"Dafydd ab Hugh, Brad Linaweawer DOOM: Endgame (english)" - читать интересную книгу автора

clenched my teeth to activate my throat mike and
clicked to Arlene: click, click-click, click, click . . .
Marine code for "nothing this end how's by you?"
The tiny lozenge-size receiver in my ear told me
what I was afraid of hearing: click, click-click. Nothing
her end, either. Sears and Roebuck didn't have a mike
or receiver, but they were with Arlene.
I waited another fifteen minutes, querying every
two minutes; Arlene responded every time with the
same combination: click, click-click. Or is it Arlene? I
thought with sudden trepidation. I visualized the
monsters overwhelming her before she could signal
engagement or fire a shot, subduing her or even . . .
killing her. Behind my eyes, I saw a scaly fungoid
finger clicking on the mike, repeating the all-clear
over and over.
I gave with a rapid-fire series of clicks, running
through nearly half the Marine Corps signal code.
Almost immediately, my correspondent responded
with the other half—either it was really Lance Corpo-
ral Arlene Sanders or one hell of a smart Fred captain.
My muscles started to cramp. I stood cautiously,
keeping an ear cocked and an eye trained on the
gangway. After stretching, I returned to my position:
many an ambush has been blown by impatience. But
after an hour of plenty of nothing, even my patience
was exhausted. If I knew they were coming, just late, I
could have waited a week! But more and more, it
began to look like we'd been had.
"End operation gather at final rendezvous spot," I
clicked to my corporal. Ten minutes of quick walking
later, we all met in the engine room. Arlene stared at
me as if it were all my fault; she kept clenching and
relaxing her gun hand, rubbing her fingers against her
thumb like she were trying to start a fire the hard way.
"Okay, buddy-boy Sergeant dude, what gives?"
I shrugged. "There's no boarding party."
"Gee, you think so?" If sarcasm could drip, I had
just had a puddle of it dribbled onto my shoes.
I scratched my chin; it was already starting to get
rough. In another few hours, I'd have to shave again.
Funny, I thought the last time was the last time I'd
ever have to do that. "You, ah, want to recon?"
Arlene turned to look back over her shoulder, as if
she'd heard a noise. I didn't hear anything. "Recon?"
"Yeah, recon: that's when you go outside and—"
"I guess we'd better; we're never going to sleep
again if we don't."
I turned to Sears and Roebuck, but they were
shaking so hard they were blurry. "We'll stay here,"