"Foster, Alan Dean - Alien Nation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

to the concrete tunnel.
The alien turned to glare in their direction, the red and blue glow coming
from outside throwing him into sudden sharp relief. Then he turned, and
without another glance in the direction of the fallen detective, jumped
over the prone, helpless body and sprinted off down the tunnel.
Sykes listened to the fading footsteps as he fought to get back on his
feet. He was still stunned, his vision still
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unfocused. He fought to rise. Damned if the bluecoats would find him
moaning on the floor.
Then an alien face was gazing close into his own.
Without hesitating or thinking, he brought his right fist up and around
with all his might. He couldn't have been that bad off because his punch
landed square in the center of that alien visage. Caught by surprise, the
staring Newcomer tumbled to the ground.
Don't let him get up, Sykes found himself thinking frantically. Don't
give him a chance to get up. He rose and tottered forward, trying to
position his right foot for a crippling kick.
Only to find himself grabbed from behind and held tight as he tried to
attack. He half turned in the restraining arms, relaxed only when he saw
that beneath its blue cap this new face was wholly human. The golden
badge riding the crest of the cap gleamed in the bad light like an Aztec
relic.
"Whoa, whoa, hold it! Take it easy!" the cap's owner was telling him.
Sound advice, Sykes mused. Useful advice. Not to mention welcome.
Suddenly he was conscious of how much running he'd done, of how exhausted
he really was. Some of the tension drained out of him.
The uniform was still talking, but not to him. Instead, he was gazing
with concern at the alien still on the ground.
"You okay?"
Easier for the eyes to focus when you stood still, Sykes told himself as
he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The aliens were tough
because they were big, but they were not invulnerable. The proof of that
was the one he'd just decked, lying sprawled on his ass ten feet away.
As Sykes looked on, the Newcomer sat up and recovered his cap. A
blue-badged cap, just like the one Sykes's restrainer was wearing.
At that point the detective realized he'd just flattened a fellow cop.
A Newcomer cop.
"I am all fight." His enunciation was very precise, with none of the
accent that afflicted so much Newcomer English. Whoever he was, he'd
spent a lot of time with voice tapes. The result was accentless, yes, but
somewhat stilted.
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He didn't look all right. A trickle of purplish blood was trailing from
his left nostril. The human cop studied his colleague for a moment, then
decided his medical needs weren't serious.
"I'd better call in." He stepped around Sykes and headed up the tunnel.
The alien watched him leave, then rose and came toward Sykes. The