"C. S. Friedman - Coldfire 2 - When True Night Falls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friedman C. S)

The botanist opened his hand; the knife fell beside his
feet. "I was going to cut them loose," he said. "I brought
them here so they wouldn't get hurt . . . Commander."

Case shook his head sharply. "You forget that we were
here. We heard you. I give you the lifeblood of Terra-"

He stopped. Stared. Through the eyes of a man, into the
madness that lay beyond.

And he knew.
 He knew.

Oh, my God . . .

The sky to the east filled with light, with fire; he
wheeled about to face the source of it, and the sound and
the force of the explosion knocked the breath from his body
as they struck. Flames were roaring upward from a point
some five miles east of them, lighting the sky with a
reflected blaze a thousand times brighter than lightning. He
staggered back in despair as the hot wind buffeted him,
laden with the smell of burning. "You fool!" he hissed.
"You goddamn fool!"

The ship. He could see it in his mind's eye, not the proud
ceramic shell of their landing capsule but a ravaged,
blackened husk, a cloud of shrapnel and ash where there
had once been a wealth of computerware, lab equipment,
bio-storage . . . and at the foot of the flames a sea of hot
slag, a molten lake which was quickly dissolving all their
hopes and their memories and their dreams . . . all their
heritage. All gone now. All gone.

Eyes squeezing forth hot tears, he managed to regain his
feet. A burning dust had begun to fall, fragments of metal
and plastic charred black by that terrible fire. He shielded
his eyes with one hand so that he could see where Ian
Casca knelt - his hands clasped as if in prayer, a look of
terrible ecstasy on his face - then he brought his gun hard
about and fired. Once, twice, as many times as there were
bullets, until the trigger clicked futilely against an empty
chamber. And even then he kept firing. The fury in him had
a life of its own, and even the sight of Ian's chest and skull
peppered with bloody holes could not quell the storm of
despair that was raging inside him.

At last it was Lise who took hold of his arm, who forced
the gun from his shaking fingers. Her yellow hair was
dusted with ash, and blood smeared one cheek where a