someone found some islets in the ocean. What's the use of them if there is no place for even one foot? Sometimes when the times are nervous they are fighting with penknives. In the sense of nuclear charges of reduced power. Naturally, in order not to provoke. The Northerners really have their Missile Destruction Center and the rest — even the Temporary Union as a whole – are so to say empty-handed. Sweet fuck all! In short, they had to do something. But what?
And then Uncle Darest appeared on the carpets in the offices of the humble Kingdom of Noyui. Actually he dived out not in the royal bedroom but in the joint stock company “Defense and Attack Society”, or DAS.
9.
A bomb-carrier of the Princess Crado type is not “trali-vali, dili-dili”. It may have less propellers than the Pterodactyl, but is this the essence of the matter? Certainly, the Pterodactyl has four propellers – four on each wing, and here one cannot either sit or stand from surprise. But what can one do? That's a world class achievement, no matter what you say. Each fan is nearly four meters long: it shakes up the atmosphere like a hurricane. It's clear, massaraksh, that it's not so great on the Princess Cardo, but its waist is really impressive! Hue and cry! The width of the hull in the central part is more than ten meters. What Pterodactyl can be so wide-spread? That's it.
Certainly – let the World Light shine with new power! — such an obvious waist is not becoming to all girls. Because of that the Princess was nearly renamed the Turtle in the beginning. But it seems that the clever guys, who are sometimes found among representatives of special services, suspecting everything and everyone, figured out everything in advance. The Turtle is the name attracting too much attention. If it starts appearing in reports, the Northerners from the Empire will get wind of it in no time. And the Princess will somehow shove its way through among all the other Queens.
Sure thing, seeing the Princess Cardo for the first time not everyone will fall in love with it. This hunchback, this damn thickened part does not add beauty. One would like to complain, but here come the guys with a secret notebook, “Please, sign, sweetheart, that you will never and nowhere, even if you are tortured, tell anyone about the Princess's hump and, excuse me, waist.” Well, you jot down your name, and now you only have to digest all that yourself.
And what can you do? You are an Army man. You should not worry a lot – there is no one to laugh at you. The bomb-carrier squadron is a top secret one. The parade to honour the Coronation – no Princess. So who will know that you fly such a monster under the zinc sky? Those who know are all here – here you are! They are sitting in their chairs close-by, looking at you out of the corners of their eyes above their oxygen masks. And what? Everything is orderly and properly. All are crowded in one cabin like cucumbers in one jar. The situation is different in various Pterodactyls: pilots are here, navigators are somewhere farther by the big table, machine-gunners are put massaraksh knows where. There are two of them in the bottom part. And per one more in the end of each wing. Who could have thought that they will install machine-guns even there? Poor guys go crazy alone, especially when a wing is swinging if the propellers are not neatly balanced. And they have two fighter aircraft pilots drinking tea as well because they only get to the cabins of their hawks when it becomes really hot. Like when some plague of enemies attacks in such a way that it becomes simply unbearable. Well, they really have a crowd there. In the sense they do not have crowded space. They have enough space inside even to play tennis.
But in the Princess Cardo, here – yeah! All the personnel is present – the crew of the fighting machine, of this not rightly named Turtle, everyone is here. Because there is an instruction. Massaraksh it twice! And it is as if they care for your health. For the crew, sure thing, certainly not the cockroaches that are somewhere down there, bustling twelve thousand meters below, when a barrel with wings and napalm inside dives at them from above. And the crew is taken care of – yeah. There is no need for them to suffer from radiation sickness later because of various radiation present. It's clear, massaraksh, that they are not protecting them from all radiation. They are not protected from the one coming from the World Light or from some badly deactivated soil below. But medics care for the crew of the Princess not to get leukaemia from their own engine.
Well, yeah, that's it! The heart – this fiery engine of the Princess Cardo – is not working on some bad-smelling benzene or kerosene. It, understand correctly, is a small compact nuclear reactor. It's real, no fooling! Because of that there is this hump with this waist. It did not get into the usual, regular bomb-career fuselage.
Surely this thickening is the reason of a slightly worse maneuverability of the Princess. Though its six propellers can turn from twenty to thirty years in a row. The bearings will wear out, but the propellers will continue puffing, cutting the atmospheric weightlessness without showing any tiredness. Nuclear power is, brothers Noyuians, is really some force!
However, they had to send the whole crew to the lead coated capsule. And what could one do? Now they all are in a crowded room, but the more the merrier. All of them are in one flask, pilots, navigators, radiomen and machine-gunners. All see nothing similarly. In the sense that there are neither portholes, nor glass windows for anyone. The whole world is exclusively through TV screens. And black-and-white by the way. As a matter of fact, even colour-blind persons can serve in the Princess Cardo. It seems there are no such persons among those present anyway. Though there is one expert in reactors in the crew. He is sitting modestly, wondering at something in his scales. He is a serious man, wearing spectacles, he answers to the name of Gyura-Zi. His facial expression is like a stone and cannot be more like a stone: where did they find him? No matter how you watch him, you will probably never guess when this reactor on board will start breaking up. Fine, let's hope that it will manage somehow, at least till the end of the flight.
This flight is not just a flight. Not just a mission. Like to fly, to experiment. Now a part of the route will be above the Northern Empire. And it is most welcome that the Princess has its reactor. Imperial fighter aircrafts may fire as much as they like, and the fuel on board will not light up – there is just none of it here. And the crew! If you do not know definitely, you will never guess in which part of the fuselage they are accommodated: the cabin lamp is absent.
On the whole, a nuclear bomb-carrier is a real power. And what if the Empirians knew how many various nuclear things and of what power are stacked in it besides the reactor? They would commit suicide all at once even before it flew up to their territory.
One would like this to happen very much. At least the crews of antiaircraft guns Then it would become much easier and comfortable to free the fat belly of the Princess Cardo from the nuclear goods. But according to the plan, someone is, it seems, to take care of the hindering influences of the detection stations below. One wants to believe that these efficient guys will manage to do something. Otherwise...
One is so unwilling to bullet into the Empire like a corkscrew, on that awkward, fat bitch. Oh, the World Light! Be a good soul, save us from this shame.
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10.
There were rumours later that Uncle Darest-Khi, when he came to His Majesty's General Staff Headquarters for the first time, tramped along the carpets, kicked the massive door open with his shoe on the way, moved the adjunct-secretary aside, waved “At ease!” to the man on duty with his battle-ax, went to the blackboard, watched by stupefied Generals, took the chalk from the Colonel from the financial department, who was rubbing his hand and trying to calculate how many towers on the Grokhotun dreadnought they will have to refuse from because of introduction of the new field uniform, and at once, right off the bat drew the chart for destroying the Northern Empire with the minimum of men, equipment and brain resources of the Generals. And then, as they say, the old, weak-sighted Marshal of the Nuclear and Grenadier Forces Jyaryn-Cha was so moved, that he shed a few tears and at once appointed him the senior politologist-counselor of the visiting equestrian session of the mine-nuclear-blasting service. It seems that he said, “Well, glory to the World Light! I did manage to live up to the day when they finally gave birth to a worthy of consideration plan in these Staff Headquarters.”
Certainly it was not so moving in reality and not so quick. Uncle Darest-Khi was not called Uncle at the time yet. The nickname stuck to him later, and it is not clear why. According to rumours, Attaché-Duke Ran-Ne called him like that. He called him while walking along the corridor. Something like, “Well, Uncle, why are you hanging about here without a uniform?” But more likely it was also a legend in its finest, which attached to Darest-Khi post factum.
As for Byuros-Ut, who is a radioman-machine-gunner at present and was a child then capable to walk under a table, distinguished and eminent now Darest-Khi is really an Uncle. Just an Uncle. His Mother's brother. They even played “drown the ship from dry land” and “tank chess” with this “just Uncle” a couple or three times. It was very interesting to play with “just Uncle” Darest because he never tried to give in and suffered horribly when he was unlucky with toy bricks, or it came down to the “final adjustment of tank-kings”.
According to rumours, cruising only inside the Byuros-Ut's family, his Uncle's career was not so cloudless and quick. Certainly, speaking to each other when Uncle was not present, both Byuros's Father and even his Mother, the Uncle's sister, called Darest a bad word “careerist”. They gossiped about him in the way that he will “hang himself for getting acquainted with this man and that”. And in general he is ready “to sell his Mother, sister and nephew and all the rest to the rack in order to...”. Little Byuros certainly did not want to be sold to some rack together with the rest, because of that he did not strive very much to stay alone with his Uncle coming for dinner. It is possible that this mania was the reason for missing several wonderful “tank chess” games or even battles with paper ship in the bathroom. But those were certainly personal and family matters.
