Читать книгу Blindfold - Kevin J. Anderson, Брайан Герберт - Страница 30

Down in the detention levels, Troy Boren lay motionless on his hard bunk. He kept his eyes closed, willing himself to sleep so that the time might pass more quickly. But his stomach roiled with anxiety, his dry throat burned, and thoughts whirled behind his eyelids, making him squirm with the possibilities of a worst-case scenario. But it wouldn’t happen. Truthsayers didn’t make mistakes.

He had no idea how many days had passed since his arrest. The guards had taken his personal chronometer; apparently they were afraid he might attempt some sort of bizarre high-tech sabotage with its tiny components….

Though hunger gnawed at his stomach, he felt no real appetite, doubting he could keep anything down if he bothered to eat. The sol-pols had given him only a limited amount of time to pick at his food, then they had taken it away.

When the elite guard switched off the confinement field, Troy was startled to find that he had indeed dozed off, despite his anxiety. He sat up, blinking bleary eyes. His shoulders and back crackled with stiffness from the uncomfortable pallet.

“Got your thoughts in order?” the guard said gruffly, his eyes hidden behind the uniform’s tough goggles.

“I’m ready,” Troy said, hauling himself off the bunk.

“Do you have a guilty conscience?” the helmeted guard asked with a slight smile in his voice.

Troy couldn’t tell if the guard was mocking him or not. “I don’t have anything to worry about.” He smoothed down his formless prison outfit.

This time the uniformed man did laugh. “If you say so.”

Troy followed him numbly out of his cell. The metal deck plates were cold against his bare feet, and he longed to be standing under the warmth of the sun again. At least he could look forward to that part.