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John Ringo: Claws That Catch

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John Ringo Claws That Catch

Claws That Catch: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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It's Not Over Til The Skinny Lady Sings… Working off of a piece of intelligence from the alien Hexosehr, the is dispatched to investigate rumors of an ancient and powerful civilization that may have been the creators of the “black box” that drives humanity's only space ship. Any remnant technology would be nice but what the finds is much more than they bargained for. Worse, the ship is infested by an alien species of scorpion-like arachnoids that has the potential to wipe out a world. Worst of all, instead of being Astrogator, Captain William Weaver is now the XO and he is getting along with the new commander. And the new commander does not get along with Weaver, the ship's female savant-linguist or most of the rest of the original crew. And what that weird noise the ship makes every time it's in hard maneuvers? Leave it to the oddball geniuses of the to sort it all out. And the Dreen are going to like the answers.

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The bride and groom were circulating and being congratulated. Weaver had been watching one of the bridesmaids, a particularly pulchritudinous example of womanflesh, and hadn’t noticed Berg and his bride getting closer and closer. As he glanced over, though, he caught a flash of Two-Gun looking their way and it was obvious he was unwilling to approach with the CAO there.

The next time Berg looked up, Weaver caught his eye and gestured with his head for him to come over. Berg’s glance at the CAO was clear so Weaver repeated the gesture.

“Sir, Two-Gun has faced some of the worst monsters in the Galaxy,” Weaver said as the bride and groom approached. “He can face the Chief of Astronautic Operations.”

“Admiral Townsend,” Berg said, nodding formally at the CAO, “may I present my bride, Mrs. Eric Bergstresser.”

“Of course, Lieutenant,” the CAO said, taking Brooke’s hand and bowing to kiss it formally. “Mrs. Bergstresser, you are a vision. It is said that every bride is beautiful but you exceed all expectations.”

“Thank you, sir,” Brooke said, blushing.

“I know that you feel you’ve picked the finest man on earth to marry,” the admiral continued. “And I agree. Sometime, sometime quite soon, you will be finding out just how extraordinary this young man is.”

“Does that mean that his missions won’t be…” Brooke’s forehead furrowed for a moment then she shrugged. “I think the term is ‘black’? Eric won’t really talk about what he does.”

“He can’t,” the CAO said, nodding. “I’m sorry for that but that’s the rule and I’m glad to hear that he’s following it. But, yes, pretty soon the operation will go white. How soon, I’m not at liberty to divulge.”

Weaver’s ears perked up at that. One bit of information that the CAO clearly had, and Bill did not, was that the decision to go white had been made and there was timing on it.

“But when it does, all will become clear,” the admiral continued. “Including what an extraordinary man you’ve married.”

“I already know he’s extraordinary, sir,” Brooke said. “But thank you.”

“Two-Gun,” the admiral said, “you’ve got a week. Use it well.”

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, nodding. “Can I get a hint?”

“We’re becoming archaelogists,” Weaver replied. “I think that’s indirect enough, isn’t it, sir?”

“Just fine,” the CAO said. “Archaeological mission, Lieutenant. Should be routine.”

“Our normal routine, sir?” Berg asked, trying not to grin. “Or ‘routine’ routine?”

“Routine routine,” the CAO answered. “But we never know, do we?”

“No, sir, we don’t,” Eric admitted. “And, Brooke, this is Commander Weaver. I told you about him.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir,” Brooke said, looking him up and down. “You don’t look like… what I expected.”

The CAO barked a laugh at that and shook his head.

“People tend to say that,” Bill replied. “They generally expect someone older and with less hair. And, please, call me Bill.”

“Actually, I was wondering that you’re not ten feet tall and breathing fire,” Brooke corrected, grinning. “Bill.”

“In that case, Eric has been exaggerating,” Weaver said. “I have to add my compliments to the admiral’s. You are truly stunning. Eric is a very lucky guy.”

“That I am, sir,” Berg said.

“What are your plans?” the CAO asked. “And to be clear, I’m referring to after the honeymoon.”

“I’ve secured off-post quarters, sir,” Eric replied. “Brooke will be occupying those and intends to apply for college.”

“Well, it’ll be easier to survive on lieutenant’s pay, that’s for sure,” Townsend said. His aide whispered in his ear for a moment, then handed over a message form. The admiral read it, his expression unchanging, then looked up and smiled. “I hope you both do well. The captain and I, however, have a previous appointment.”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” Berg said, tugging at Brooke’s arm. “Thank you for coming.”

“Get Admiral Blankemeier and General Holberg,” Townsend said to his aide. “I’ll take Captain Weaver in lieu of Captain Prael. Is transportation laid on?”

“Yes, sir,” the Navy captain said.

“Let’s do this.”

“May I ask what my previously scheduled event is, sir?” Bill asked quietly.

“We have to go to Camp David,” the CAO said. “There’s a meeting there in the morning. It seems the Russians and the Chinese are aware of the Blade.”


“Who is the girl with the blue hair?” Brooke asked, gesturing with her chin to a girl in a skimpy black dress dancing with a tall, incredibly stiff Marine. The girl looked to be in her early twenties and had bright red hair with a shock of blue dye at the front. “Is that a girlfriend I should know about?”

“We went out clubbing, once,” Eric replied. “But girlfriend would be stretching it. She’s a linguist, a really good one. Sort of a savant.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” Brooke admitted.

Eric thought of the linguist in the Cavern of the Dragons, stretching out her hand and directing the opening of the gates. Nobody had been able to figure out the puzzle, but it was as if the linguist was God-touched in some way. She certainly was strange enough.

“I’m not sure I can explain it, either,” Eric admitted. “But she’s special. Not retarded special, the other way. Gifted. Almost scary sometimes. We work with a lot of top-flight people but Miriam’s…”

“I can see you like her,” Brooke said, tightly.

“Not that way,” Berg replied, grinning at her. “She’s way too weird for me. But, yeah, I like her and admire her. Same deal with the guy she’s dancing with. Sergeant Lyle. We call him Lurch cause he’s so messed up. And tall.”

“That’s not very nice,” Brooke said.

“Worse than you think,” Eric said. “He got that way in a roll-over. Spent most of a year in therapy then nearly as much time convincing the Marines to let him back on active. Then he went back through Force Recon Qual and operator training to get in the line units. Gotta admire that much determination. Good operator.”

“And that means what?” Brooke asked. “For that matter, what are quarters? You said something about ‘securing quarters.’ I figure you don’t mean the coins…”

“Quarters are where you live,” Berg said, pulling Brooke towards the twosome. “Securing off-post quarters meant I got us an apartment.”

“Why not just say you got an apartment?” Brooke asked curiously.

“It was the CAO,” Berg replied. “That’s how we talk. You’ll get used to it.”

“Two-Gun,” the tall sergeant said. “And his lovely wife. Do I get a kiss?”

“Of course,” Brooke said, lifting up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He still had to bend over. The sergeant was tall and thin as a rail but with a wiry toughness that was apparent even in formal attire. “You’re Mr. Lyle?”

“Sergeant Lyle,” the sergeant said. “But you can call me Lurch.”

“And this is Miss Moon,” Berg continued, gesturing to Miriam.

“Miriam,” the linguist said, shaking Brooke’s hand then giving her a hug. “I’m so glad you two are together. You seem so right for each other. You’re staying in Newport?”

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