"Planet Of Twilight (Barbara Hambley)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hambly Barbara)

androgynous synthdroids stepped through the door after him, and shoved
Threepio hard across the room. The synthdroid had the startling strength of
cable and hydraulic joints, and Threepio, for all his excellent construction,
was only middling well balanced. He went crashing down in the corner, flailing
and struggling to get up.
"Stop it," said Ashgad, looking up at Dzym, holding his gaze: Meaning,
obscure to any onlooker, passed between them that they both understood.
"Release her."
"My lord, she may revive before..."
"Release her! Now!"
Dzym's mouth turned pettishly down for a moment. He shut his eyes in
momentary concentration. Then he drew a little breath, and said, "Very well.
The action is stopped."
Ashgad turned back to Leia. Artoo-Detoo, standing over her with his
single little clamper-arm extended downward as if to try to rouse her, swung
back to his upright mode and backed hastily.
"Wait!" cried Threepio. "No!" For the first time, he had an almost human
intuition that this man had not the smallest intention of taking the Chief of
State to the infirmary. "Artoo, stop them!"
But Ashgad was human, and Artoo, though he had a certain defensive
capability with his electronic welder, could no more have attacked him than he
could have danced on a tightrope. It was something that normally programmed
droids simply could not do.
Ashgad got to his feet, with Leia limp in his arms, the red velvet of her
robes hanging nearly to the floor. To the synthdroid, Ashgad began to say,
"You're to wait until the brig is... Yes, Liegeus?"
The thin, tired-looking man whom Threepio recognized as the brig's pilot
stepped in as the door swished open once more. "It's finished," the pilot
said. "I've launched the slave relay with the time-delayed projections of
final reports for both vessels. I used scrap from the active files of both
onboard computers. The messages should be indistinguishable from real
transmissions."
His face was white in the dark, graying tousle of his hair, and there was
a tautness to his mouth, as if he had just finished being sick.
"Everyone on board both ships appears to be dead or incapacitated."
He glanced over at Dzym, whose eyes had gone dreamy again.
Dzym smiled and murmured, "Yes. Oh, yes."
The man Liegeus looked away from him, pain and loathing in his eyes.
"The synthdroids have taken one of the shuttles over to the escort ship.
They should have no trouble boarding."
"Very good." Ashgad glanced at the wall chronometer. "It should take
about thirty minutes for us to return to the Light of Reason and take her far
enough from these ships for safety."
The door opened as they turned to enter the anteroom. Through it,
Threepio could glimpse the Noghri Ezrakh, sprawled on the floor across the
threshold, still moving feebly but his face livid with the pallor of
approaching death. Ashgad, with Leia in his arms, stepped over him, and over
the others, human and Noghri, lying on the floor beyond, the crimson velvet
dragging over their faces. Dzym knelt for a moment at
Ezrakh's side, passed his gloved hands lightly across the dying