"James P. Hogan - Giants 1 - Inherit The Stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hogan James P)

Giants 1 -- Inherit The Stars -- James P. Hogan

(Version 2002.02.07 -- Done)


To the memory of my Father


Prologue

He became aware of consciousness returning.
Instinctively his mind recoiled, as if by some effort of will he could
arrest the relentless flow of seconds that separated non-awareness from
awareness and return again to the timeless oblivion in which the agony of
total exhaustion was unknown and unknowable.
The hammer that had threatened to burst from his chest was now quiet.
The rivers of sweat that had drained with his strength from every hollow of
his body were now turned cold. His limbs had turned to lead. The gasping of
his lungs had returned once more to a slow and even rhythm. It sounded loud in
the close confines of his helmet.
He tried to remember how many had died. Their release was final; for him
there was no release. How much longer could he go on? What was the point?
Would there be anyone left alive at Gorda anyway?
"Gorda...? Gorda...?"
His mental defenses could shield him from reality no longer.
"Must get to Gorda!"
He opened his eyes. A billion unblinking stars stared back without
interest. When he tried to move, his body refused to respond, as if trying to
prolong to the utmost its last precious moments of rest. He took a deep breath
and, clenching his teeth at the pain that instantly racked again through every
fiber of his body, forced himself away from the rock and into a sitting
position. A wave of nausea swept over him. His head sagged forward and struck
the inside of his visor. The nausea passed.
He groaned aloud.
"Feeling better, then, soldier?" The voice came clearly through the
speaker inside his helmet. "Sun's getting low. We gotta be moving."
He lifted his head and slowly scanned the nightmare wilderness of
scorched rock and ash-gray dust that confronted him.
"Whe -- " The sound choked in his throat. He swallowed, licked his lips,
and tried again. "Where are you?"
"To your right, up on the rise just past that small cliff that juts out
-- the one with the big boulders underneath."
He turned his head and after some seconds detected a bright blue patch
against the ink-black sky. It seemed blurred and far away. He blinked and
strained his eyes again, forcing his brain to coordinate with his vision. The
blue patch resolved itself into the figure of the tireless Koriel, clad in a
heavy-duty combat suit.
"I see you." After a pause: "Anything?"
"It's fairly flat on the other side of the rise -- should be easier
going for a while. Gets rockier farther on. Come have a look."