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

of the island and passed through.
He staggered back as the Earth itself exploded. Tens of thousands died in an
instant as the core of the island blew upward, the very essence of the planet
beneath blasting through. Hot molten magma sprayed miles into the sky, mixed in
with rock and dirt and remains of the palace. The scale of the explosion stunned
him.
But it was the people that drew his attention. On the main jetty a mother
covered her daughter as the magma came down, searing the skin from their bones
in a flash. A warrior turned his shield upward in a futile gesture and
disappeared under tons of rock. Docked ships burst into flame, the roofs of
outlying buildings collapsed under the impact, crushing those hidden inside.
The entire island buckled, then imploded inward and downward. The surrounding
sea had spasmed from the power of the blast, rushing outward in a massive wave
that enveloped those who had not left soon enough. He felt the wave lift his
ship up, teetering it precariously, then pass by. He fell against the railing,
his knuckles white from clutching the wood.
Then the sea surged back, racing in where the island had been. Water met
magma, and steam roared into the air, but the water won as the island
disappeared into the depths. A boiling cauldron of water was all that was left
of the mighty kingdom.
Again, he looked up. The mothership was slowly

6
moving. Toward his location. Golden light began racing along the length of the
ship.
Nabinger staggered back, as if hit in the chest by a powerful blow. He felt
hands grab him and prevent him from hitting the rock floor of the cavern. He
shook his head, trying to clear it of the images that the guardian had just
shown him. He opened his eyes and returned to his time and the place he had
fought so hard to find, deep under an extinct volcano on Easter Island.
The guardian, a golden pyramid twenty feet high, lay before him, the surface
rippling with the strange effect he had been under the spell of. Nabinger shook
off the helping hands of the scientists and stared at the machine. His mind
could still see the faces of the mother and the daughter as they were burned
alive on the quay.
"What happened?" a UN representative asked, but Nabinger ignored them. He
stepped forward, hands open, palms forward, and placed them on the skin of the
guardian, waiting for the mental contact. Nothing.
He did it again.
Nothing.
After the third attempt he knew that there would be no more contact. Beyond
the images of the people who had died, though, another vision was very clear in
his mind's eye: the sails that had been over the horizon; the ones who had
escaped.
Mike Turcotte stared out the window of the BOQ room. Through the gates of Fort
Meyers he

7