"Kristine Smith - Kilian 2 - Rules of Conflict" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Kristine)

RULES OF CONFLICT
by KRISTINE SMITH

An Imprint of HarperCottlns Publishers
Copyright © 2000 by Kristine Smith Cover art by Jean Pierre Targete ISBN: 0-380-80784-X
www.eosbooks.com
First Eos paperback printing: September 2000
Eos Trademark Reg. U.S. Pat. Off. and in Other Countries, Marca
Registrada, Hecho en U.S.A.
HarperCollins® is a trademark of HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
Printed in the U.S.A.
WCD 10 987654321

In loving memory of Prince, the best puppy in town.



CHAPTER 1

"Name?"

Jani Kilian shifted her attention from her aching stomach to the admissions clerk who held her
MedRec card by the corner like a dirty dispo. The woman tapped her stylus against the data-entry grid
that rested on the desk in front of her, the staccato impact of plastic on polycoat sounding its get on with
it song.

"Shane Averill," Jani replied, "just like it says in the card." She snatched a peek at her reflection in
the highly polished counter. Chilly, too-dark eyes. Jaw tensed with discomfort. She forced a smile.

The clerk ignored the attempt at sociability. "Date and place of birth?"

Jani heard her voice quiver as she recited the information she'd memorized in preparation for this
encounter. The Earthbound accents that echoed through the cavernous lobby made her nervous.

Coming to Felix had made sense after fleeing Chicago. The closest colony to Earth, it was an easy
burrow to hunker down in. So obvious a stopping place was it that the Service agents who had no doubt
pursued her would have bypassed it for someplace less likely. The Channel Worlds. Or Pearl Way.

But the burrow had proved to be made of quicksand. Expensive but necessary equipment
purchases had devoured her finances, forcing her to remain until she could earn enough money to leave.
Then her dodgy health had taken a serious downturn.

The stomachaches, I can handle. But not the nausea, the vomiting, the pounding heart. She
knew she risked exposure by coming to Neoclona-Felix, but it was the only place on the planet that
could treat her properly, and she had grown sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.

It was a matter of minutes now. One blood study or en-cephaloscan, and she'd be blown.

They promised I had nothing to fear. Cal Montoya, the doctor who had saved her life in
Chicago, and those he spoke for. Promises were made to be broken. Her stomach clenched, and she