Prohibition of Interference. Book 6. Samurai Code. Макс Глебов
I had relied only on my own hearing, even if it were unique, I would not have been able to make out anything in the cacophony of cries of local animals, who were wildly enjoying life and eating each other in the crown of bushes and trees, but I managed to see something from the top of the hill, even without resorting to Letra.
A fairly wide and calm river with heavily overgrown banks flowed along the bottom of the narrow valley that opened to our eyes. The crowns of the trees almost closed over the water, but in some places there were gaps.
“Left bank, three and a half kilometers, a glade in the bushes.”
The sun was high and shining in our backs, so we could not be afraid of the glare of the optics, and Lena brought binoculars to her eyes.
“Three people. It looks like they are Japanese. They came out to look around, too. Arisaka-38 rifle, Type 99 machine gun… what the hell is that?” Lena held out her binoculars to me, but I just shook my head in the negative.
“Type 100 submachine gun. This is an exotic weapon. Hardly ever used by the regular army, but it has been produced in small batches for over a year.”
“They seem to be serious guys,” said Nikiforov softly.
“There are at least three dozen of them, and this is not the only unit.”
“Korff, don't you think these Chinese planes turned out to be a little too tough and mean?”
“There aren't many of them left,” his deputy armament officer shrugged.
“But the Japanese lost almost two hundred fighters. Four to one!”
“When machines of different technological generations meet in battle, it can be even worse.”
“The question is, where did they come from?” the destroyer commander asked with irritation. “Something tells me that it was the infected people from the base on the satellite who gave the natives some of our technology. Computer, I need an estimate of the likelihood of interference.”
“My knowledge base does not have an algorithm for analyzing such situations. This requires a specialized neural network package. Only scientific stations in star systems belonging to underdeveloped civilizations are equipped with such a package.”
“So these people, on the satellite, have such a package?”
“It should be there, but only if the base's central computer survived.”
“So you can't tell if they passed on technology to the natives?”
“I can't, but the legal database has a set of instructions for science bases like this one. They are forbidden to interfere with the development of the civilizations they study.”
“Can't you see what's going on? They're infected! They don't give a damn about any instructions!”
“I have no data or algorithms to answer your question and assess the credibility of your claims. This is beyond the scope of my functional purpose.”
“You're just a brainless piece of iron,” said Hirch, cooling down a bit.
“Commander, permission…”
“I'm listening,” the Lieutenant Commander turned his gaze to the chief of engineering.
“It seems to me that it is not only and not so much about the technical characteristics of these planes, it's more about who is directing the pilots' actions and pointing them at the targets. Our computer, of course, cannot answer every question, but if we move sequentially and don't overload it with too complex tasks, that require creativity, it can be very useful.”
“Can you get to the point, Lieutenant?”
“The introductory part is over, Commander. So, I did an analysis of the Chinese pilots' actions in the night battle with Japanese ships, and the result was very interesting. First, these machines are not equipped with radars, which means they simply couldn't find aircraft carriers and destroyers in the night sea. No way! This led me to believe that our opponents were transmitting some kind of information to the wild infected people after all, and that they were supporting Japan's opponents.”
“Let us assume that this is true,” Hirch nodded, “go on.”
“And then I tried to figure out if the textual "advice from orbit" could have helped the Chinese pilots to sink an aircraft carrier and one of the destroyers? And the answer was unequivocal: they could not! In this way it is possible to bring the air group to the target, but how can you help pilots at night to hit a ship that is maneuvering intensely, with active anti-aircraft artillery and aviation opposition, with unguided bombs? The answer is, in fact, very simple. This can only be done by a person who is in the cockpit of the lead bomber and has the ability to use all the scanning, positioning and targeting technology provided by the satellite constellation.”
There was silence in the destroyer's command post. Hirch stared at the chief of engineering for a while in silence, then grinned and rose from his chair.
“Are you saying that some of the science base personnel are operating on the surface of the planet?”
“I have no other explanation for what we saw, and the further behavior of the Chinese pilots speaks in favor of this version.”
Hirch understood from the engineer's voice and facial expression that he was sincerely convinced of the correctness of his conclusions.
“One of their planes, the one leading the night attack, sustained significant damage and could not keep up with the speed of the entire group. Military expediency required them to leave the damaged plane and everyone else to leave at top speed. At the very least, they could provide one or two fighters to escort the comrade in distress to the Chinese coast. What did they do? They did exactly the opposite! They sent only the planes that had minor damage to the airfield, while the rest of the group remained to guard that plane, barely flying. Not only that, but fifty more fighter-bombers soon arrived to help them! Then, without any hesitation, they engaged the Japanese, who outnumbered them three to one and stubbornly defended the stretch of shore over which the pilot of that damaged plane had catapulted. By the way, it was he who dropped the first two bombs on the Zuikaku, directing the rest of the group to the target.”
“It's very interesting…” Hirch put his hands behind his back and took a few steps, looking thoughtfully at the holographic projection of the Pacific region of the planet, “And where is he now?”
“A group of paratroopers, landing from a transport plane, arrived for the pilots shot down in the air combat. They found some surviving pilots and are now moving through the rugged terrain deep into the continent. Their speed is slow as they have three wounded men.”
“Did they find our main man?”
“They probably did, or they'd still be scouring the coast. It's probably one of the wounded they're carrying on a stretcher.”
“I suppose the Japanese will be very interested to know that they still have a chance to get at the culprit of their latest trouble,” grinned Hirch, “and we'll watch. If he really is an infected person from the science base, he won't let them gobble him, but he will be forced to give himself away. Your version seems interesting to me, Lieutenant, except that without checking it out again, I'm not going to risk people; there are too few of us as it is. But if your assumptions are confirmed, we need to bring this infected man to our ship for a visit and talk to him, with all the necessary precautions, about what happened here, and why the cruiser Admiral Kuhn is now sadly circling around the satellite of this wretched planet in the form of space junk. I think he knows a lot about what anti-space defense systems are preserved on the satellite, and whether or not there are any combat-ready ships there.”
“Will there be work for us, too?” said the commander of the landing party nonchalantly. “ And I wondered how it was that the exercise scenario did not include tasks for my men. We ride as passengers and go crazy with boredom in endless training…”
“Prepare the landing craft, Lieutenant Cree. Checking the truth of the assumptions made is necessary, but I'm pretty sure our