JК
The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
Страница: 69 из 164I've got to hold on to every cent, Jiz. I'm afraid if I let you take one credit, that could make the difference between 'Vorga' and I.»
«Me.» He waited. «Well?»
«You're all possessed,» she said wearily. «Not just a part of you, but all of you.»
«Yes, Gully. All of you. It's just your skin making love to me. The rest is feeding on 'Vorga.'»
At that moment the radar alarm in the forward control cabin burst upon them, unwelcome and warning.
«Destination zero,» Foyle muttered, no longer relaxed, once more possessed. He shot forward into the control cabin.
So he returned to the freak planetoid in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, the Sargasso planet manufactured of rock and wreckage and the spoils of space disaster salvaged by The Scientific People. He returned to the home of Joseph and his People who had tattooed NOMAD across his face and scientifically mated him to the girl named Moira.
Foyle overran the asteroid with the sudden fury of a Vandal raid. He came blasting out of space, braked with a spume of flame from the forward jets, and kicked the Weekender into a tight spin around the junkheap. They whirled around, passing the blackened ports, the big hatch from which Joseph and his Scientific People emerged to collect the drifting debris of space, the new crater Foyle had torn out of the side of the asteroid in his first plunge back to Terra. They whipped past the giant patchwork windows of the asteroid greenhouse and saw hundreds of faces peering out at them, tiny white dots mottled with tattooing.
«So I didn't murder them,» Foyle grunted. «They've pulled back into the asteroid . . . Probably living deep inside while they get the rest repaired.»
«Will you help them, Gully?»
«Why?»
«You did the damage.»
«To hell with them. I've got my own problems. But it's a relief. They won't be bothering us.»
He circled the asteroid once more and brought the Weekender down in the mouth of the new crater.
«We'll work from here,» he said. «Get into a suit, Jiz. Let's go! Let's go!»
He drove her, mad with impatience; he drove himself. They corked up in their spacesuits, left the Weekender, and went sprawling through the debris in the crater into the bleak bowels of the asteroid. It was like squirming through the crawling tunnels of giant worm-holes. Foyle switched on his micro-wave suit set and spoke to Jiz.
«Be easy to get lost in here. Stay with me. Stay close.»
«Where are we going, Gully?»
«After 'Nomad.
«Me.» He waited. «Well?»
«You're all possessed,» she said wearily. «Not just a part of you, but all of you.»
«Yes, Gully. All of you. It's just your skin making love to me. The rest is feeding on 'Vorga.'»
At that moment the radar alarm in the forward control cabin burst upon them, unwelcome and warning.
«Destination zero,» Foyle muttered, no longer relaxed, once more possessed. He shot forward into the control cabin.
So he returned to the freak planetoid in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, the Sargasso planet manufactured of rock and wreckage and the spoils of space disaster salvaged by The Scientific People. He returned to the home of Joseph and his People who had tattooed NOMAD across his face and scientifically mated him to the girl named Moira.
Foyle overran the asteroid with the sudden fury of a Vandal raid. He came blasting out of space, braked with a spume of flame from the forward jets, and kicked the Weekender into a tight spin around the junkheap. They whirled around, passing the blackened ports, the big hatch from which Joseph and his Scientific People emerged to collect the drifting debris of space, the new crater Foyle had torn out of the side of the asteroid in his first plunge back to Terra. They whipped past the giant patchwork windows of the asteroid greenhouse and saw hundreds of faces peering out at them, tiny white dots mottled with tattooing.
«So I didn't murder them,» Foyle grunted. «They've pulled back into the asteroid . . . Probably living deep inside while they get the rest repaired.»
«Will you help them, Gully?»
«Why?»
«You did the damage.»
«To hell with them. I've got my own problems. But it's a relief. They won't be bothering us.»
He circled the asteroid once more and brought the Weekender down in the mouth of the new crater.
«We'll work from here,» he said. «Get into a suit, Jiz. Let's go! Let's go!»
He drove her, mad with impatience; he drove himself. They corked up in their spacesuits, left the Weekender, and went sprawling through the debris in the crater into the bleak bowels of the asteroid. It was like squirming through the crawling tunnels of giant worm-holes. Foyle switched on his micro-wave suit set and spoke to Jiz.
«Be easy to get lost in here. Stay with me. Stay close.»
«Where are we going, Gully?»
«After 'Nomad.