[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
DeChance frowned slightly. 'I can try.'
She moved slowly over to the sphere, and knelt down before it. She studied it carefully from all angles,
careful not to touch it. The sphere was about six inches in diameter, and had a cold, pearly sheen.
DeChance reached out with her mind, and gently touched the sphere with her esp.
The sun, burning bright and foul in the shimmering sky. Buildings tower to every side. Something dark
and awful close behind and all around. Bones stretch and twist. Flesh flows across twitching cheekbones.
Eyes turn to liquid and run away. Creatures leaping and hopping everywhere, sliding and melting into
each other. The scream goes on and on and on ...
DeChance jerked her mind free from the endless flow of images. She fell backwards, her mouth
working, and when Lindholm reached out a hand to steady her, she struck out at him blindly. He knelt
down beside her and spoke in a slow and soothing voice until finally the wordless panic died away, and
she could think again. She drew in a long, shuddering breath, and licked her dry lips.
'What happened?' asked Lindholm.
'The sphere,' said DeChance hoarsely. 'It's a recording of some kind. A direct recording of an alien
mind.'
'What did you see?' asked Corbie.
DeChance shook her head slowly. 'Madness. Horror and violence ... I don't know. I'll have to think
about it. In the meantime, don't either of you try and touch it. It's too easy to get lost in there ..."
She got to her feet, turned her back on the sphere and the marines, and started to rummage through her
backpack. Corbie and Lindholm looked at each other. Lindholm shrugged, and left through the open
doorway. Corbie hesitated and then followed him out.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Planting the proximity mines took the marines a lot longer than they'd thought. The ground was rock
hard, and yielded only grudgingly to their digging tools. Both men were sweating by the time they'd
established a perimeter, and most of the light had disappeared from the sky. The golden lanternlight that
fell through the monolith's doorway looked warm and inviting. The two marines went back inside, rubbing
at the fresh callouses on their hands, and helped DeChance finish setting up the portable force-Screen
generator. She activated it, and all three relaxed a little as some of the day's tension went out of them.
They laid out their bedrolls, and pecked unenthusiastically at a late supper of protein cubes and distilled
water. Finally, they lay back on their bedrolls and waited for morning to come.
None of them felt much like sleeping, but they knew they ought to at least try. Come the next day, they'd
need all the strength and stamina they could find. The Captain had sounded calm and reassuring when
he'd contacted them just after their supper, and DeChance had done her best to sound the same. Corbie
had thought seriously about breaking into the conversation, and saying how worried he was about the
monolith and the sphere recording, but in the end he decided against it. The Captain wouldn't have
understood. Maybe when they reached the city tomorrow . . . Corbie had a really bad feeling about the
city.
Surprisingly enough, the esper fell asleep almost immediately. Lindholm lay on his back with his eyes
closed, looking as calm and unperturbed as ever. Corbie glared at them impartially. He'd never felt less
sleepy in his life. He gave it a while, just in case, and then sat up quietly and hugged his knees to his chest.
He'd hoped the monolith would seem less imposing once he'd spent some time in it, but it hadn't worked
out that way. The ceiling was too high, the light from the lantern couldn't penetrate the corners, and even
the smallest sound seemed to echo endlessly. He drew his disrupter from its holster and checked the
energy level. It was reassuringly high, but, even so, it took a real effort of will power before Corbie could
make himself holster the gun again.
'Getting jumpy, Russ?'
Corbie looked round quickly. Lindholm was sitting up on his bedroll too. Corbie smiled and shrugged. 'I
don't like this place, Sven,' he said softly, keeping his voice low to avoid waking the esper. 'Mind you,
when you get right down to it I'd be hard pressed to name one thing about this stinking planet that I do
like. I hate it here, Sven.' He rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand, and wasn't surprised to find
his hand was shaking. 'I'm dry, Sven. I need a drink. I could cope with all of this much better if I could
just have one good stiff drink.'
'Sorry, Russ. Don't use the stuff myself. You should have smuggled a bottle on to the pinnace.'
'I did. They found it.' Corbie shuddered quickly. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his face, despite
the cold. 'I hate this world, Sven. I don't want to be here. It doesn't want us here. I mean, what am I
doing in a Hell Squad? I was never meant to be a colonist. I've been in the Fleet since I was sixteen
never spent more than two years running on the same planet. I liked it that way. The only reason I'm here
is because it looked a better bet than spending the rest of my life rotting in a military prison. Shows you
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]