"Jack McKinney - Robotech 03 - Homecoming" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

to try simply pulling the pod's hatch open with the Battloid's huge, strong
hands. He ran his ship's fingers along the seams, feeling for a place to grab
hold...
The pod shook, rattled, and began to open.
Roy's Battloid leapt back, weapon aimed, as the hatch lifted up. Battloid
forefingers tightened on triggers, but there was no occupant immediately to be
seen.
However, the Battloids' external sound sensors relayed a remarkable
exchange, muffled and a little resonant, coming from the pod.
"Well, finally! Thank goodness! When you start bragging to your fighter
pilot buddies about this mission, boys, don't forget it took you just about
forever to get a simple hatch open!"
That voice was womanly and very pleasant, if a little arch and teasing.
Another, a young male's, sounding highly insulted, answered, "You weren't so hot
at getting in touch with your precious bridge, I noticed!"
If this is some kind of trick, we're up against the zaniest enemies in the
universe, Roy thought.
"I thought you both did very well," another male voice said calmly, humbly
placatingly.
"Ah, look out, Max," the first male voice said. "And let's get outta
here."
There was a certain amount of grunting and straining then, and at one
point the female voice yelled, "Ben, if you don't get your big foot out of my
face, I'm going to break it off!" A vociferous argument broke out.
"Everybody shut up!" the first male voice screamed. "Ben, Max: Gimme a
boost up, here."
Moments later, two flight-gloved, human-size hands gripped the edge of the
hatch. A dark mop of black hair rose into view.
Rick Hunter, standing on the head of the husky Ben Dixon, hauled himself
up triumphantly.
"Hold your fire! We're back! Roy, we escaped from the Zentraedi-um..."
Three Battloids stood there looking at him, hands resting casually on the
upturned muzzles of their grounded autocannon, heads cocked to one side or the
other. Their attitude seemed to be one of resigned disgust.
"We escaped!" Rick repeated, thinking perhaps they hadn't heard him. "Man,
have we got stories to tell! We were in an enemy ship! We met their leaders! We
shot our way out in this pod! We...we...What's wrong?"
Roy couldn't tell Rick how overjoyed and relieved he was; it would have
spoiled their friendship.
"We were hoping for a POW," he said. "Boy, is Captain Gloval gonna be sore
at you for not being a Zentraedi."


CHAPTER TWO
The Zentraedi version of psychology could only be termed primitive, of course,
except as it applied to such things as maintaining military discipline and
motivating warriors. And even there, it was brutal and straightforward.
No surprise, then, that when those particular three Zentraedi were quick to
accept their spying mission, Breetai scarcely thought twice about it.
But of course, he hadn't spent as much time watching transmissions of the