"Jody Lynn Nye - The Grand Tour" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nye Jody Lynn)

of every evil thing that has ever happened to us. We canтАЩt do anything about the Waking World, but
we donтАЩt want any of your kind ever coming back to the Dreamland.тАЭ
тАЬDreamland for the Dreamed!тАЭ the crowd at his back shouted.
тАЬNo,тАЭ Chuck said hoarsely. He trembled for life that had become more precious than it had ever
been before. тАЬI donтАЩt want to die. IтАЩm ready to live.тАЭ
тАЬThatтАЩs a shame,тАЭ Morit said, smiling so all of his sharkтАЩs teeth showed at once. тАЬYouтАЩll never be
able to find your way out of the province. This has been planned a long, long time. You wonтАЩt be able
to tell whatтАЩs real and what isnтАЩt until itтАЩs too late.тАЭ
тАЬRun,тАЭ Roan advised, taking to his heels.
тАЬStop them!тАЭ Morit shouted behind them. Chuck glanced over his shoulder. Morit came riding
toward them on the crest of a moving wave of earth. It was the most terrifying thing Chuck had ever
seen. MoritтАЩs eyes were wild and red-rimmed like a fiendтАЩs.
тАЬOh, dear! Oh, Spot!тАЭ Mrs. Flannel cried. She scurried along in their wake. Chuck doubled back to
pick her up. With her and Spot in his arms he put on a burst of speed. He had to get to the border!
тАЬYou canтАЩt get away!тАЭ Morit shouted after them, his voice dying away in the distance. тАЬIтАЩll get all
of you if I have to discontinue to do it!тАЭ Spot barked defiance over his mistressтАЩs shoulder. тАЬAnd your
little dog, too!тАЭ



BAEN BOOKS by JODY LYNN NYE
Also in this series:
Waking in Dreamland
School of Light

The Death of Sleep (with Anne McCaffrey)
The Ship Who Won (with Anne McCaffrey)
The Ship Errant
DonтАЩt Forget Your Spacesuit, Dear (editor)
Book Three of
The Dreamland

Chapter 1
тАЬWake up, sir, youтАЩve arrived.тАЭ
Chuck blinked awake with a start, flailing against the soft bonds that contained his hands. It turned
out to be a blanket. Panting, Chuck thrust it aside and twisted around in the padded airplane seat to
look up at the stewardess. She was a middle-aged woman who looked calm and motherly in her soft,
pearl-gray uniform. She favored him with a gentle smile. Her hair, light brown shot with a few silver
threads, was folded up under a gray pillbox hat that was adorned with a silver feather lying on a cloud.
The same insignia was embroidered on the breast of her uniform and on the headrests of each seat.
Chuck looked around warily. He didnтАЩt recognize the logo, nor could he remember having gotten onto
a jet. The last place he remembered being was lying on his back in bed, holding very still, fighting
down feelings of depression and self-loathing. He had counted backwards from a hundred, as heтАЩd
been told to do. The last thing he recalled clearly, somewhere around counting down to seventy-two,
was a warm and floating sensation.
Chuck twined his fingers together and stretched his arms forward, popping the kink between his
shoulder blades. The whole jet was decorated in the same soft gray: the walls, the carpet, even the
ceiling. He looked around for his fellow passengers, but found that the capsule-shaped chamber was
empty except for the two of them. Was he the last to get off? How oddтАФwhere was he? He glanced
through the jet window, but outside it was dark. Instead, he got a glimpse of himself in the glass. The