"E. E. Doc Smith - D' Alembert 9 - The Omicron Invasion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

"One of our party knocked out that tower, and got captured for her efforts," Lady A said
imperiously. "Does that sound like we've sold out?"

"Was she with you?" The voice was a little awed; Yvette's stunt had obviously made an
impression. After a moment of silence, a door opened downstairs in the house the blaster fire had come
from. "Come on in, then. Anyone who'll fight like that is welcome."

The Empire team accepted the invitation and entered the house. Inside, everything looked
preposterously normal considering the planet had been brutally invaded and conquered. Modern furniture
was spaced judiciously over a hardwood floor with a thick hooked area rug in the center of the room. The
only jarring note to the decor was the stack of blaster rifles leaning up against one corner.

There were ten people in the room as the team entered, and more joined them within a few
minutes from other parts of the house. Most of them carried blasters tucked inside their belts. There were
men and women ranging in ages from early twenties on up. There were no children, but Jules hadn't
expected to find any; children would probably have been evacuated to the countryside, far from the scene
of any battles.

The strain of the past week was evident in the faces of Omicron's defenders. Even though
Omicron was as far from the center of galactic civilization as it could get, it was far from a rough-hewn
pioneer world. Life had been reasonably comfortable here until the sudden invasion. Without warning
these people had been thrown into a desperate battle for survival, a battle that for many of them had been
until now little more difficult than working at a daily job and deciding what to make for dinner. Despite
facing a ruthless enemy and overwhelming odds, despite overcoming their ignorance of fighting and
military techniques, despite being disorganized and undisciplined, these people had held together and put
up a valiant struggle. Every one of them deserved a medal, Jules thought, looking around. It was amazing
the heroism even "ordinary" people could find in themselves when the need arose.

One large-boned woman with gray-blond hair, in her mid-forties, was evidently the leader of the
ragtag army, even though her well-worn Marine uniform showed only the rank of staff sergeant.
"Welcome to the Barswell City Division of the Omicron Liberation Army, such as it is," she said with a
tired good humor. "I'm Meg Maguire. Sorry about shooting at you, but we're all a bit on edge these days.
It doesn't hurt to be too careful."

"I can see that," Jules said. "You've done miracles just to stay alive, let alone fight back against
the enemy." He hesitated just a second before introducing himself, not wanting to mention his real name
in front of Lady A. He finally decided on using one of his previous cover names she'd heard before. "I'm
Ernst Brecht, and these are my friends—Paul, Aimée, Ivanov, and Tatiana."

"Glad to meet you," Maguire said. "If you can fight one-tenth as good as your friend, you'll be
welcome indeed. That sure was a pretty sight out there, to watch her bring that tower down. Shame they
had to drop the gas when they did," she added with a shake of her head. "We sure could have used more
like her, but she's gone now."

"Where did they take her?" Jules asked. "What will happen to her?"
 "Slave camp, most probably. Nothing we can do about it. Just cut the losses, shore up the
barricades, and fight again tomorrow." She spoke with the world-weary expertise of someone who'd spent
her life in battle, not just the past week.