"Moorcock, Michael - The Blood Red Game" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

He had to pray that the Geepees wouldn't discover him before the Shifter materialised. They'd have to sit tight and wait it out. With any luck the Geepees wouldn't make a search of the ships on the pads until after they had scoured the town.

Renark beamed a message to the engineers, telling them to clear away their equipment and leave the ship in readiness for take-off.

Then he sat in his chair and waited.

An hour passed.

Willow seemed uncomfortable, sitting there in her immaculate sheath dress, listening to the men talking and going over the equations Renark had made, the records of the Shifter, theories which had been put forward.

Renark said: 'Rumour has it that this planet has a large human colony. I think we should head for that - number eight by my reckoning. You can see I've marked it.'

He glanced at Willow, who appeared pensive - not used to being ignored, evidently.

She moved nervously on her seat, looking about her disinterestedly. Normally there seemed to be nothing that could break her usual self-contained attitude - an attitude that had been necessary in a town like Migaa. But here, for the first time, she was in the company of men even more self-contained than she was. And it obviously disquieted her.

At last Asquiol saw her discomfort and said half apologetically: 'Anything troubling you?'

She smiled without amusement, obviously piqued: 'A woman's place is in the galley,' she said. 'Where is it?'

If she had intended to throw Asquiol off balance she had not succeeded.

'You might as well,' he said. 'I guess I'll be quite busy from now on. I expect we'll want something to eat soon.' He pointed to a door, then bent again over the charts.

Shrugging, she left the control room.

'Willow had always been curious about the Ghost System, living as she had in its shadow all her life. But she had never seen it. For some reason it had allowed her to dominate all the many men in her life, for they had seemed to have a hunger which she could not satisfy - though they had sought in her that satisfaction and had, therefore, put themselves in her power, thinking she had a secret she did not, in fact, possess.

Now she was going to the Shifter ... on Asquiol's instigation. She was glad. These men, all three, offered her something she was unused to. A strength of character, perhaps, that she had never found in all the others who had come to Migaa.

Renark, Talfryn and particularly Asquiol offered her calm, controlled strength - a peculiar mixture of detachment and passion. She busied herself preparing the food, finding a well-stocked larder - for Renark enjoyed food.

Talfryn looked up from the charts, glanced at the scanner screen. He swore and moved towards the controls.

'Something's gone wrong with the laser. I'll try and...'

'Don't touch those controls!'

Renark's brain seemed to swell within his skull, excitement pulsing through him, his body pounding. He paused for a second, frowned, controlled himself and then said calmly:

'It's coming, Talfryn.'

He sent his mind out, probing. He felt the sudden presence of the alien system grow as it merged into his own space-time - a whole system plunging towards them out of the hazy twilight of the universe, rupturing time and space on its rogue orbit. Elation flooded through him as he ran towards the laser screen.

The other two stood close behind him.

He watched as visible lines of energy swept across the area of space where his calculations indicated the Shifter would appear.

Space seemed to peel back on itself as great, blossoming splashes of colour poured through as if from the broken sides of a vat, merging with the darkness of space and making it iridescent so that sections shone like brass and others like silver, gold or rubies, the whole thing changing, changing constantly, erupting, flickering, vanishing, reappearing.