"David Brin - Thor Meets Captain America" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brin David)

Labrador, just to keep one alien creature occupied while four subs tried to sneak in through
the back door.
"Thank you. I'd better tell Major Marlowe and my demolition team."
He turned to go, but was stopped by an outsize hand on his shoulder, holding him gently
but with steely adamancy.
"Thou must know something more," the being called Loki said in a low, resonant voice.
Impossibly white teeth shone in his gleaming smile.
"Thou wilt have a passenger in going ashore."
Chris blinked. The plan had been for only his team and their commando escort... Then he
saw the pallor of dread on Commander Lewis' face deeper than any mere fear of death.
Chris turned back to stare at the fur-clad giant. "You..." he exhaled.
Loki nodded. "A small change in plans. I will not accompany the undersea vessels, as they
attempt to break out through the Skagerrak. I will go ashore with thee, instead, to Gotland."
Chris kept his face blank. In all honesty, there was no way this side of Heaven that he or
Lewis could stop this creature from doing whatever it wanted. One way or the other, the
Allies were about to lose their only Aesir friend in the long war against the Nazi plague.
If the word "friend" ever really described Loki, who had appeared one day on the tarmac of
a Scottish airfield during the final evacuation of Britain, accompanied by eight small, bearded
beings carrying boxes. He had led them up to the nearest amazed officer and imperiously
commandeered the prime minister's personal plane to take him the rest of the way to
America.
Perhaps an armored battalion might have stopped him. Combat reports proved that Aesir
could be killed, if you were very lucky, pounding one hard and fast enough. But when the local
commander realized what was happening, he decided to take a chance.
Loki had proven his worth many times, since that day ten years ago.
Till now, that is.
"If you insist." He told the Aes.
"I do. It is my will."
"Then I'll go explain it to Marlowe. Excuse me, please."
He backed away a few meters first, then turned to go.
As he sloshed away, that glittering stare seemed to follow him, past the moaning dwarf,
past O'Leary's ever-sardonic smile, down the narrow, dank passageway lined with strapped-in
marines, all the way to the sabot launching tubes.
Voices were hushed. All the young men spoke English, but only half were North Americans.
Their shoulder patches -- Free French, Free Russian, Free Irish, German Christian -- were
muted in the dim light, but the mixed accents were unmistakable, as well as the way they
stroked their weapons and the gleam Chris caught sight of in several pairs of eyes.
These were the sort that volunteered for suicide missions, the type common in the world
after thirteen years of horrible war -- that had little or nothing left to lose.
Major Marlowe had come back to supervise the loading of the landing boats. He did not
take Chris's news well.
"Loki wants to come along? To Gotland?" He spat. "The bastard's a spy. I knew it all the
time!"
Chris shook his head. "He's helped us a hundred ways, John. Why, just by accompanying
Ike to Tokyo, and convincing the Japanese --"
"Big deal! We'd already beaten the Japs!" The big marine clenched his fist, hard. "Like we'd
have crushed Hitler, if these monsters hadn't arrived, like Satan's curse, out of nowhere.
"And now he's lived among us for ten years, observing our methods, our tactics and
technology, the only real advantage we had left!"
Chris grimaced. How could he explain it to Marlowe? The marine officer had never visited