Читать книгу Angel Of Doom - James Axler - Страница 3

A second brilliant sun had appeared, blazing white and hot

Edwards scrambled to his feet, standing on the front of the Manta. The machine pistol snapped down into his fist, ready to go into action, but the strange glowing disc wasn’t moving. He put on his shadow suit’s faceplate and hoped for the visor to screen and filter out the blinding light, as well as analyze the object in the sky.

The range was ten miles, and it was advancing quickly.

He activated his Commtact microphone. “Guys, wherever you are…”

Nothing. No response, not even static. He turned his gaze back to the sky. For all the polarization of the lenses, he couldn’t make out a detail of the blazing comet looming ever closer. But in the space of fifteen seconds, it had closed to nine miles. He couldn’t get details about the shape of the object, only its range, and there was no guarantee that was right.

Edwards turned to open the cockpit, but the command signal to remotely open the canopy was also jammed.

He was in a complete blackout.