"Arcady And Boris Strugatsky. Prisoners of Power" - читать интересную книгу автора

Rada not only likes you, but - well, she loves you. When you disappeared,
she cried the whole time; in fact she even got sick the first week. She's an
attractive, practical girl and has many admirers. I don't know how you feel
about her, but let me give you a piece of advice. Forget all this nonsense.
It's not for you; it will foul you up, destroy you, and you'll wreck the
lives of many innocent people. And all for nothing. Go back to your
mountains, find your own people. Even if your head doesn't remember, your
heart will tell you where your home is. No one will look for you there.
You'll settle down and put your life in order. Then, come back for Rada and
you'll both be very happy. Maybe by then we'll have finished off the
Khontis. We'll clamp down even harder on Pandeya. Peace will come eventually
and we'll begin to live like people."
If he were from the mountains, thought Maxim, he probably would take
Guy's advice. He would return to his homeland and live peacefully with his
young bride and forget about all the complicated problems here. Hell no, how
could he forget about them? He knew what he would do: he would organize a
defense system in his homeland that would be so effective that the Creators'
officials wouldn't dare stick their noses over the frontier. And if the
legionnaires dared to come near them, he would fight them on his own
doorstep until he had wiped out every last one.
"The only problem is that I'm not from the mountains. So that takes
care of that," thought Maxim. "My work is here, and I don't intend to sit
around and do nothing. And Rada? Well, if she really cares for me, she'll
understand. She must. Damn it, I don't want to think about it now. This is
no time to get involved."
Something was happening in the building, but he was so caught up in his
thoughts that he was not aware of it. Someone was walking along the
corridor; someone was whispering behind the wall. Suddenly there was a
commotion in the corridor and a desperate cry: "Mac!" It was Rada. Then,
abrupt silence - as if someone had put a hand over her mouth. He leaped to
his feet and rushed to the window, but it was too late. The door flew open
and Rada appeared in the doorway, her face drained white. There was a
familiar barracks odor and the stomping of hobnailed boots. Rada was shoved
into the room. Behind her crowded men in black jump suits. Pandi trained his
gun on him, and Captain Chachu, his usual cunning and clever self, stood
next to Rada. With one hand he held her by the shoulder; with the other he
jammed his pistol into her back.
"Don't move!" he shouted. "One move and I shoot!"
Maxim froze. It was too late.
"Hold out your hands!" ordered Chachu. "Corporal, handcuffs! Two sets!
Get a move on, massaraksh!' '
Pandi, whom Maxim had tossed around many times during training
exercises, approached him cautiously, unhooking a heavy chain from his belt.
His ferocity had quickly changed to concern for his safety.
"Don't try anything," he warned Mac. "One wrong move and Captain Chachu
will give it to your girifriend."
He snapped the handcuffs on Maxim's wrists, then squatted and tied his
feet. Maxim prepared to break out, but he had underestimated the captain,
who refused to release Rada. Together they descended the stairs, together
they climbed into the truck, with the captain's gun constantly at Rada's