"Axler, James - Deathlands 050 - Pandora's Reboubt - Nick Pollotta" - читать интересную книгу автора (Axler James)

"Not by much," Ryan stated grimly.
Krysty looked at the speedometer. "Can't we get any more speed?"
Weaving around rocks and gullies, Ryan checked the console. "We're at the red line."
Krysty glanced in a mirror. The black shape was closer and bigger. "It's not enough."
"I know."
His face pressed hard against the cushioned eyepiece of the periscope, finger lying next to the launch button of the missile pod, J.B. worked the focus and there it was, just as Mildred had described the thing. A squat angular box covered with antennae and with a single, front-mounted cannon. He couldn't ID the caliber of the gun, but it sure didn't seem big enough to damage anything armored like the Leviathan.
"Hey!" Mildred cried. "Its muzzle just glowed in a rainbow pattern."
"Rainbow?" Dean repeated.
"Yes," Mildred said, clearly puzzled. "No explosions or missile launched. Just some pretty colors. There it goes again!"
Handing Krysty a shell from the bin, Jak scowled.
"Colors?"
"Brace for impact!" Ryan yelled, twisting the steering wheel hard. Everybody not buckled in was thrown from their seats, and supplies scattered as the ground alongside the Leviathan violently exploded. The armored craft rocked from the concussion.
"It has a laser," Doc gasped, unable to believe his eyes. "The rainbow was the spectrum effect."
J.B scowled. "Laser? Then what exploded?"
"Nothing. That was a thermal cloud from the vaporized sand, or so I would guess," Doc replied.
"Vaporized!"
"Yes."
"Hole's big as a bathtub," Krysty added.
"Laser, schmazer," J.B. said, and he pressed the trigger hard as if he were thrusting a knife into the vitals of a living enemy.
In the sideview mirror, Ryan spied a rustling firebird leap from the rear missile pod to streak away and impact on the turret of the tank with a thunderclap. A fireball blossomed over the machine, obliterating it from view.
"Bull's-eye!" J.B. yelled.
"Hold on," Ryan told him, and he pulled in the choke on the engines. Hooded with fuel, the military diesels revved madly, the console gauge needle going off the scale as the twin 1,250 horse power plants shoved the front wheels of the tank off the ground in its haste to depart.
"Why the rush?" Doc asked, sitting in his seat and calmly crossing his legs. "John Barrymore delivered a mortal blow."
Dean agreed. "We should stop and loot the wreckage."
Concentrating on his driving, Ryan made no reply. As his grinning friends watched, out of the crackling inferno of the blast rolled the ebony tank completely undamaged.
"Dark night, it isn't scratched," J.B. whispered. He took a step from the periscope and almost tripped over a box of spare parts on the floor.
"Rainbow again!" Krysty shouted, and another blast rocked their vehicle.
Ignoring the fight around her, Mildred sat quietly in her chair, studying her watch and counting.
"J.B., launch another missile!" Ryan snapped. "Mebbe it'll work this time! Aim for the laser itself!"
"He can't," Krysty said from the front seat. "The whole control board just went dead. Our rear pod is gone."
"What about the front pod?"
"It can't shoot backward. You want to turn around?"
"Hell, no!"
"My turn," J.B. snapped, cranking the wheel to traverse the rear Vulcan 40 mm cannon. "Jak, Mildred, load me with AP and keep them coming."
"That won't work on a tank," Doc reminded him.
"You got a better plan?"
"Yes, I do." Doc stood, swaying to the motions. of the racing vehicle and went to rummage in the wall locker, tossing out ammo boxes and grens as if they were rubbish.
"I saw the empty cases in the garage," he grunted. "So they must be here. They must! They couldn't have used them all against each other."
Ryan watched cut of the corner of his vision. He had no idea what the old man was planning and fervently hoped he wasn't off again on a daydream trip to the good old days.
"Twenty-two!" Mildred cried, staring at her watch in triumph. "Yes!"
"What?" Ryan demanded, swerving past the remains of a stone fence. A plastic sign was still in place' but any words had long been abraded off by the windblown sands.
The physician tapped her wrist. "The laser only fires once every twenty-two seconds. I've been timing it."
"Must have to recharge between shots," Krysty said. "Probably why we're still here."
"Mildred, tell me every twenty-one seconds," Ryan ordered.
"Done." She intently studied her watch. "Now!"
Ryan savagely threw the Leviathan to the left. There was no explosion.
"A miss!" J.B. yelled. "It works! You're a genius, Millie."
"This only buys us time," Ryan reminded them. "And not much of that."
"Found it!" Doc cried out in delight, reappearing with a squat tube sealed at both ends and covered with writing. "Now this should do the job."
"We have a bazooka?" Dean asked, a hand braced against the ceiling to keep from falling over.