"Michael A. Stackpole - Dark Conspiracy 02 - Evil Ascending" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stackpole Michael A)

The scream of utter frustration ripping through her
brain shocked her out of stasis. She felt a jolt run through
her body, then it and the scream dwindled to a tingle at her
spine. That sensation proved unsettling enough that, for
a moment or two, she succeeded in fighting off her body's
desire to slip back into somnolent bliss.
Where?
Why?
Her mind slowly clawed its way to consciousness. In an
instant she knew exactly where she was. Snippets of
memories, all involving shadowy figures bearing her
downward through dark tunnels, strobed through her
brain. Deeper and deeper they had taken her, just has her
mind had retreated deep into itself, to keep her safe. Safe,
and so I could prepare.
As she recalled the need for preparation and the reason
behind it, she felt the tingling in her spine shift to a cold chill
clutching her with sharp talons. At first she imagined it a
reaction to the memory, but then she heard faint echoes
of sinister laughter. The laughter built slowly and she
knew, instinctively, that had the creature causing it not
been multiple dimensions from her, she would have been
forced to return to stasis to preserve her sanity.
It is him. He endures, even after this much time. The
scream, she realized, had come from far closer than the
laughter. That was the reason it had been able to cut
through all the mental shields she had created to protect
herself. He was here, in this dimension, but he was turned
away. He was defeated. How is that possible?
She forced her eyes open and waited impatiently for
them to focus so she could read the chronometric display
above the life-signs monitor in her stasis capsule. Glowing
green numerals reported time as both objective and
subjective, with the latter number causing her more
concern than the former. I have been in stasis for the
equivalent of 3.27144 life-measurement units. My mis-
sion, my preparation, was projected to take 4.978831
LMUs. I am not yet ready.
She looked at the first number again. She frowned,
forcing her brain through the rigors of mathematics.
Twenty-six terrestrial LMUs have passed since I was
placed in stasis. Have they progressed so much that they
can hold him at bay? Has the danger passed? Is it safe?
The laughter drifted in and out of her mind like snatches
of music borne by the wind. At times she heard it with a
deafening clarity, then it faded until she wondered if it had
ever been there at all. The anger in it slowly drained until
she sensed an almost paternal pride or a begrudged
respect in it. Whoever had driven him off had earned his
attention and, with that, she knew, came fearful, crushing