"Jack McKinney - Robotech Sentientals 4 - World Killers" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

as if it calmed him to be hurting her.
Minmei resisted ineffectually for a moment, then gave up. "Go ahead! Do
what you want! You think being cruel makes you strong? I've known real men,
and compared to them you're a pitiful excuse for a Human being and a miserable
failure as a lover-"
Her own scream cut her off, as he gave her more pain. He had her wrist
in a hold that felt like he was about to break it, and he shook her head back
and forth slowly to emphasize each word. "Your Jonathan Wolff's dead by now,
like Hunter and the rest. Were you going to join the Zentraedi? They got in my
way, too; they're finished."
He knelt, pulling her face around to his. "I told you there are things I
know, things I've learned since we got to Tirol, that will give me unlimited
power. Unlimited control. You may not love me willingly, but you will love
me."
Nothing Minmei had ever heard had terrified her like those words. She
could feel his hot breath on her; it sickened her.
"Now, you're going to tell me everything I want to know, and all the
rest of it. And in the meantime we'll just keep you nice and calm."
The general reached out with his free hand and buzzed for the guards.
All her blathering about awakening the dead-it had to be mad raving, of
course, he told himself, but it still bothered him. And yet a search of the
area had turned up no sign whatsoever of the pilot who had spirited her off
SDF-3, nor could Edwards's agents produce any clues.
The dead might mean a number of things, but Edwards suspected he knew
whom she meant. Preposterous...
He flung her at the guards. "Lock her up, dry her out. I want no one to
get word of this. Complete cover-up. Tell the interrogators to keep me
updated."
After the guards had dragged her out, Edwards gazed out the window.
He could hardly know that, far across a distant landing-site hardtop, a
man in a pilot's suit was staring back through a telebinoc at the silhouette
so far away that was a mortal enemy.
Lieutenant Isle lowered the telebinoc. All the elaborate security
systems and complex equipment and weaponry between him and Edwards were just
an abstract problem in mission planning now; just a layered project requiring
the proper application and strength of will.
But the battle itself was joined.
CHAPTER EIGHT
If Sartre's right and the history of every person is the story of failure,
then something's outta whack here.
Commander Vincent Grant, quoted in The Sentinels, by Le Roy la Paz

If Glike was enchanting from the landing stages and spires of the city, it was
overwhelming from the vantage point of a Haydonite cone-flier.
Vince, mesmerized by the fantasyland view, blinked in surprise to
realize that the cone was hovering, with its disk-rim up against a landing
stage, over the summit of a skyscraper that suggested an inverted icicle. The
transparent dome under which he, Jonathan Wolff, and Max had been standing now
parted, providing a debarkation gate.
But the landing stage was empty. Max turned to their Haydonite pilot