"Jack McKinney - Robotech 14 - Dark Powers" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

The being looking down on him was virtually smoothfaced, like some blank
mask. "I cannot offer mine," it said in the same voice they had heard over the
commo.
Other figures, larger, loomed up behind it. Still more crowded at the
sides, lower and surreptitiously slinky. Out-gassing from the Sentinels'
ship's atmosphere put a sudden mist in the air of Tirol, and it got even
harder to see.
Then Rick heard Lisa's scream, and he cried out her name. All at once he
was grappling hand-to-hand with the devil.


CHAPTER THREE
I suppose we shouldn't have been surprised. We had already discovered, back
during the Robotech War, that wherever the basic chemical building blocks of
life coexisted, they linked preferentially to form the same subunits that
defined the essential biogenetic structures found on Earth. In other words,
the ordering of the DNA code wasn't a quirk of nature.
The formation and linking of ammo acids and nucleotides was all but
inevitable. The messenger RNA codon-anticodon linkages seemed to operate on a
coding intrinsic to the molecules themselves. We knew that life throughout the
universe would be very similar, and that some force appeared to dictate that
it be so.
But that didn't keep the sight of the Sentinels from knocking most of us right
off our pins.
Lisa Hayes, Recollections

The devil who was fending Rick off wasn't quite the one from Old Testament
scare stories. At least he seemed to lack the power of fire and brimstone, and
was trying to reason in accented Tiresian rather than condemning Rick to the
Lower Depths and Agony Everlasting.
"Release me! Unhand me!"
All Rick could see was a grinning, slightly demonic face from which
horns grew. Then Rick felt himself pulled away with such strength that he
thought the massive Vince Grant or even Breetai himself had laid hands on him.
To Rick's astonishment it was Lang, carefully but forcefully preventing
a diplomatic catastrophe.
The Protoculture, working through him? the young admiral wondered.
The air was clearing and a riot had been averted. The Humans' jaws
dropped in wonder as the Sentinels presented themselves.
"I am Veidt, of Haydon IV," the robed one-the one who had refused Lisa's
hand-said. "And as I was about to say, I cannot offer you my hand, for I have
none, nor have I arms, as you understand the concept. Yet, I welcome your
words of friendship, and reaffirm mine." Veidt floated down the ramp toward
them and inclined his head solemnly.
Lisa, finding no words, returned the gesture.

The envoys from the Sentinels adjourned with those of the REF to a big,
round table, set out at the council's decree, under the jade glow of crescent
Fantoma in the long Tiresian night. The area was lit by banks of illuminator
grids, and by the odd-looking, two-legged Tiresian searchlights.