JК
World Of Ptavvs :: Нивен Ларри
Страница: 104 из 127Does everyone have a messed-up windshield?" A chorus of affirmatives.
"Huh! Okay. We don't know how much power there is that machine, but it may have a limit. Here's what do. First, we let the instruments carry us for a while. Second, we're eventually going to break our windshields so we can see out, so we'll be going the rest of the in closed suits. But we can't do that yet! Otherwise our faceplates will frost up. Third point." He glared round for emphasis, though nobody saw him. "Nobody outside for any reason! For all we know, that gun can peel our suits right off our backs in ten seconds. Any other suggestions?"
There were.
"Call Garner and ask him for ideas." Mabel Doolin in Two did that.
"Withdraw our radar antennae for a few hours. Otherwise they'll disappear." They did. The ships flew on, blind.
"We need something to tell us how far this gun has dug into our ships." But nobody could think of anything better than "Go look later."
Every minute someone tested the barrage with a piece of quartz. The barrage stopped fifteen minutes after it had started. Two minutes later it started again, and Tartov, who was out inspecting the damage, scrambled into his ship with his faceplate opaqued along the right side.
Kzanol looked up to see his «partner» climbing wearily down through the airlock. "Very good," he said. "Has it occurred to you that we may need the disintegrator to dig up the spacesuit?"
"Yeah, it has. That's why I didn't use it any longer than I did." In fact he'd quit because he was tired, but he knew Kzanol was right. Twenty-five minutes of a most continuous operation was a heavy drain on the battery. "I thought I could do them some damage. I don't know whether I did or not."
"Will you relax? If they get too close I'll take them get us some extra ships and body servants."
"I'm sure of that. But they don't have to get that close."
The gap between the Golden Circle and the Belt fleet closed slowly. They would reach Pluto at about the same time, eleven days after the honeymooner left Neptune.
"There she goes," said somebody.
"Right," said Lew. "Everyone ready to fire?"
Nobody answered. The flame of the honeymooner's drive stretched miles into space, a long, thin line of bluish white in a faint conical envelope. Slowly it began contract
"Fire," said Low, and pushed a red button. It had a tiny protective hatch over it, now unlocked. With a key.
Five missiles streaked away, dwindling match flames. The honeymooner's fire had contracted to a point.
Minutes passed. An hour. Two.
"Huh! Okay. We don't know how much power there is that machine, but it may have a limit. Here's what do. First, we let the instruments carry us for a while. Second, we're eventually going to break our windshields so we can see out, so we'll be going the rest of the in closed suits. But we can't do that yet! Otherwise our faceplates will frost up. Third point." He glared round for emphasis, though nobody saw him. "Nobody outside for any reason! For all we know, that gun can peel our suits right off our backs in ten seconds. Any other suggestions?"
There were.
"Call Garner and ask him for ideas." Mabel Doolin in Two did that.
"Withdraw our radar antennae for a few hours. Otherwise they'll disappear." They did. The ships flew on, blind.
"We need something to tell us how far this gun has dug into our ships." But nobody could think of anything better than "Go look later."
Every minute someone tested the barrage with a piece of quartz. The barrage stopped fifteen minutes after it had started. Two minutes later it started again, and Tartov, who was out inspecting the damage, scrambled into his ship with his faceplate opaqued along the right side.
Kzanol looked up to see his «partner» climbing wearily down through the airlock. "Very good," he said. "Has it occurred to you that we may need the disintegrator to dig up the spacesuit?"
"Yeah, it has. That's why I didn't use it any longer than I did." In fact he'd quit because he was tired, but he knew Kzanol was right. Twenty-five minutes of a most continuous operation was a heavy drain on the battery. "I thought I could do them some damage. I don't know whether I did or not."
"Will you relax? If they get too close I'll take them get us some extra ships and body servants."
"I'm sure of that. But they don't have to get that close."
The gap between the Golden Circle and the Belt fleet closed slowly. They would reach Pluto at about the same time, eleven days after the honeymooner left Neptune.
"There she goes," said somebody.
"Right," said Lew. "Everyone ready to fire?"
Nobody answered. The flame of the honeymooner's drive stretched miles into space, a long, thin line of bluish white in a faint conical envelope. Slowly it began contract
"Fire," said Low, and pushed a red button. It had a tiny protective hatch over it, now unlocked. With a key.
Five missiles streaked away, dwindling match flames. The honeymooner's fire had contracted to a point.
Minutes passed. An hour. Two.