"Robert Thurston - Falcon Guard" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thurston Robert)

hard, with a sense that she might not ever be able to swallow again. Then she
swallowed once more, just to prove it was not true. Joanna had always been
stubborn, whether in jeopardy or at ease.

She realized now that she had no more time to wait through the minuscule gains
won with each slight move of her 'Mech. She would be dead long before she
could get to good air.

FALCON GUARD 11

Setting the controls at high, Joanna attempted to maneuver the BattleMech
forward with all the force the control systems could generate. At first
nothing happened. The right side of the 'Mech seemed completely trapped, so
she concentrated on its left. Urging the machine's left shoulder forward, she
discovered that it would move slightly, no more than a mild spasm compared to
a human shoulder's muscular convulsion. But when she repeated the action, the
shoulder gave way more. In successive attempts, she sensed the shoulder's
jerking motion, like a warrior punching in a hand-to-hand battle. The 'Mech's
right side was still wedged too tightly for the whole machine to break free.
Her only hope was in the jerky thrusts of the left side. Frantically, she
continued to shove the left shoulder forward until finally she saw some of the
debris in her viewport move. It was a slight shift, but enough to tell her she
still had a chance.

Though the cockpit was stifling and almost airless, Joanna kept at her
desperate actions until daylight suddenly showed through on the left side of
the viewport. She could still not call up a computer diagnostic of the 'Mech's
internal condition on her secondary screen, but she knew the odds were good
that the area beyond the cockpit hatchway was now clear.

At the hatchway, she yanked on the manual release lever for the hatch, but the
plate did not budge. The heat inside the cockpit was now almost unbearable.
Forcing herself to calm, she tried once more to pop the hatch, which seemed to
loosen but still did not open. With two hands now, first she pushed in on the
control, hoping to release the pressure, then with a lifting motion, she
pulled back once more. She tried this several more times, even though it took
all her strength. Then came a sound that was music to her ears, a soap that
might be the hatch lock releasing. Carefully now, gently, she continued to
pull, side to side this time, gradually opening a crack wide enough through
which she could wedge her body into the rocks and dirt beyond it. Some of the
rocks fell inward, onto the cockpit's metal flooring, creating an odd clanging
sound.

Wondering if she might have gotten enough movement from the 'Mech to free it
from the heaviest layer of rocks and dirt, Joanna tried again to move the
machine, but it

12 Robert Thurston

did not budge. She was panting, the breathable air nearly gone. Clawing