"Alan Dean Foster - Icerigger 1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)"If I were to cut off your daughter's legs, say, starting at the big toe and working slowly file:///F|/rah/Alan%20Dean%20Foster/Foster,%20A...%20Dean%20-%20Icerigger%201%20-%20Icerigger.txt (8 of 179) [1/16/03 7:07:11 PM] file:///F|/rah/Alan%20Dean%20Foster/Foster,%20Alan%20Dean%20-%20Icerigger%201%20-%20Icerigger.txt upward, I don't think it would inconvenience our plans. Does that convince you?" "Ignore him, father," said Colette. "He's bluffing." "Dear me ... !' The old man, for all his billions, was a pitiful aged sack of indecision. Then something seemed to rise out of his mind and into his tone. He stood straighter and spat once at Kotabit. The big man dodged it easily, his watch-fulness undiminished. Du Kane seemed pleased with himself. He turned and entered the tiny flexible lock leading into the lifeboat. Ethan thought of taking a swipe at Walther's gun, but Kot-abit showed no signs of the other's jerkiness. While his death might complicate their scheme, Ethan entertained no illusions about what the other would do if he charged either of them. Ire followed the small roan with the contacts into the boat. "My name's Williams, by the way ... Milliken Williams," offered the latter conversationally, as he entered the lock ahead of Ethan. "I teach school. Upper matriculation." "Ethan Fortune. I'm a salesman." He glanced back at the girl. She was followed too closely by the pressed too close. It was dark in the lifeboat. The only light came from the fore instrument panel, which was always kept on. Neither of the two, gunmen made any effort to turn on the boat lights. Obviously they were afraid of triggering a telltale in the con-trol bubble. He considered hitting the switch regardless of consequences, but was balked by one fact. He'd never been on a lifeboat except during drill and wouldn't know the interior light toggle from the self-destruct switch. So they stumbled around in near-night, strapping them-selves into the couches at threatening words from the gunmen. There were twenty seats, in addition to the two pilots' couches for-ward. Walther was already in one, doing unseen things to the main console. Kotabit was lazily strapping himself into the other. He'd swiveled his couch around to watch the rest of them. Ethan didn't feel like testing the other's night vision. There was no warning siren when the boat door snapped shut. That, at least, had been cut in advance to prevent warn-ing the ship's computer. It seemed certain they'd be noticed as soon as the boat left the ship's hull, but Ethan was no engineer and couldn't be certain. Walther was muttering something that sounded like, `s. . e set enough apart ... hope ... " "Better strap in tight, everybody," Ethan advised the others. "I don't think we'll be setting down at the regular port." "Brilliant!" Colette du Kane's voice was as easily defined as her shape. |
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