บททั้งหมดของ The Alpha Protocol: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

The main platform of sector Zephyr looked like a frozen battlefield of the End time. The unnatural, dark blue ice columns from the wooden decks stood everywhere. Houses were divided in the middle, their hanging gardens to bizarre, glasses Sculptures solidified. But the tidal rebels were not without a fight. In the middle of the square, surrounded by a winding barrier of rotating wind Deflectors, a group of survivors had faded. They wore thick, windproof suspensions of tanned leather and carbonium spinners, their Faces hidden behind heavy breathing masks. They fired desperately with spring-loaded harpoons and modified compressed air cannons on an army of ground-bound ice-creatures, unstoppable from the frozen shadow of the infected cargo ship in the center crochet. These beings had no faces – they were grotesque, four-legged beasts of pure crystalline frost, whose claws hard wooden floor shattered every step. “The deflector field of the rebels collapses!” Silas called and

The massive tank gate of the laboratory trembled in the cycle of the sub-zero protocol. As When the clink touched with his gloved hands, the frost cracked with a noise the metal. With the involuntary force of his Apex muscles he raised the blocked gate by centimeters until we get through the I was able to squeeze an iron gap. The main reaction room of the Boreas was a cathedral of frozen steel. floated in the middle of the hall, held by three powerful magnetic arms, Cryogenic core. It was a meter-high glass ball, in whose interior a black, absolutely immovable substance rested – the energetic zero point of the Consortiums. Countless, violet-blue cold flashes shot out of the ball, the steel chips of the ship struck and the burning ice-drying speisten outside. “The resonance frequency has reached the critical phase!” Logan shouted: remote terminal on the wall and panic the frost of the display scratched. “The core extracts the thermal energy of the entire sector! Less as

The transition from the endless Azur blue of the sky to the shining void of the old Sea basin felt like we were leaving the world of living. For weeks, we had left Zephyr sector behind us and after North controlled, where the floating islands became thinner and the sky his color lost. The planetary singing that had accompanied us in the clouds became here above quieter, detached from the dull, seismic Pochen, the Silas from the Depth. I stood on the modified control panel and stared through the reinforced front panel. Before us the habitable world ended. The edge of the Eurasian continent collapsed abruptly. The old, dried bed of the Atlantic – a gigantic, kilometer-rich abyss white, cracked salt and dense yellowish sulphur mists, which are sluggish like rolling boiling oil over the ground. It was a desert of absolute death in which the consortium had evaporated the cradle of life centuries ago. “pressure compensation valves are sharply switched!” Silas called from the l

We left the dead monster and the rusty wreck behind us and went deeper into the Bed of the Atlantic. The closer we came to the origin of the SOS signal, the more the Environment. The fine white salt dust weighed a damp, black mud, under our chains. The yellow sulphur mist cleared and became from an unexpected, strange source. “That... that cannot be,” Silas whispered and pushed his face almost against the reinforced front glass. His monocle ratted as wild as it would try to calculate physical impossibilities. ‘bioluminescence. In a dried ocean basins.’ He was right. From the black mud huge, mushroom-like structures grew and huge, sling plant-like tubes, which are in a gentle, hypnotic neon blue and turquoise glowed. They brightened the kilometers deep blackness of the tomb, and transformed the absolute darkness into a bright, surreal underwater world – just without water. It was a flora, not to the sun, but to the immense had adapted barometric pressure and the geother

The yard of the abyssals was a mechanical miracle that our ideas of architecture. Word literally. The dry dock was not on the ground, but was like a giant bell on the solid ceiling of the glass dome, hundreds of meters above the black, inner ocean. Powerful hydraulic cranes, forged from the indestructible Titan of the Old World, standing down. It smelled of ozone, strongly iodine-containing seaweed and the sharp, familiar smell of molten metal. Our steel coils were in the middle of a floating work platform. I know with the back of my head the sweat of the forehead, ignored the Pochen in my bandaged left hand and lifted the heavy plasma torch. “The gravitational field of the rotors must be inverted!” I cried out the abyssal welding equipment. “When we use them as hydrodynamic turbines want to use, we need a direct intake channel through the front panel!” “The channels are already milled, Jada!” Silas replied. He hung over in one of the Maintenance shafts of turbine gondol