"Ian Douglas - Inheritance Trilogy 1 - Star Strike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglas Ian)

“You have just had your first fifteen minutes of Marine indoctrination and training…an ancient and
hallowed tradition we refer to as ‘boot camp.’ Each of you has volunteered for this. Presumably, that
means each of you wants to be here. I certainly understand that desire. The Marines are the best there
are, no question about it.

“However, I want each and every one of you to take a moment and think very hard about this decision
you’ve made. Behind you is the shuttle that brought you down from the Arean Ring. If for any reason you
are having second thoughts, I want you to turn around right now and plant your ass back on board that
shuttle. You will be flown back up to the Arean Ring, where you can retrieve your civilian clothing, have
a nice hot meal, and make arrangements to go home. No questions asked. No one will think the less of
you.” He paused. “How about it? Any takers?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Garroway sensed movement down the line to his left. Someone was
wavering…and then he heard the sound of footsteps in the sand, moving toward the rear. He didn’t dare
look, however. The formation was still at attention, and he had a feeling that if he turned his head to look,
Warhurst’s sudden nice-guy persona would vanish as abruptly as it had begun.

“Smart boy,” Warhurst said, nodding. “Anybody else? This will be your last chance. If you miss that
shuttle…then for the next sixteen weeks you will be mine.”

Garroway thought he heard someone else leave the line, but he wasn’t sure. He knew he wasn’t going to
quit, not now. He was going to be a Marine….

“Handley!” Warhurst snapped, addressing one of the recruits. “Eyes front!”

“Sir! Aye, aye, sir!”

A long silence passed. Warhurst stood before them, his head down, as if he were listening to something.
Then he looked up. “I want each of you to open your primary inputs. Full immersion.”

Garroway did so. His neurocranial link implants opened to a local feed coming down from the Martian
Ring. It was coded, but each had received the appropriate clearances up at the receiving station.

There was a moment’s mental static, followed by the always odd feeling of standing in two places at
once…

…and then Garroway was standing on another world.

It was night there, as it was at Noctis Labyrinthus. It was also raining, though the link was not transmitting
the feel of the rain on his skin, or the bluster of the wind.
He could see, however, a formation of Marine landing vehicles skimming in a few meters above the surf
and spray of a beach, their black hulls shimmering as they phased into full solidity, their variform shells
unfolding into landing configuration. Lightning flared…or perhaps it was a plasma bolt fired from the
shore. It was tough sorting out exactly what was happening, because there was a great deal of noise and
movement.

One of the landing vehicles crumpled with nightmare suddenness in midair, flame engulfing its gull-winged
form, the wreckage tumbling out of the sky and slamming into the surf in a crashing fountain of spray and
steam. Plasma bolt, Garroway thought. An instant later, a beam of dazzling incandescence struck down
out of the black overcast, a white flash starkly illuminating the beach and the incoming formation as it