"Barbara Karmazin - Blackbird 2 - Out of the Dark" - читать интересную книгу автора (Karmazin Barbara)

was ready to pull it over his face. He used the Velcro straps on the wall and hauled himself hand over
hand to the control console.

Tiny sat in the pilot's seat. Red and blue swirls flickered across his matte black selkieskin. Indio grinned.
Most people who didn't know Tiny always did a double take the first time they saw him wearing a
selkieskin because Tiny's natural skin color was so dark, you couldn't tell at first where his skin ended
and the selkieskin began.

Tiny flipped the microphone switch. “Got it. Code Six Three Nine in sector green.”

Indio slipped into the co-pilot's seat. The safety webbing deployed itself and secured him for flight.
Hopefully this would be a simple run with no casualties involved.

Tiny leaned forward and opened the mike again. “EMS Five Seven ready to go. Now.” He pressed the
override control button for the Traffic Control computer to take over and sat back.

Indio took a deep breath and sat back too. He hated this part. It didn't feel right having Traffic Control
do all the piloting by remote command while they sat there.

The engines engaged. A heavy three-g thrust slammed them against their seats like a giant's hand
pressing against their bodies. Indio gritted his teeth against the pressure and spoke. “What do we have?”

The ship lurched sideways and then leveled out under them. Tiny grimaced at the sudden change in
course. “A private yacht got holed. It's in lunar orbit right now. Four wounded, three dead and two
able-bodied ready to evacuate.”

Indio nodded as best as he could under the sickening twists and turns of their craft. “How many other
ambulances did they call up?”

Tiny flashed him a sardonic grin. “Three. You know how it is. The high rollers get full service.”

Indio snorted. “And at the end of our shift too.” He closed his eyes. If they were lucky, they'd finish this
job without having to go past their shift schedule. Two more hours and they'd be with Cait for another
long, glorious weekend. Just thinking about her sexy smile gave him a raging hard-on. Too bad bigamy
was illegal or they'd be a happily married triple instead of a plain old ‘ménage à trois.’

The console beeped. “EMS Five Seven stand by for grappling hooks. All living evacuees accounted for.
Your job designation is now Code Seven Two.”

Tiny reached over to the control panel, uncapped the switch for the magnetic-tipped grappling hooks
and deployed them. The hooks shot out, connecting them to the disabled ship while computerized arms
reeled them in as close as possible.

Indio slapped the release button on his chair. The safety webbing retracted itself. He pulled at the top of
the selkieskin bunched around his neck and let it flow over his face. Thin, flexible pseudopods inserted
themselves into his mouth, nostrils and ears. Oxygenated air, converted by the symbiote from the water
pouch on his back, flowed into his lungs.

The skin sealed itself over the top of his scalp, inserted even smaller pseudopods into his eye sockets
and linked its eyes directly to his. His eyesight shifted. Now he could see up into the infrared spectrum