Яппаньки вам,уважаем(ый)(ая)(ое)!

against it. Churlstein shoved his wide body through the opening.

"Sheridan! Are you okay?"

She could barely hear him over the damn alarm. She pointed to Terrence.

"He needs help," she screamed.

"We need to get him out."

Churlstein waded through the mess with his characteristic waddle, several others slipping through the door behind him. Terrence's lips continued to move. If only they would stop. God, what had she done to him? Churlstein's round, moonlike face pushed its way into her field of vision. He helped her pull Terrence up, and they dragged him out into the hallway, into the onlookers.

"We've got to get him to a doctor," Anna shouted.

Lines of blood from the cuts on Terrence's face had now run down to his moving lips.

"We'll go next door," Churlstein said, dragging Terrence, and also Anna, down the corridor.

His large bulk swayed from side to side as he moved. At first Anna didn't understand where they were going. Then she remembered. Geneva City Hospital. As they left the IPX building and the alarm behind, Terrence's words emerged beneath the sounds of the traffic, repeating, repeating. With Churlstein she dragged Terrence across the boulevard into the emergency room and stammered out that Terrence had been in an explosion. They took him into a curtained cubicle.

"What happened?" Churlstein asked.

She found she had to sit down. There were a couple of chairs in a wide spot in the hallway.

"What was that telepath doing in the lab?"

Churlstein sat beside her, the side of his body pushing into hers. His face wore its usual wrinkled frustration.

"The mouse was destroyed, wasn't it? I saw the isolab."

"Not now, Churlstein, okay?"

She scratched her neck, was surprised to see blood on her hand. Her hand was shaking. She willed
Предыдущая Следующая 

Supported By US NAVY