"Carver, Jeffrey A - Parrone - The Dragons" - читать интересную книгу автора (Carver Jeffrey A)

image, except turn our ship into a fighter-flyer and pray for the
best." He shook his head, lost in his own story. "But our best wasn't
much. There we were, twistin' and tumin' in the air, tryin' to scoot
away from 'em. But-" and his voice caught as the fear rolled back up
his spine, as though it had happened yesterday.
"They beat you, is that what you're trying to say?" snickered the
red-haired kid.
The rigger leveled a drunken gaze at his taunter, so cocky and naive.
Another bolo erupted from the kid's head@ cartoonish figure of a man
reeling and spinning before falling over with a sword hilt sticking out
of his stomach. That evoked a few sardonic titters, which was clearly
the reaction the kid wanted. The older rigger shook his head. He
hated whiny, false bravado.

"Yeah, they beat us, you little punk. Four dragons, each one the
size of this room, beat us in combat. Can you imagine that? We musta
been weaklings."
He was answered with a restless stirring, and he continued at once.
"They didn't kill us right off, though. They boxed us in and forced us
down on a plateau. Full-stop landing." He paused for emphasis. The
Flux never stopped moving in its endless course among the stars;
everyone knew that. Only this time it had.
"They started looking' us over," he said more softly.
"Four fire-breathin' dragons, about to flame us to cinders right
there in the net@d two scared-@piss riggers, I don't mind admittin'
it." He paused and gulped his ale. "I didn't think I'd ever see home
again. And I wouldn't've, either, if it ' hadn't been for the iffit, I
mean iring . . . " He struggled with the memory, teetering, even with
one elbow propped on the wooden bartop to support himself. "If that
thing hadn't've showed up and told the dragons-" A belch erupted
without warning from his throat, interrupting him.
"Let me guess! A prophecy?" someone shouted.
He stared in the general direction of the shout. He had at least
some of them listening, even if they didn't want to admit it. "Well,
you're getting a little ahead of the story, but yes, it told them the
proph-buurpl-ecy." He put his fist over his mouth in embarrassment.
"Which of course you're going to tell us!" called a whipbodied
humanoid, who maybe didn't know human rules of etiquette, or maybe
couldn't help speaking in such a sneering tone of voice.
"Unless you don't remember it!" called a shrill-voiced woman.
Derisive laughter echoed after her.
"I remember it!" he said hotly. "Better than you remember your own
name! just give me a second to collect myself." He was trying not to
become angry.
"Canteen, we've given you too much time already!"

yelled a man just down the stand-up bar from him. "Tell us another
one, will you? Of course " and the drinker guffawed-"we won't believe
that one, either. We don't even believe you when you're sober!"
"Oh, no?" The rigger drew himself up in an effort to maintain some