"McCay, Bill - Stargate Rebellion" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCay Bill)

words were true. The visitors were dressed as people from Earth. And
one of them wore a black beret. Fixing his gaze, Skaara saw this was
indeed Jack O'Neil. The black-hatted man wore a different suit: not
green this time, but mottled in tans and yellows-the colors of the
sands. The camouflage made it more difficult to spot the newcomers. But
Skaara had gotten a good look at the colonel's face. That was all he
needed to see to tell him that these were friends. Turning, he
reorganized his little command from an ambush party to an honor guard.
But, like any good officer, he still took a moment to lash into Nabeh
for wasting their precious ammunition. Walter Draven, UMC's advance man
on Abydos, threw his long, thin body to the sand as the noise of
rattling discharges echoed against the face of the pyramid. "That sounds
like gunshots," he said. The hard eyes in his hatchet-like face turned
almost angrily to their military liaison. "At least a clip on an M-16
firing at full auto," Colonel Jack O'Neil agreed. "You said these people
were primitives-that they barely had metal tools when you met them!"
Draven's legal background broke out at the oddest moments, like this
accusatory speech. "Well, it sounds as if the locals got themselves some
hardware," Martin Preston, the engineering side of the scouting party,
pointed out. He was short and stocky, with a round red face and bandy
legs. But he was supposed to know everything there was to know about
mining in primitive conditions. "A group of kids helped us," O'Neil
explained, a brief smile coming to his lips at the memory of Skaara and
his friends. "They used some of our guns. Although," he admitted, "I'm
surprised by this date that they'd have any bullets left." "Maybe they
salvaged some from your supplies," Preston's practical voice pointed
out. "According to your report, you chose to abandon most of the
equipment at your base camp." O'Neil barely hid his surprise that
General West had given classified reports to a mining engineer. He
glanced toward the growing mound of sand that entombed most of the cases
of supplies left behind. "If so, they showed more initiative than I'd
have expected." His face became grim. "More discipline, too." "How so?"
Draven demanded. "Kids and guns are a dangerous combination. Put a gun
in a kid's hand, and it may well go off." The UMC men glanced at each
other, then followed silently as O'Neil led the way down the rocky face
of escarpment. No other shots rang out. "Could it have been target
practice?" Preston suggested a trifle breathlessly as he swung down,
his foot scrabbling for a foothold. "I'd say it was more in the nature
of a signal," O'Neil opined. He was breathing as easily as if he were
on a stroll across the parade ground. "So these people have someone
watching the StarGate." The sharp-faced Draven managed to make it sound
like a hostile act. "Well, they would have a vested interest in knowing
if anyone appeared," O'Neil pointed out. "You think this could be due to
that professor who took up with the local girl and went native? What was
his name-Jackson?" Draven asked. O'Neil had to chuckle at the idea.
"Daniel? I think he'd be too busy translating hieroglyphics and
enjoying married life to organize any sort of civil defense." "Then who
has people out there spying on us?" Draven wanted to know. "There's an
easy enough way to find out," O'Neil responded. "We'll go out there and
ask them." He reached the base of the stony outcrop and set off for the