"Linnea Sinclair - How I Spent My Summer Vacation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sinclair Linnea)

instead of the fact that they'd just materialized out of thin air.

"Your tire?" the woman asked. She had long dark hair pulled to one side in a
thick braid. And interesting bright blue skin.

Really. Bright blue.

"We have no request to reclaim any mechanical units, Captain," the blue
skinned woman said. "The recall-to-duty order specifically states only
yourself."
Recall to duty? I'm a schoolteacher. Thirty-one years old. Never been in the
military. Had no intention of enlisting now.

"I think you've got the wrong person." I backed up a step. Make that two.

Lady Blue turned to Tall Guy. "She doesn't remember. The neural memory lock
didn't dissolve on schedule."

The only thing on my schedule was a student's graduation party. I was on my
way to be part of the celebration when the tire blew. I glanced quickly over
my shoulder. My car was about five feet behind me. Close enough for me to jump
in and peel off down the road, flat or no flat.

Tall Guy raised his hand to a metallic badge on the front of his pajamas.
"Away Team to bridge. We have a problem."

"Solve it on board," came the disembodied reply.

"Acknowledged. Three to beam up."

Beam up? I didn't even know anyone named Scotty.

My vision suddenly hazed and I heard that odd buzzing noise again. Then the
orange grove turned white and glittery. And disappeared.

When the sparkling fog cleared from my eyes, a group straight out of a casting
call for a Star Trek production stood before me. I blinked and looked at Lady
Blue, who had me firmly by the elbow.

"Holy shit," I said. I really did.

"This way, Captain."

This way turned out to be a long room with an oval conference table in the
center. Eight chairs. I was none too gently guided to a high-backed one at the
far end. Something stung my right arm. A man in a lab coat held a fat silver
cylinder just below my shoulder. "Hey! Just what the hell do youтАФ"

My words halted when I saw the windows behind him. Floor to ceiling. Eight of
them. And through the windows, the same kind of deep space starfield that I