"William C. Dietz - The Prison Planet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dietz William)

audio intercept, power-assisted musculature, and the full intelligence of a female human with a
tested IQ of 125. Had she wished to, Marla could have popped the leather muzzle, and ripped Zit's
throat regardless of the nerve lash. While emotionally satisfying, she knew it would also be
pointless. The other guards would simply hunt her down and kill her. So Zit would live.
Sublimating her anger, Marla forced herself to adopt a submissive posture and whined in the back
of her throat. Though she was not really a dog, acting like one often worked to her advantage.
Even when people knew Marla was a cyborg, she still looked like a dog, and no matter how hard they
tried, they couldn't resist the urge to treat her the way she appeared. Zit was no exception.
"That's better bitch," Zit said nodding his satisfaction. "Now get your miserable flea-
bitten ass out into the corridor."
Marla circled around Zit, her tail held between her legs, trying to exit the cell without
giving him with an opening. It didn't work. As she scurried through the door he delivered a
vicious kick to her left rear haunch. Limping, she preceded him down the gleaming corridor,
glancing over her shoulder now and then to make sure she stayed well ahead of him. Meanwhile he
provided occasional directions, such as "Right, bitch," and "Left, bitch."
Before long they left the ship via a guarded lock, and entered a shuttle. Marla was spared
the ritual with the brass plate. Zit and his fellow guards assumed anything that looked like a dog
couldn't read.
Marla's heart sank as she scurried down the next corridor. This was it, the final trip
down to some godforsaken prison planet to spend the rest of her life—looking like a dog. Double
punishment, it seemed to her.
She stopped in front of a closed hatch. In spite of her many special abilities, there were
some things Marla just couldn't do. Opening hatches with her paws was one of them. Zit caught up,
opened the hatch, and then kicked her into the shuttle's cargo hold. It was his last chance to
demonstrate his superiority.
As she spun around, Marla was dimly aware of the two men, but most of her attention was
centered on killing Zit. The last kick was one too many. Pain, plus her frustration and fear,
combined to override the logical part of her mind. Gone were her good intentions and determination
to maintain a low profile. She popped the muzzle and snapped at the closest part of Zit's anatomy.
As luck would have it Zit's foot was coming forward in another kick. Marla's power-assisted jaws
closed around his ankle and sliced through it like a knife through warm butter.
As his right foot hit the deck with a soft thump, Zit began to scream, spraying hot blood
over Marla's face as he toppled over backwards.
Murphy pulled his stunner, flipped the setting to max, and fired. It hit Marla like a blow
from an invisible club. She dropped like a rock as all her systems locked into a spasm.
Renn watched in amazement as Murphy calmly holstered his stunner, hit an alarm button on
the nearest bulkhead, and proceeded to kick the dog's stunned body. Renn reacted without conscious
thought. He jumped on Murphy's back, wrapped one arm around the guard's thick neck, and squeezed
with all his strength. It was a waste of time. Reaching over his shoulder, Murphy ripped Renn
loose, and proceeded to beat him senseless. Fortunately, the environmental suit absorbed a good
deal of the punishment. Murphy was still pounding away when the ship's medics arrived and went to
work on Zit.
Marla was conscious. Her nonorganic components had served to protect her brain and spinal
cord from the full effects of the beam. It should have knocked her out. Still, she couldn't move.
All she could do was watch Murphy beat Renn's unconscious body and curse him from the bottom of
her heart.
Having stopped the worst of Zit's bleeding, the medics took a moment to haul Murphy off
Renn's motionless body, and tried to calm him down.
Marla looked Renn over. There was blood all over his face, but his chest continued to rise
and fall. At least he was alive.