JК
Crashlander :: Нивен Ларри
Страница: 150 из 199Ander, there won't be anybody near the Core.»
I was trying to picture it. Worlds in flight — «Drive up along the galactic pole, then turn toward the hub. In ten thousand years they'd meet the shock wave from the Core explosion. I saw it, Ander. A shell of exploding suns, fairly tight, fairly narrow. They'd be through it in another five thousand years. The Outsiders are gone. All the sapient species are gone, too, dead or fled or hopelessly mutated and still mutating. Thousands of worlds would have been sterilized — maybe millions — but they'd still be covered with free oxygen and organic sludge and maybe even deep-sea life. All ready for easy terraforming. That's it. They're headed for the Core.»
He said, «Well.» And thought again and said, «At least it's different.»
«Is this what you came for?»
«Beowulf, I believe I can tell Sigmund it was worth the trip. Now, will you tell me what happened to Feather Filip and Carlos Wu?»
«Yeah. And Carlos Wu's autodoc?»
He shrugged it off. «Feather Filip vanished from the same time and locale as you and Carlos Wu and Sharrol Janss. I'm supposed to find out who's dead.»
It wasn't a slip of the tongue. He put the question that brutally quite deliberately. Maybe it got him what he wanted; because the blood was draining out of my face again. I found my hand at my throat, massaging.
I said, «Nobody should have to eat with you, Ander.»
He looked at the monster on my plate and again wouldn't give me the satisfaction. «Who's dead?»
Me! I said, «At least Carlos. You want it from the beginning?»
«Why not?»
PROCRUSTES
Asleep, my mind plays it all back in fragments and dreams. From time to time a block of nerves wakes:
That's some kind of ARM weapon! Move it move it too late blam. My head rolls loose on black sand. Bones shattered, ribs and spine. Fear worse than the agony. Agony fading and I'm gone.
Legs try to kick. Nothing moves. Again, harder, move! No go. The 'doc floats nicely on the lift plate, but its mass is resisting me. Push! Voice behind me, I turn, she's holding some kind of tube. Blam. My head bounces on sand. Agony flaring, sensation fading. Try to hang on, stay lucid … but everything turns mellow.
My balance swings wildly around my inner ear. Where's the planet's axis? Fafnir doesn't have polar caps. The ancient lander is flying itself. Carlos looks worried, but Feather's having the time of her life.
Sprawled across the planet's face, a hurricane flattened along one edge.
I was trying to picture it. Worlds in flight — «Drive up along the galactic pole, then turn toward the hub. In ten thousand years they'd meet the shock wave from the Core explosion. I saw it, Ander. A shell of exploding suns, fairly tight, fairly narrow. They'd be through it in another five thousand years. The Outsiders are gone. All the sapient species are gone, too, dead or fled or hopelessly mutated and still mutating. Thousands of worlds would have been sterilized — maybe millions — but they'd still be covered with free oxygen and organic sludge and maybe even deep-sea life. All ready for easy terraforming. That's it. They're headed for the Core.»
He said, «Well.» And thought again and said, «At least it's different.»
«Is this what you came for?»
«Beowulf, I believe I can tell Sigmund it was worth the trip. Now, will you tell me what happened to Feather Filip and Carlos Wu?»
«Yeah. And Carlos Wu's autodoc?»
He shrugged it off. «Feather Filip vanished from the same time and locale as you and Carlos Wu and Sharrol Janss. I'm supposed to find out who's dead.»
It wasn't a slip of the tongue. He put the question that brutally quite deliberately. Maybe it got him what he wanted; because the blood was draining out of my face again. I found my hand at my throat, massaging.
I said, «Nobody should have to eat with you, Ander.»
He looked at the monster on my plate and again wouldn't give me the satisfaction. «Who's dead?»
Me! I said, «At least Carlos. You want it from the beginning?»
«Why not?»
PROCRUSTES
Asleep, my mind plays it all back in fragments and dreams. From time to time a block of nerves wakes:
That's some kind of ARM weapon! Move it move it too late blam. My head rolls loose on black sand. Bones shattered, ribs and spine. Fear worse than the agony. Agony fading and I'm gone.
Legs try to kick. Nothing moves. Again, harder, move! No go. The 'doc floats nicely on the lift plate, but its mass is resisting me. Push! Voice behind me, I turn, she's holding some kind of tube. Blam. My head bounces on sand. Agony flaring, sensation fading. Try to hang on, stay lucid … but everything turns mellow.
My balance swings wildly around my inner ear. Where's the planet's axis? Fafnir doesn't have polar caps. The ancient lander is flying itself. Carlos looks worried, but Feather's having the time of her life.
Sprawled across the planet's face, a hurricane flattened along one edge.