"Jerry Pournelle - 01 - Janissaries" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pournelle Jerry)

couldnтАЩt even run.
Something caught his attention. Rick looked up. тАЬWhat the hell?тАЭ He pointed
toward the ink-black sky. A bright light moved among the stars. It seemed to
come closer, and it made no sound at all.
тАЬWhere did Labon get aircraft?тАЭ Rick demanded.
Parsons shrugged. тАЬFrom the Cubans, I sup-poseтАФRick, that is no aircraft.тАЭ
He was right. The silent light moved closer, and in strange patterns like no
airplane Rick had ever seen before. There was only the one light; it was
impossi-ble to make out the size or shape of the craft, but it blotted out stars. Too
many stars. He realized with a shiver that it was big. It moved too fast and turned
in weird patterns, and it moved in total silence. He felt the hair rising on the back
of his neck.
It came lower, and a bright light stabbed down to illuminate the crest of the hill.
There was enough light reflected upward to show what the tropical night had
hidden.
тАЬA goddamn flying saucer!тАЭ one of the troops shouted. There was a shot.
тАЬHold your fire!тАЭ Rick screamed.
Parsons looked at him curiously.
тАЬThatтАЩs nothing of LabonтАЩs. Why shoot at it? AndтАФIтАЩm not sure we can hurt it. . .
тАЬIt is landing,тАЭ Parsons said.
тАЬOf course.тАЭ Rick felt an inane urge to giggle. Why not? he thought. WeтАЩre
defeated, surrounded, every one of us marked for a firing squad within the week,
so why not flying saucers too? He felt light-headed, and it was not just the wine.
He was glad that he hadnтАЩt tried the local equivalent of pot.
Flying saucers werenтАЩt real. They werenтАЩt even science fiction. The girl he liked
to think of as his mistressтАФhe knew sheтАЩd have resented the label, and heтАЩd never
used it in her hearing, but he liked to think of himself as a man whoтАЩd once had a
mistressтАФhad been interested in science fiction, and had got Rick to read some of

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the classics; but neither she nor her friends тАЬbelieved inтАЭ flying saucers.
The thing settled on the hilltop. It was very large, as big as a 707, and it wasnтАЩt
precisely saucer-shaped, although seen edge on at a distance it might give that
appearance. It was more like half a football sliced lengthwise, nearly flat at the
bottom. It did nothing for a moment. Then a bright orange rec-tangle opened in
the center of one side.
Sergeant Elliot caught up to him. Other troopers crawled into the CP trench.
тАЬWhat do we do, Captain?тАЭ Elliot demanded.
тАЬKeep the men at their posts. There are still a thousand Cubans out there,тАЭ Rick
said. He studied the bright opening. Nothing happened. The only sounds were
mutters from his own troops, and no oneтАФor no thingтАФcame out. тАЬTake over,тАЭ
he told Parsons. тАЬIтАЩm going to have a look.тАЭ
Parsons spread his hands in a wide gesture, a typical French shrug. тАЬYou are mad.
But I will go with youтАФтАЭ
тАЬNo.тАЭ Rick stared at the ship again. For a moment he felt rising hope. Could this
be an experimental plane, something kept secret by the CIA and sent to get him
out? The Agency had got them into this mess and would be embarrassed if they