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

before hand-to-hand brawls became pitched battles with energy weapons. A
dubious prospect, with hard vacuum beyond the walls of Ra's pleasure
domes. Still worse, there would be no room to maneuver, no chance to
temporize with Sebek and the others who wanted Thoth's support. Thoth
activated his headgear, allowing the aspect of the This to cover his
face. His gangling frame moved smoothly, imbued with sudden purpose. He
headed for the lower levels of the pyramid, domain of machinery and the
occasional mechanic. But building plans existed, and these had to be
recorded, filed, and thus passed into the hands of the scribes. Thanks
to the plans, Thoth had found the airlock, and thanks to other records
he had learned of the necessities for workers to wear on their
infrequent maintenance jobs outside. The suit accommodated his kilt but
tightly gripped his chest and extremities in a sensation unfamiliar on
skin that usually went bare. Hookups ran to his helmet so he could
breathe. He cycled through the lock and set off across the bare rock.
Mere yards from the pyramid, the field of artificial gravity died away.
That was all to the good. Thoth set off on huge, exaggerated bounding
steps for a horizon that seemed unnaturally close. His destination was
far enough from the complex of pyramidal construction which housed Ra's
palace. It was beyond the view even of the crystal summit of the
tallest one the place where he'd just met with Sebek. Thoth was gasping
by the time he scaled the wall of the small craterlet. Even with the
lower gravity this represented unfamiliar exertion. At least this time
he had nothing to carry. The crater floor was of blackish rock, and if
the secret records hadn't told Thoth exactly where to look, he'd have
dismissed his destination as a shadow or a chance rock formation. Even
close by, the contours were irregular enough-and spalled by 8,500 years
of micrometeorite impacts-to be dismissed as natural. One had to look
down into the murky hole in the ground to identify the entrance to the
mastaba, or underground tomb. Thoth manipulated the entrance controls
and slipped inside. A pile of gear, brought by him piece by piece, lay
right at the access. He picked up a small hand light, then turned to
seal the tomb's portal. Only when he was sure it wouldn't be seen on the
surface did he activate his torch. The interior of the mastaba had
gotten far less attention than its artfully concealed entrance. The
chamber had apparently been chopped into existence with energy beams.
Its walls were crude and out of true, the blackish stone melted and
stagged in places. In one corner lay the burned and blasted remains of
the workers who'd done the excavating. Their twisted forms made a
striking contrast to the sarcophagus resting on the bumpy floor.
Exquisitely carved from the quartzose material reserved for the most
splendid of Ra's technological wonders, the stone box bulked large in
the crude quarters, seeming to glow with a muted golden radiance as
Thoth's light flashed on it. A sun disk decorated the head of the
funerary bier, which was twice as long as a man was tall. Hieroglyphs
ran across the waist-high covering stone-a hymn to eternal life. Thoth
turned to the other materials he'd cached in the tomb. He opened
canisters of pressurized air, bringing atmosphere back to the room for
the first time in millennia. At last Thoth opened his this mask and
took a deep breath. Then he turned to the sarcophagus, tapping several