"Charles Ingrid - The Sand Wars 05 - Return Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ingrid Charles)

A gray curtain of rain slanted across the parade grounds. It fell in spurts,
wind-driven, a chill rain soaking the funeral procession. Far lightning struck.
It illuminated the figures standing in the rain, and one of them lifted her
head, turning slightly toward the electric glow.

She stood to the side, flanked protectively by taller figures, her face veiled
from the cameras and audience, her thoughts her own. Thunder rumbled
outside the city.

"It's almost over," the man at her elbow murmured. He was bareheaded,
protected by the canopy overhead, a few wispy hairs of dark chestnut and
gray ruffling across the top of his head, his strong jaw sagging a bit, but his
eyes dark and full of challenge. He wore a dark blue overvest covering his
plain miner's jumpsuit, various pockets flat and smooth for once. A simple
cross hung against his chest and, unaware, he stroked it once before
reaching for the slender young woman's hand. "It's almost over," he
repeated.

She nodded. The veil shuddered with her movement. Then she said, "He
would have liked the storm. Jack liked rain."

St. Colin did not respond except to tighten his fingers about her chill
ones. Anything he might have said would have been drowned out by the
military display coming to attention before them.

"Right, HARCH! Company, present!"

The ground trembled under the weight of battle armor. Faces obscured
by their visors, the Dominion Knights filed past, their movements slow and
somber, Flexalink shining dully in the overcast light. In a ripple, they began
a salute to the woman in black and held it for their red and gold clad
emperor as they passed the dais.

She did not turn toward Pepys as the armor passed, but he watched her.
She knew it. She could feel the intenseness of his cat-green gaze upon the
back of her neck and the slimy feel of that other's gaze—Baadluster. She
leaned slightly toward Colin as if gaining strength from the man and
repelled by the emperor and minister.

"Company, HALT! About face!"
 The ground trembled one last time as the unit came about and stamped
to a halt. Raindrops danced and glistened off the multicolored armor,
massive and crude embodiments of the manpower it encased. Nowhere was
there white armor—only one man she'd ever known had worn white. The
veil across her face trembled. She could spot the few and scattered alien
presences within the armor as well as those posted within the gates. Thraks,
even here, even now. The corner of her mouth curled bitterly and she licked
lips gone suddenly dry.

Colin loosened his hand from hers and stepped forward. The funeral