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

into a decorative torc around his neck. "Ah," said a dry, whispery voice
with its own metallic tang. "So the rumors were correct. My journey
here is not for nothing. Welcome back, my dear." For a second Hathor
stood frozen, her face almost as pale as the one that confronted her.
Once Ptah's face had been reasonably handsome, but now it was a wreck.
Half the features, including one eye, were constructed of Ra's
biomorphic quartzose material. The flesh that showed was beyond dead
white. It had a waxen greenish tinge. Even more shocking, however, was
the fact that Hathor recognized the ruined countenance. The man
standing before her was the first Ptah-her erstwhile husband. Stark
incomprehension stiffened her features. Then she turned in rage on
Thoth. "He couldn't have told you, my dear," Ptah spoke up, forestalling
her. "Information is only as good as the system that houses it. And
certain facts have been ... removed from the chronicles over the years."
A half smile tugged at the human side of Ptah's face. "My own origins,
for instance, were known only by Ra. Our relationship was expunged,
while your connection with our leader took on nearly mythological
dimensions." "How-" Hathor began, gesturing at his cyborg shell. "What-"
"A mishap in correcting a drive flaw in one of the warships you wheedled
out of Ra." Ptah strove for suavity, but Hathor could detect a more
metallic note in his whispering voice. "You were already occupying Ra's
backup sarcophagus, and he was unwilling to forgo his primary unit for
the amount of time it would take to cure me. What if he should
unexpectedly need it? So he took a more mechanical approach to
repairing my ills. Unfortunately, that meant I could never use the
sarcophagus again." Ptah ran a metallic hand down the mechanical side of
his face. "But I've managed to survive with these expedients. How
ironic that I, who eschewed the use of a mask, now wear one
permanently." What Hathor needed to know, however, was what lurked
beneath Ptah's mask. Obviously, he blamed her for his disfigured
existence. But she could overlook personal enmity in a political
alliance. "You, more than any other, must know what I intend," Hathor
said. "Will you support me?" Ptah spread his arms, one dull-burnished
metal, one wizened flesh. "I've examined your rivals," he said candidly.
"Left to themselves, they'll destroy everything unless curbed. Yes,
dear Hathor, I support you.."

But the unsaid words "for now" hung in the air between them.

CHAPTER 5

BUYING IN

Jack O'Neil was wryly amused-and grudgingly impressed-by Skaara's boy
soldiers as they accompanied the visitors to the city of Nagada. Skaara
had a point man, rear guard, and flankers out as they marched through
the dunes. It was perfect Marine recon patrol doctrine-and a testament
to Skaara's powers of observation. His order of march was obviously
lifted from the way O'Neil had done things on his last visit to Abydos.
The colonel glanced toward the toiling figure of Walter Draven. Maybe