Читать книгу Battlespace - Ian Douglas, Matthew Taylor - Страница 5

“Of course they’re friendly!” Paul replied. “All the legends about gods from Sirius emphasized that they were friendly, taught humans how to plant crops, that kind of thing. They’re just coming out to greet us!”

The shipboard alert clamored in their minds. Now hear this, now hear this, intoned the voice of the Marine detachment’s resident AI. Battle stations, battle stations. All hands man your battle stations.

A precaution only, she thought. Here, almost nine light-years from what was known and understood, it paid to be doubly cautious.

“Damn,” she said. “I sure hope you’re right.”

She began to disconnect from the noumenal feed. Battle stations for the Marines was in the squad bay aft, suited and armed, ready to repel an attack on the ship or to deploy planetside in their TAL-S Dragonflies to meet an enemy. There was no planetside here, and the golden ship, or whatever it was, had made no hostile moves as yet, had it?

Just a precaution … just a precaution. …

Then something made her hesitate, to look again at the approaching golden vessel.

And then she felt her soul and mind being dragged from her body. …

She began screaming. …