"Linnea Sinclair - Gambit" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sinclair Linnea)

her heart thudded against her ribs. "I'm just blue-line rated. No one in any of the big
transglomerates would even wipe their feet on a blue-liner, let alone talk to me."
He seemed not to hear her. "Perhaps you'll be in a more cooperative frame of mind
when we get to Maros Prime."
Maros Prime. Her heart sank. She knew their present coordinates, knew
approximately how long it would take a ship like the Abaris to return to its home
base. It was time she didn't have to spare.
She had, at best, a little less than thirty-six hours. SheтАЩd received the information
from one of the dying minds on the Rachella. Not a Lifarian mind. A T'Sri. The
Lifarian ship's distress call had been blaring for over ten hours by the time the
Dreamweaver was able to respond. Ty had wandered through the ship's dim
corridors, dazed and sickened by the carnage, the mutilated bodies. But one body, a
T'Sri officer obviously caught unawares by an explosion, had still been alive. Barely.
She would never have touched the woman, voluntarily, but she'd stumbled over a
tangle of conduit and shredded bulkhead. Her hand splayed against a broad ridged
back, still warm. The mental contact had been painful, almost revolting. But what she
discovered made it all worthwhile.
Within three days Emperor Pajtok would pass through the Nahil quadrant in his
Royal Convoy. Heavily guarded, it would no doubt detect and react to the presence
of a Council or Jhen ship well in advance. But her own small freighter, with the
drives showing cold, would arouse no such suspicion.
"I'm...I'm a little tired, Captain." She let all the strain she'd been feeling come through
her voice. "And there's nothing more we can discuss. So if you don't mind, I'd like
to go back-"
"Mister Jhen-Daray will escort you to a cabin. There's no need for you to remain in
the brig."
Guard me is more like it, she thought as the muscular officer accompanied her into
the lift. But her escort was the least of her problems. Getting off the Abaris was her
major one. And one that would take considerable effort.
She hoped she was up to it. It'd been a while, and she knew she was out of practice.

-2-
It could be worse, she thought for the second time in a few hours. She surveyed the
small cabin. There was a decent-sized bed, a private тАШfresher, a built-in work area
and a small kitchenette. In truth, it was nicer than the cabins on the Grindley or the
Double Deuce. And it was definitely preferable to the standard brig.
"The captain hopes you find the guest quarters to your liking," Jhen-Daray said. He
lacked Jhen-ArisтАЩs commanding presence, almost innate elegance. Though he wasnтАЩt
bad looking. She judged him to be about her age, just over thirty.
Obviously, he'd been judging her, too. But only in small glances. Not like his
captain's bold stare.
"If there's anything that you need..."
A laser pistol or sonic rifle might do just fine, she thought, but shook her head. "Not
right now, thanks."
She waited until the door irised behind him before turning her attention to the
computer. "Computer on," she said softly, wondering what security devices the
room held and who, if anyone, watched her.
"Ident code or retinal scan?" responded a tinny autovoice.
"What the hell. Code." She settled into the chair at the console and tried several of
her codes from the Dreamweaver. Stranger things....