In the same second in the right bottom corner of the screen there were two more light points. The dispatcher nervously-is
chilly poter palms.
- Thanks, Turnen, - he has murmured.
Two light points - emergency robots - crept on the screen. The distance between them and nuclear perestarkom gradually
The dispatcher looked on creeping between accurate lines of a grid a flickering point and thought that strange planetolet
just about will enter into the second zone where space hangars and filling stations are densely located; that on one of these
stations the daughter works; that the mirror of the Main reflector of an extraterrestrial observatory is broken; that this ship
moves as if blindly and signals it whether does not hear, whether does not understand; that every second he risks to be lost,
vrezavshis in one of numerous heavy designs or having got to starting zone D-kosmoletov. He thought that will stop
senseless movement of this ship very difficultly because it wildly and randomly changes speed and robots can ram it though
robots Turnen operates, probably...
- Station Delta, - the assistant has told. - I give the maximum increase.
Again on the black screen there was an image of a clumsy bulk nuclear planetoleta. Plasma flashes under its dome
became rough, spasmodic, and it seemed that this huge monster convulsively touches black thick feet. Nearby there were
vague outlines of emergency robots. They came nearer cautiously, jumping aside at each jerk of a nuclear missile.
The dispatcher and the assistant looked in all eyes. The dispatcher, having extended a neck to the full, whispered: - Well,
Turnen... Well... Well, smart guy... Well...
Robots moved quickly and confidently. Tenacious titanic feelers from two parties were stretched to a nuclear missile and
have seized the spread wide columns-columns. One of feelers has missed, has got under a dome and has scattered in a dust
under plasma blow ("Ah!" - the assistant) in a whisper has told.
Whence the third robot from above has fallen down and has seized a dome the spread wide brilliant manipulators. The
nuclear missile has slowly gone downwards. The flickering light under its dome suddenly has gone out.
- F-faugh... - the dispatcher has murmured and has wiped the person a dressing gown sleeve.
The assistant has nervously burst out laughing.
- As squids - a whale, - he (once he worked in Ocean protection) has told. - And where it now? The dispatcher has asked
in a microphone: - Turnen where you conduct it? - I conduct it on ours raketodrom, - Turnen slowly has told.
It was felt that he slightly chokes. The dispatcher suddenly has clearly imagined its round person shining with sweat shined
with the screen.