"Liaden Universe - 04 - Plan B" - читать интересную книгу автора (Miller Steve)

She danced back to the metal wall, gray eyes intent, muscles coherent; poised, not stressed; the sweat bathing her face the residue of physical exertion, rather than strain.

She let him regain stance, she allowed him time for orientation, time to conceive and launch an attack; uncommon courtesy from so deadly a battle-mate. He feinted with a move out of L'apeleka, saw the grin flit across her face even as she shifted balance in proper response to the phrase.

He danced another half-phrase of the Clutch discipline, choosing a subtle variant beyond her current level of attainment. He was not really surprised when she moved smoothly in response, timing perfect as a heartbeat. His mental Loop, residue of his days as a full Agent of Change, indicated her chance of besting him in this encounter was nearly seventeen percentЧfour times higher than it had been half a year ago. She charged.

Training took over and his hands flashed out, faster than thought. The knife spun away as he caught both her wrists this time and took her with him into the somersault, both aware of the constraining walls.

She twisted and broke half free. He countered, snaking around and pinning her flat against the metal floor, one hand tight under her chin.

"Yield!" he demanded, trying not to see how easily his fingers encircled the fragile column of her throat.

She sighed slightly, considering him out of calm gray eyes. "Sure," she said. "What the hell."

He laughed, taking his hand from her throat and rolling away to prop hip and elbow against the cold deck. "Not quite the attitude I might expect from a seasoned mercenary."

"No sense gettin' killed," Miri said reasonably, grabbing his free hand and laying it over her breast. She squirmed a little, as if to settle more comfortably against the deck plates. "That's better."

"Fraternizing with the enemy?" inquired Val Con.

"Taking a little rest with my partner," she corrected him sternly. "Liadens and Terrans ain't enemiesЧthey just don't get along too good."

He opened his green eyes very wide. "Don't we get along, Miri?"

"Yeah, but see," she said earnestly, reaching to touch his right cheek and the scar that marred the smooth golden skin, "we're crazy. And that's besides you being a scout and having this funny idea about how Liadens and Terrans and for-space-sake Yxtrang are all from the same stock."

"It is true," Val Con allowed, feeling her heartbeat through the breast nestled in his palm, "that scout training may have identified those characteristics that are classified as 'crazy' and honed them to a fine degree. However, the hypothesis of the common root of the three human races is from my father's studies." He smiled. "So you see that insanity is hereditary."

"Yeah, all you do is believe it." She stretched suddenly and sat up, face abruptly serious. "Tell you what, boss: I think I'm cured."

He rolled over onto his back, crossed his arms behind his head and considered the other thing inside his headЧa precious gift, balancing the Loop's distasteful, inevitable presence.

Legend said that lifemates had often been linked this way, soul to soul, not quite sharing thought, but rather sharing intent; joying in a knowledge of each other that went deeper than any kin-tie. That he and Miri should be so linked, now, when Liad's wizards were on the wane and lifemates were merely in love, was wonderful past belief.

"Boss?"

"Eh?" He started and smiled at the ripples in the song that was Miri in his head; smiled at the frown of concern on her face. "Forgive me, cha'trez. I was thinking." He stretched and sat up next to her. "I believe your estimation is correct, however: you certainly fight as if you are cured."

"Huh." She shook her head. "You need somebody around can really give you a workout."

"So? You very nearly had me. Twice," he added thoughtfully. "Miri."

"Yo."

"Where did you learn the response to that Clutch move?"

"The second one?" She shrugged. "Seemed the only logical way to go, given how you shiftedЕ" Her shoulders dipped, upper body sketching the essence of the move. "YeahЕ"

"Ah."