JК
Crashlander :: Нивен Ларри
Страница: 175 из 199When Persial January Hebert was reported rescued, I would send them a gift.
Feather didn't know my alternate name. But if she had access to the Fafnir police, she'd tanj sure recognize that vest!
With the rest of the afternoon I bought survival gear: a backpurse, luggage, clothing.
On Earth I could have vanished behind a thousand shades of dyes. Here … I settled for a double dose of tannin secretion, an underdose of sun block, a darkened pair of mag specs, my height, and a local beard and hairstyle.
Arming myself was a problem.
The disk hadn't spoken of weapons on Fafnir. My safest guess was that Fafnir was like Earth: they didn't put weapons in the hands of civilians. Handguns, rifles, martial arts training belong to the police.
The good news: everyone on the islands carried knives. Those flying sharks that attacked me during the sunbunny run were one predator out of thousands.
Feather would arm herself somehow. She'd look through a sporting goods store, steal a hunting rifle … nope, no hunting rifles. No large prey on Fafnir, unless in the kzinti jungle, or underwater.
There were listings for scuba stores. I found a stun gun with a big parabolic reflector, big enough to knock out a one-gulp, too big for a pocket. I took it home, with more diving gear for versimilitude and a little tool kit for repairing diving equipment. With that I removed the reflector.
Now I couldn't use it underwater; it would knock me out, because water conducts sound very well. But it would fit my pocket.
* * *
I took my time over a sushi dinner, quite strange. Some time after sunset I stepped into a transfer booth, and stepped out into a brilliant dawn on Shasht.
Outbound Enterprises was open. I let a Ms. Machti take Martin Wallace Graynor's retina prints. «Your ticket is still good, Mr. Graynor,» Ms. Machti said. «The service charge will be eight hundred stars. You're four months late!»
«I was shipwrecked,» I told her. «Did my companions make it?»
Iceliner passengers are in no hurry. The ships keep prices down by launching when they're full. I learned that the Zombie Queen had departed a week after our landing, about as expected. I gave Ms. Machti the names. She set the phone system searching, and presently said, «Your husband and the children boarded and departed. Your wives' tickets are still outstanding.»
«Both?»
«Yes.» She did a double take. «Oh, good heavens, they must think you're dead!»
«That's what I'm afraid of.
Feather didn't know my alternate name. But if she had access to the Fafnir police, she'd tanj sure recognize that vest!
With the rest of the afternoon I bought survival gear: a backpurse, luggage, clothing.
On Earth I could have vanished behind a thousand shades of dyes. Here … I settled for a double dose of tannin secretion, an underdose of sun block, a darkened pair of mag specs, my height, and a local beard and hairstyle.
Arming myself was a problem.
The disk hadn't spoken of weapons on Fafnir. My safest guess was that Fafnir was like Earth: they didn't put weapons in the hands of civilians. Handguns, rifles, martial arts training belong to the police.
The good news: everyone on the islands carried knives. Those flying sharks that attacked me during the sunbunny run were one predator out of thousands.
Feather would arm herself somehow. She'd look through a sporting goods store, steal a hunting rifle … nope, no hunting rifles. No large prey on Fafnir, unless in the kzinti jungle, or underwater.
There were listings for scuba stores. I found a stun gun with a big parabolic reflector, big enough to knock out a one-gulp, too big for a pocket. I took it home, with more diving gear for versimilitude and a little tool kit for repairing diving equipment. With that I removed the reflector.
Now I couldn't use it underwater; it would knock me out, because water conducts sound very well. But it would fit my pocket.
* * *
I took my time over a sushi dinner, quite strange. Some time after sunset I stepped into a transfer booth, and stepped out into a brilliant dawn on Shasht.
Outbound Enterprises was open. I let a Ms. Machti take Martin Wallace Graynor's retina prints. «Your ticket is still good, Mr. Graynor,» Ms. Machti said. «The service charge will be eight hundred stars. You're four months late!»
«I was shipwrecked,» I told her. «Did my companions make it?»
Iceliner passengers are in no hurry. The ships keep prices down by launching when they're full. I learned that the Zombie Queen had departed a week after our landing, about as expected. I gave Ms. Machti the names. She set the phone system searching, and presently said, «Your husband and the children boarded and departed. Your wives' tickets are still outstanding.»
«Both?»
«Yes.» She did a double take. «Oh, good heavens, they must think you're dead!»
«That's what I'm afraid of.