[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
function is puzzling to me. Tell me, is the movement voluntary? Or is it
automatic? Is your hair's retractability produced by a linkage with your other
senses, or does it possess some sensory array of its own?"
"Fuck off."
"I'll have to cut some of it off for testing when we get to the camp. It could
well be the basis for an entire new branch of cybertechnology. Yet another
prodigious feather in my cap." The whitecoat sank back into his seat, a dreamy
expression on his face. "This world is full of such mystery and promise," he
said.
"You sorely need killing," Krysty remarked as the gyroplane banked.
After it landed on the Slake City airstrip, the cargo door opened and a pair
of troopers leaned in and unbuckled Krysty from her seat. As they pulled her
out, the whitecoat said, "I'll be by soon for a sample of that hair."
Krysty didn't struggle in the troopers' grasp. There didn't seem to be much
point.
She was way outnumbered and with the cuffs on her hands and feet, even if she
broke free, she wouldn't get far. Instead of wasting her energy, she conserved
it, letting them half carry her along. The troopers took her through the
airlock door of the biggest of the domes and from there down a series of
tubular, antiseptic corridors.
As they advanced, Krysty kept her eyes open, looking for the comp that
controlled the manacles. As Colonel Gabhart said, it had to somewhere in the
Slake City complex. But all the doors they passed were closed and none had
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through.html (232 of 344)16-2-2006 16:48:43
D5
visible markings on them. It occurred to her as she was hurried along that she
might not even recognize the electronic brain when she saw it. The only comps
she had ever seen were the ones the companions had come across in the redoubts
predark government caches of machinery and supplies. Those comps were a
century behind what these invaders had. The science of Deathlands had come to
a crashing halt in the year 2001.
The troopers took her through a doorway into a small dome that was blindingly
lit. Unlike the corridors, the structure had not one, but a half-dozen light
strips across the ceiling. From the furnishings, it looked like an operating
suite or a dissection room.
Two she-hes stood in the hard light, beside a low black table with blood
gutters running down the sides. One wore a battlesuit without a helmet; the
other had on a tight fitting, sleeveless gray T-shirt and loose gray pants.
Krysty was struck by the size and definition of the second one's arms. Beneath
the smooth, pale skin
Krysty could see every jumping sinew. The bulk of the muscle wasn't feminine,
but it wasn't masculine, either. There was something very different about it.
It was more fluid. More supple. Not only powerful, but fast. Very, very fast.
Standing beside the operating table was a small black cubicle on wheels with a
plastic hose coming out the top. There were LCD readouts on the side. Krysty
didn't like the looks of it one bit. It reminded her of the tissue sampling
apparatus she had seen Gabhart use on a cannie. The cannie had failed the
tissue test, and been immediately foamed. Also next to the table were
two-wheeled trolleys with instruments under clear plastic domes, and neat rows
of injectable medicines in little bottles.
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D5
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"Don't be alarmed," the she-he in the battlesuit told her.
Then she dismissed the pair of troopers. "You can go now," she said. "We don't
need your help."
Krysty took in the handsome, androgynous face, the intense eyes, the confident
expression. The queen bee of this nasty hive indicated a chair next to the
wall.
"Please have a seat over there and take off your coat," she said.
"Do I have a choice?"
"No, of course not. I'm Dredda, by the way. And this is Jann. She's a medical
doctor. She'll be examining you."
As Krysty sat, the other she-he moved to the side and rear of the chair.
Before
Krysty could react, Jann locked an arm around her neck and plunged a
hypodermic needle through her shirt and deep into her shoulder.
"Yeow!" she cried.
She couldn't get free of the arm. Jann pushed the plunger home, shooting
burning pain into her muscle. Then she jerked out the needle, leaving a
spreading patch of red around the tiny hole in the fabric.
"Sorry to be so rough," Dredda said, "but we don't have time to wrestle with
you."
"What the hell did you shoot into me?" Krysty demanded, rubbing her wound.
"Don't get upset," Jann told her. "It's perfectly safe. It's just something to
relax
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through.html (234 of 344)16-2-2006 16:48:43
D5
you."
It was already becoming apparent to Krysty that she had been drugged. Her head
was growing heavy, and her tongue was starting to feel thick. Her fingertips
and toes were starting to tingle. She tried to get up from the chair, but the
she-he pushed her back down easily. Her legs had no strength.
"You can't fight the effects of the sedative," Dredda said. "You might as well
stop trying."
Dredda and Jann picked her up under the arms and dragged her limp-legged over
to the table.
Krysty was fully conscious, but paralyzed. She had feeling in her limbs, but
she couldn't move them. She could think, but she couldn't talk. The she-hes
laid her out on her back on the operating table, then Dredda started pulling
off her boots.
Jann slipped the jumpsuit from her torso, unzipping it and rolling the fabric
down over the points of her hips. Then the two of them pulled off the jumpsuit
and her panties.
Jann took a pair of stirrups from under one of the trolleys and attached them
to the either end of the table. The doctor lifted her feet and hooked them
inside, spreading her legs wide.
Unable to raise her head, unable to give voice to the string of curses that
filled her head, unable to defend herself, Krysty felt tears of impotent fury
slide down her cheeks.
You bastards, she thought, you filthy bastards.
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through.html (235 of 344)16-2-2006 16:48:43
D5
"Pick up her head so she can see what's happening," Jann said to Dredda. "It's
a quick and painless procedure," the she-he assured Krysty. "The sedation was
necessary only because we assumed you would resist."
Dredda slipped a hand under her neck and gently raised her head from the
Page 113
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
table.
What Krysty saw made her shudder. Below the flat, pale plane of her belly,
above the tuft of red hair atop her pubis, her entire crotch was in full view
and easy reach of the muscular creature who stood between her splayed knees.
After pulling on a pair of transparent, skintight gloves, Jann attached a
long, thin instrument to the hose emanating from the low cube beside the
table.
Gaia, protect me! Krysty thought, shuddering as uninvited fingers deftly
opened up her most private place and inserted the hollow, pointed tip of the
instrument.
The box beside the table began to hum and from deep inside her the instrument [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
function is puzzling to me. Tell me, is the movement voluntary? Or is it
automatic? Is your hair's retractability produced by a linkage with your other
senses, or does it possess some sensory array of its own?"
"Fuck off."
"I'll have to cut some of it off for testing when we get to the camp. It could
well be the basis for an entire new branch of cybertechnology. Yet another
prodigious feather in my cap." The whitecoat sank back into his seat, a dreamy
expression on his face. "This world is full of such mystery and promise," he
said.
"You sorely need killing," Krysty remarked as the gyroplane banked.
After it landed on the Slake City airstrip, the cargo door opened and a pair
of troopers leaned in and unbuckled Krysty from her seat. As they pulled her
out, the whitecoat said, "I'll be by soon for a sample of that hair."
Krysty didn't struggle in the troopers' grasp. There didn't seem to be much
point.
She was way outnumbered and with the cuffs on her hands and feet, even if she
broke free, she wouldn't get far. Instead of wasting her energy, she conserved
it, letting them half carry her along. The troopers took her through the
airlock door of the biggest of the domes and from there down a series of
tubular, antiseptic corridors.
As they advanced, Krysty kept her eyes open, looking for the comp that
controlled the manacles. As Colonel Gabhart said, it had to somewhere in the
Slake City complex. But all the doors they passed were closed and none had
file:///J|/sci-fi/Nieuwe%20map/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%2057%20-%20Break
through.html (232 of 344)16-2-2006 16:48:43
D5
visible markings on them. It occurred to her as she was hurried along that she
might not even recognize the electronic brain when she saw it. The only comps
she had ever seen were the ones the companions had come across in the redoubts
predark government caches of machinery and supplies. Those comps were a
century behind what these invaders had. The science of Deathlands had come to
a crashing halt in the year 2001.
The troopers took her through a doorway into a small dome that was blindingly
lit. Unlike the corridors, the structure had not one, but a half-dozen light
strips across the ceiling. From the furnishings, it looked like an operating
suite or a dissection room.
Two she-hes stood in the hard light, beside a low black table with blood
gutters running down the sides. One wore a battlesuit without a helmet; the
other had on a tight fitting, sleeveless gray T-shirt and loose gray pants.
Krysty was struck by the size and definition of the second one's arms. Beneath
the smooth, pale skin
Krysty could see every jumping sinew. The bulk of the muscle wasn't feminine,
but it wasn't masculine, either. There was something very different about it.
It was more fluid. More supple. Not only powerful, but fast. Very, very fast.
Standing beside the operating table was a small black cubicle on wheels with a
plastic hose coming out the top. There were LCD readouts on the side. Krysty
didn't like the looks of it one bit. It reminded her of the tissue sampling
apparatus she had seen Gabhart use on a cannie. The cannie had failed the
tissue test, and been immediately foamed. Also next to the table were
two-wheeled trolleys with instruments under clear plastic domes, and neat rows
of injectable medicines in little bottles.
file:///J|/sci-fi/Nieuwe%20map/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%2057%20-%20Break
through.html (233 of 344)16-2-2006 16:48:43
D5
Page 112
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Don't be alarmed," the she-he in the battlesuit told her.
Then she dismissed the pair of troopers. "You can go now," she said. "We don't
need your help."
Krysty took in the handsome, androgynous face, the intense eyes, the confident
expression. The queen bee of this nasty hive indicated a chair next to the
wall.
"Please have a seat over there and take off your coat," she said.
"Do I have a choice?"
"No, of course not. I'm Dredda, by the way. And this is Jann. She's a medical
doctor. She'll be examining you."
As Krysty sat, the other she-he moved to the side and rear of the chair.
Before
Krysty could react, Jann locked an arm around her neck and plunged a
hypodermic needle through her shirt and deep into her shoulder.
"Yeow!" she cried.
She couldn't get free of the arm. Jann pushed the plunger home, shooting
burning pain into her muscle. Then she jerked out the needle, leaving a
spreading patch of red around the tiny hole in the fabric.
"Sorry to be so rough," Dredda said, "but we don't have time to wrestle with
you."
"What the hell did you shoot into me?" Krysty demanded, rubbing her wound.
"Don't get upset," Jann told her. "It's perfectly safe. It's just something to
relax
file:///J|/sci-fi/Nieuwe%20map/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%2057%20-%20Break
through.html (234 of 344)16-2-2006 16:48:43
D5
you."
It was already becoming apparent to Krysty that she had been drugged. Her head
was growing heavy, and her tongue was starting to feel thick. Her fingertips
and toes were starting to tingle. She tried to get up from the chair, but the
she-he pushed her back down easily. Her legs had no strength.
"You can't fight the effects of the sedative," Dredda said. "You might as well
stop trying."
Dredda and Jann picked her up under the arms and dragged her limp-legged over
to the table.
Krysty was fully conscious, but paralyzed. She had feeling in her limbs, but
she couldn't move them. She could think, but she couldn't talk. The she-hes
laid her out on her back on the operating table, then Dredda started pulling
off her boots.
Jann slipped the jumpsuit from her torso, unzipping it and rolling the fabric
down over the points of her hips. Then the two of them pulled off the jumpsuit
and her panties.
Jann took a pair of stirrups from under one of the trolleys and attached them
to the either end of the table. The doctor lifted her feet and hooked them
inside, spreading her legs wide.
Unable to raise her head, unable to give voice to the string of curses that
filled her head, unable to defend herself, Krysty felt tears of impotent fury
slide down her cheeks.
You bastards, she thought, you filthy bastards.
file:///J|/sci-fi/Nieuwe%20map/James%20Axler%20-%20Deathlands%2057%20-%20Break
through.html (235 of 344)16-2-2006 16:48:43
D5
"Pick up her head so she can see what's happening," Jann said to Dredda. "It's
a quick and painless procedure," the she-he assured Krysty. "The sedation was
necessary only because we assumed you would resist."
Dredda slipped a hand under her neck and gently raised her head from the
Page 113
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
table.
What Krysty saw made her shudder. Below the flat, pale plane of her belly,
above the tuft of red hair atop her pubis, her entire crotch was in full view
and easy reach of the muscular creature who stood between her splayed knees.
After pulling on a pair of transparent, skintight gloves, Jann attached a
long, thin instrument to the hose emanating from the low cube beside the
table.
Gaia, protect me! Krysty thought, shuddering as uninvited fingers deftly
opened up her most private place and inserted the hollow, pointed tip of the
instrument.
The box beside the table began to hum and from deep inside her the instrument [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]