"Lisanne Norman - Sholan 03 - Fire margins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman Lisanne)

"We're being hailed from the planet's surface, General," the comm interrupted politely.

M'ezozakk relaxed back in his seat. "Are the cargo shuttles ready?"
"The shuttles are ready, General," said his security offi-cer. "Shuttle One awaits your command for the
automatic launch. Shuttle Two is fueled and ready. It awaits the crew and captives."

"The comm is yours, J'koshuk. I'll watch with interest while you negotiate with these beings," said
M'ezozakk waving his hand lazily in the direction of the main viewer. "Open a channel to the surface," he
ordered his comm officer.

J'koshuk bowed again, barely concealing the mixture of anger and fear on his face.

Let him hate me, just as long as he also fears me, M'ezozakk thought.

***

The cuboid sat at the back of the room, beyond the reach of the four Sholans. The Valtegans hadn't been
about to let the unclean bodies of their captives go anywhere near their holy object. They'd lived
alongside it for weeks, its brooding presence reflecting their mood just as it reflected the light. Just why
they'd been kept there, Jeran had never been able to figure out. He had noticed that the ordinary troops
on this vessel were even more afraid of the cuboid than of them. That was another puzzle. Why should
the Valtegans fear them? Four half-starved and beaten Sholans chained to the floor hardly represented
much of a threat to them, surely.

At first, Miroshi had tried to work out what the cube was. The mental exercise had diverted her thoughts
from anticipating the next session with their tormentors. It had been futile, though. There was little she or
any of them could glean from its featureless surfaces. It just was.

A short time before, the Valtegans had come and taken it away, carefully hauling it from the room on its
obviously frictionless base. With it gone, they'd all felt easier. It was as if a weight they hadn't realized
was there had been lifted from them. He still felt a sense of unease about it though, as if it was connected
to them in some way he didn't understand.

The sound of the door opening roused Jeran from his reverie. It was all he could do to raise his head,
ears facing forward, and look toward the noise. He saw the priest first, then the five armed soldiers
behind him. He let his head fall back to the deck floor as the priest hissed out an order.

They wanted all of them this time. Usually they were taken singly. Maybe the damned lizards had tired of
their uncooperative captives and their nightmare was finally about to end. Death held no fear for him any
more: death meant freedom from their torturer, J'koshuk.

His body tensed, waiting for the kick or the blowтАФ or even the shot that would finish him. Instead, he
was grasped by the neck and hauled to his feet. A yelp of pain escaped him as the nonretractible claws
dug into his flesh. So much stronger than the Sholans, they made no effort to temper that strength when
handling their captives. His uniform jacket was stripped off him then, just as abruptly, he was released.
Naked apart from his pelt, he staggered, trying to keep his balance, but he was too weak to stand. The
heavy chain attached to the rigid metal collar round his neck dragged at him, pulling him down to the floor
again.

He'd barely had a chance to see the same had been done to his three companions when they were hit by