"James Alan Gardner - League of Peoples 06 - Trapped" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner James Alan)

Myoko sighed. "That lineBlessed are the peacemakers went right over your head, didn't it, Impervia."

Before the good sister could answer, Nathan loosed a mighty bellow and charged straight at her.

Given that I haven't described Impervia, you might be picturing her as some elderly antique: the sort of
wizened gray-haired woman who gravitates to the teaching profession for the love of smacking young
knuckles with a ruler. Nothing could be further from the truth... except the part about smacking knuckles.
Impervia was twenty-six and as lean as a bullwhip, with black skin and blacker hair shaved within a
millimeter of her scalp. Between classes, she had a fondness for dropping behind her desk and doing
one-armed push-ups until the next bell rang.

Impervia's Holy Order claimed to be spiritual descendants of the Shaolin monks, those soft-speaking
folks who gave the world kung fu. I suspected this claim was false; for one thing, the Shaolins were
Buddhist while Impervia was a Handmaid of the Magdalene. (Basically Christian, but with some exotic
notions about Mary Magdalene being "purified" by Jesus and thereafter divine herself: the Trinity'sSpirtia
Sancta.) More likely, the early Magdalenes thought the Shaolin name would give them added credibility,
so they invented a fictitious lineage tracing their sect back to China. I judged this more probable than any
genuine historical connection... but I never told Impervia I doubted her kung fu heritage. Whether she
was true Shaolin or not, she could still kick a bull's testicles straight through its body and out the ring on
its nose.

This explains why none of us tried to help the good sister as bull-like Nathan charged forward. In fact,
we retreated to give Impervia more room. I planted my back against the door of a chandler's shop
across the street and prepared to contribute to the fight by playing referee.

Impervia met the fisherman's charge in a businesslike kickboxing pose, fists up, chin down: no showy
Crane-stance/Dragon-stance nonsense when she had real opponents to scuttle. She wore loose black
clothing and black leather glovesтАФthe gloves protected her against winter's cold, but also against getting
her hands carved up in forceful collisions with an opponent's teeth. Nathan, in contrast, had no special
fighting outfit, and attacked like a man who was
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(a) drunk; and

(b) experienced only in fighting other drunks.

As a result, he took a single clumsy swipe at our friend: an ill-defined move that might have been a
punch, a slap, or an attempt to grab her throat Impervia sidestepped and smartly tossed a jab to the
man's nose, a palm-heel to his floating ribs, and a full-force stomp on his foot. Not surprisingly, Nathan
fell to the cobblestones, with nothing more than a grunting gulp. It was only two seconds later that he
began howling obscenities.

"Why doesn't she ever try a good hard knee to the groin?" Myoko asked, slipping into the doorway
beside me.

"She says it's overrated," I replied. "First, it's not the guaranteed man-dropper everyone believesтАФmany
men can shrug off the pain, especially under the influence of drink, dope, or adrenaline. Second,