"Jack McKinney - Sentinels 03 - Death Dance" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

had brewed up from some indigenous grass. After four months it had come down to this: the GMU's
stores were nearly empty and foraging had become one of the group's primary activities. And in all those
months they had yet to come up with an explanation for the disappearance of the planet's native
population. What was left of the central city and all the surrounding villages were deserted. But whether
what Bela called "the Praxian Sisterhood" had chosen to leave had not been ascertained.

Puzzling, too, were the tectonic anomalies and quakes that were continuing to plague the planet, as often
as three times a day now. The quakes had convinced the Sentinels' Praxian contingent that
Arla-Non--Bela's "mother" and the leader of the Sisterhood-had struck a deal with the Invid to move the
planet's population to some other world. Rick wasn't sure if he bought the explanation, but it certainly
served a therapeutic need if nothing else.

"Look," Rick said, breaking the silence, "they're probably already searching for us. Lang's not about to
write us off. And even if the mining operation is close to on-schedule, they'll have at least one ship
readied with the capability for a local jump. We just have to hope the Invid have lost interest in this
place."

The horde's absence these months bordered on the conspicuous; and with the quakes and deserted
villages, Cabell had speculated that it was possible the Invid knew something the Sentinels didn't.

Rick's optimism in the face of all this had Vince smiling to himself. Rick would always be a commander
whether he liked it or not. "It's not Lang we're worried about," he said, speaking for himself and Wolff.
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Rick caught his meaning. "Edwards has to answer to the council." There was an edge to his voice he
didn't mean to put there. Lang had warned Rick about Edwards during one of the last links the Farrago
had had with Base Tirol, and it was difficult to keep the memory of that brief deep-space commo from
surfacing.

"Don't underestimate the man's ambitions, Rick," Wolff cautioned. "I'm sure they're going to come
looking, but I'm willing to bet that Edwards will have the council eating out of his hand by then. Maybe
one of us should have-"

"I don't want to go over old ground," Rick cut him off. "The only thing that interests me right now is a way
to reach that drive module."

Grant and Wolff exchanged looks and studied their cups of tea. Rick was right, of course: there was no
use dwelling on the choices they had made, individually and collectively. Wolff liked to think that at least
Vince had Jean by his side and the precious GMU under his feet. But Rick had all but resigned his
commission, and Wolff himself had left his heart behind.

A rumbling sound broke the silence, causing the mugs to skitter across the tabletop. The tremor built in
intensity, rattling the command center's consoles and screens, then subsided, rolling away beneath them
like contained thunder.

No one spoke for a moment. Wolff wore a wary look as he loosened his grip on the edge of the table
and sat back to exhale a whistle. "Course, Praxis could do us in long before the Invid or Edwards."