"Charles Ingrid - The Sand Wars 04 - Alien Salute" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ingrid Charles)

movement, he fell into a drill routine.

The armor moved with him supplely, far more gracefully than most
would suspect looking at its rigid links, but that was part of its effectiveness.
The rest depended a great deal on the man wearing it, for the structure took
care and maintenance and a man was only as good as his mechanical ability
in the field.

Bogie said suddenly, in his undervoice which sounded like rocks
tumbling over one another in a deep-running stream, *I can give you this.*

Jack had hit the power vault before hearing Bogie, and as the memory hit
him, he doubled over and the suit slammed into the hold flooring, but Jack
barely felt it, for he was burning inside his mind.

Fire swept across a verdant world. Peace and healing disrupted in the
middle of the night. The skies vibrated as warships came down, and their
weapons struck. A firestorm sweeping across Claron, charring all in its
path—his breath caught in his throat. Fear again. The suit, his escape, his
tumbling in freefall in deep space without hope of ever being caught… the
horror of knowing this memory came courtesy of, not the Thraks, but
warring factions within the Dominion itself where he should have had no
enemy.
 "Bogie!"

*Jack.*

"Stop it," Jack ground out, his body curled tightly in pain, his temples
throbbing, his gut sucked to his backbone in the nauseating panic of endless
freefall.

As abruptly, the memory left.

Jack caught his breath first. Sweat dripped off his forehead. He had no
idea the memories he'd asked for would be vivid recreations of what he had
gone through. Before he could say anything else, Bogie said, *Perhaps this
will be better.*

He was swept away again…

Dust motes swirled in the air, and he sneezed as he leaned over a row of
greens, the sound of the automatic harvester droning in the background.
The sky was the color of his mother's eyes, brilliant yet everchanging blue,
even to the clouds which wisped across. The dirt gave up the smell of
growing things, leafy greens hybridized from what had been collard greens
on old Earth, Home World, but which Jack was just used to seeing heaped
up in his mother's crockery, steaming under butter as greens. He liked them
well enough. They were a staple product of his parents' farm. Jack preferred
the orchard though he could not climb in any of the trees except for the
windbreaks.