"Steve Perry - Aliens 03 - The Female War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Steven)

Charlene Adcox answered her door wearing a pale green kimono tied loosely at the waist. She was
short and almost boyishly thin. Her close-cropped hair and sharp features made her look oddly masculine
in spite of the gown she wore. Billie caught a scent of perfume, light and flowery.

"Fem Adcox?"
 "Yes."

"My name is Billie. Could I speak to you for a moment?"

"Concerning ... ?" Adcox smiled politely.

Billie took a deep breath. "It's about the dreams," she said.

Adcox paused, then moved back from the door, her smile gone.

Billie stepped in. The room was larger than her own, decorated with Japanese prints and sparse,
simple furniture. Adcox motioned to a futon for Billie to sit down, and seated herself across from her on a
small wooden bench.

"How did you get my name?"

Billie hesitated. The psych files were classified, but an elaborate lie would eventually be found out
by anyone whose help they enlisted. "There are others having the same dream," she said. "Some of us
rascaled the psychiatric files."

Adcox nodded. "Okay," she said. The young lieutenant seemed more relieved than anything else,
which Billie understood. "How many others?"

"We can't tell for sure. Upwards of fifty, at least. They're all the sameтАФthey're transmissions, not
dreams. The aliens are telepathic or empathic, whatever. It ain't coincidence."

Adcox offered her a weak smile. "No, it doesn't sound like it. What do you want from me?"

Billie pulled an info sphere from her pocket. "You can tell me where you think she is," she said.
"There are several possibilities described in these files. Only a few of us seem to be able to see location in
the dreams, and you're one of them. We want to find her."

Adcox tensed slightly. 'To kill her?"

"Yes. Her and her children."

Adcox reached out and took the sphere from Billie. "Call me Char," she said.



Ripley wrapped the towel around her neck and padded naked to her bed. She stretched her long
body across the pad, toes pointing and arms over her head. The interview with John Chin had gone well.
He was an architect, one of the linear-minded dreamers, and had agreed to look at their map. Chin
wasn't a fighting man, and she doubted he would volunteer to come with them when the time cameтАФbut