"Gordon, Steve - Insectoid 03 - Death to the Insectoids!" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gordon Steve)

the Silencer, ducking underneath both of them, delivered a sharp kick
into the creature's gut. With an ooomph! it fell to the ground. But the
Silencer wasn't finished yet; smashing down with his elbow, he cracked
one the creature's large eye plexuses. It started to scream as it
splurted green blood.
Other Insectoid guards ran up, brandishing lasers. Two of them
pulled the still writhing body of the first Insectoid guard out, while
the others kept the Silencer covered.
One of the guards, looking back and forth from the body to the
Silencer several times, said, "Please eat quickly."

There was an enormous cage in the arena, filled with what the
Insectoids called "beasts"; giant insects breed for viciousness. These
beasts happened to be giant bumblebees, each half again as large as a
groundcar. There were three of them in the cage. The Silencer wondered
how they expected him to fight them off with one of their cumbersome
blade weapons.
And then something was thrown down to him in the sand. He
recognized it immediately, even before he picked it up. It was a
simple, straight blade. With a button on the hilt. The Silencer hefted
it in his left hand, and pressed the button. The outer edge of the
blade gave off a thin glow.
It was a traditional Graftonite powerblade, or powersword. The
forcefield along the edges of the blade could cut through the hardest
substance like butter.
And then the door to the cage opened, and the three giant bees
swarmed out in a direct line to him.
The Silencer wasn't an expert in the use of powerblades as other
Graftonites were. And using his left arm was somewhat awkward. But he
was a Graftonite, one of the fastest, and he had used a powerblade
before.
The three bees came towards him at an altitude of only five feet
off the ground, their forms casting heavy shadows underneath them,
their yellow and black colors glinting off the natural sunlight. They
made a loud buzzing sound as their eye plexuses, sparkling in the
light, homed in on him. It was as if headlights from large gravtrucks
were fixed on him.
The Silencer seemed paralyzed into inaction. The shock of the
sight of these beasts had caused more than one of their victims to
freeze in their tracks.
But the Silencer was merely biding his time. At the last moment,
the Silencer dodged to one side, running furiously as he raised his
sword up. He ran under and around one of the flanking bees so fast that
it took them a few moments to decelerate and turn around.
It was only then that the spectators noticed a piece of a wing on
the ground, and one of the bees was flying unsteadily. The raised sword
hadn't been a theatrical move, as many of the spectators had assumed;
while running and dodging, the Silencer, quicker than anyone could see,
had sliced through a piece of one of the beasts.
The beasts turned and charged again, but the Silencer kept