"Robert Doherty - Area 51 - Nosferatu" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doherty Robert)

Robert Doherty

AREA 51

NOSFERATU

PROLOGUE

THE PRESENT

The Skeleton Coast, West Africa
The room was dimly lit by a single low-wattage bulb set beneath the tattered
shade of an old lamp sitting in the center of the large, oaken table that
dominated the room. The table was oval, stretching ten feet in length and five
in width, and its top was marked and scarred by centuries of use. Four large
wing armchairs were spaced evenly around the table. They were cushioned and
covered in well-worn black leather. The curved outer wall was smoothly cut
sandstone, breached only by a single door made of thick planks of weathered
wood, bound with iron spikes to a diagonal crossbeam.
Three figures occupied chairs, leaving one empty. There were no papers in
front of them, no laptops, hand-helds, or any other electronic device in the
room other than the single light and a large flat-screen display set in front of
the empty chair, facing the other three. The faces of the three were hidden in
the shadows of their high-backed chairs and the only way for each to determine
who was speaking was from accent and direction.
"Gentlemen, I welcome you to the Haven." The voice was low yet powerful,
easily carrying from the chair opposite the door across the polished oak
tabletop from the

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others. The accent was indeterminate, an amalgamation of numerous languages
warped over the ages into speaking English.
The voice continued. "We have waited a long time, a very long time, for this
day. The Airlia have been defeated by the humans. Both sides. The two alien
leaders, Aspasia and Artad, are dead. Quite remarkable and more fortuitous than
I had ever hoped. They who made us and hate us are gone. It is our time now."
The man leaned forward, revealing a narrow face, white hair, and dark eyes
with the slightest hint of red in them. When the dim light struck them a certain
way the pupils appeared to be slightly elongated. Despite the white hair, his
skin was smooth and alabaster, as if it had never seen the light of day or the
grim hand of time. He wore a flowing robe of soft gray cloth.
His voice deepened as he spoke. "I was made Nosferatu in the First Age of
Egypt, before the dawn of history as recorded by the humans, the child of Horus
the Airlia and a human High Consort. I have lived for over ten millennia waiting
for the time when those who made us would be defeated and we would not have to
live in fear of them." He looked around the table. "This is the first time the
three of us have been together in the same place at the same time. I thank you
for answering my summons. With the Airlia gone we are the eldest and most
powerful species on the planet."