"Harry Harrison - Deathworld 3" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

A hundred meters from the fence there was a slight dip, followed by a
rising billow, an irregularity in the ground that could not be seen from the
camp. Talenc trudged to the top of the hillock and gaped down at the group of
mounted men who were concealed behind it.

He sprang back instantly, but not fast enough. The nearest rider thrust
his long lance through Talenc's calf, twisted the barbed point in the wound
and dragged him over the edge of the embankment. Talenc pulled up his gun as
he fell, but another lance drove it from his hand and pierced his palm,
pinning it to the ground. It was all over very quickly, one second, two
seconds, and the shock of pain was just striking him when he tried to reach
for his radio. A third lance through his wrist pinioned that arm.

Spread-eagled, wounded, and dazed by shock, Guard Lieutenant Talenc
opened his mouth to cry aloud, but even this was denied him. The nearest rider
leaned over casually and thrust a short saber between Talenc's teeth, deep
into the roof of his mouth, and his voice was stilled forever. His leg jerked
as he died, rustling a clump of grass, and that was the only sound that marked
his passing. The riders gazed down upon him silently, then turned away with
complete lack of interest. Their mounts, though they stirred uneasily, were
just as silent.

"What is all this about?" the officer of the guard asked, buttoning on
his weapon belt.

"It's Lieutenant Talenc, sir. He went out there. Said he saw something,
and then went over a rise. I haven't seen him since, maybe ten, fifteen
minutes now, and I can't raise him on the radio."

"I don't see how he can get into any trouble out there," the officer
said, looking out at the darkening plain. "Still-we had better bring him in.
Sergeant." The man stepped forward and saluted. "Take a squad out and find
Lieutenant Talenc."

They were professionals, signed on for thirty years with John Company,
and they expected only trouble from a newly opened planet. They spread out as
skirmishers and moved warily away across the plain.

"Anything wrong?" the metallurgist asked, coming out of the drill hut
with an ore sample on a tray.

"I don't know . . ." the officer said, just as the riders swept out of
the concealed gully and around both sides of the knoll.

It was shocking. The guardsmen, trained, deadly and well-armed, were
overrun and destroyed. Some shots were fired, but the riders swung low on
their long-necked mounts, keeping the animals' thick bodies between themselves
and the guns. There was the twang of suddenly released bowstrings and the
lances dipped and killed. The riders rolled over the guardsmen and rode on,
leaving nine twisted bodies behind them.