JК
World Of Ptavvs :: Нивен Ларри
Страница: 106 из 127From Earth, only that bright highlight is visible, actually evidence of Pluto's flat, almost polished surface, making the planet look very small and very dense.
"Pretty puny," said Kzanol.
"What did you expect of a moon?"
"There was F-28. Too heavy even for whitefoods."
"True. Mmph. Look at that big circle. Looks like a tremendous meteor crater, doesn't it?"
"Where? Oh, I see it." Kzanol listened. "That's it! Radar's got it cold. Powerloss," he added, looking at the radar telescope through the pilot's eyes, "you can almost see the shape of it. But we'll have to wait for the next circuit before we can land."
Slowly the big ship turned until its motor faced forward in its orbit.
The Belt fleet stayed a respectful distance away- very respectful, four million miles respectful. Without the telescopes Pluto barely showed a disc.
"Everybody guess a number," said Low. "Between one and one hundred. When I get yours I'll tell you mine. Then we call Garner and let him pick. Whoever gets closest to Garner's number is It."
"Three." "Twenty-eight." "Seventy."
"Fifty. Okay, I'll call Garner." Low changed to maser. "One calling Garner. One calling Garner. Garner, we've about decided what to do if he doesn't go down. None of our ship radars are damaged, so we'll just program one ship to aim at the honeymooner at top speed. We watch through the telescopes. When our ship gets close enough we blow the drive. We want you to pick a number between one and one hundred."
Seconds passing. Garner's fleet was closer now, nearing the end of its trip.
"This is Tartov in Number Three. He's going down."
"Garner here. I suggest we wait and use the radar proof, if we. can. It sounds like you're planning for one man to ride in somebody's airlock until he can reach to Belt. If so, wait for us; we may have room for an extra in one of the Earth ships. You still want a number? Fifty-five."
Lew swallowed. "Thanks, Garner." He turned off his maser-finder.
"Three again. You're saved by the bell, Lew. He's going down on the night side. In the predawn area. Couldn't be better. He may even land in the Crescent!"
Lew watched, his face pale, as the tiny light burned above Pluto's dim white surface. Garner must have forgotten that a singleship's control bubble was its own airlock; that it had to be evacuated whenever the pilot wanted to get out. Lew was glad the flatlander fleet had followed. He did not relish the idea of spending several weeks riding on the outside of a spaceship.
Kzanol/Greenberg swallowed, swallowed again. The low acceleration bothered him.
"Pretty puny," said Kzanol.
"What did you expect of a moon?"
"There was F-28. Too heavy even for whitefoods."
"True. Mmph. Look at that big circle. Looks like a tremendous meteor crater, doesn't it?"
"Where? Oh, I see it." Kzanol listened. "That's it! Radar's got it cold. Powerloss," he added, looking at the radar telescope through the pilot's eyes, "you can almost see the shape of it. But we'll have to wait for the next circuit before we can land."
Slowly the big ship turned until its motor faced forward in its orbit.
The Belt fleet stayed a respectful distance away- very respectful, four million miles respectful. Without the telescopes Pluto barely showed a disc.
"Everybody guess a number," said Low. "Between one and one hundred. When I get yours I'll tell you mine. Then we call Garner and let him pick. Whoever gets closest to Garner's number is It."
"Three." "Twenty-eight." "Seventy."
"Fifty. Okay, I'll call Garner." Low changed to maser. "One calling Garner. One calling Garner. Garner, we've about decided what to do if he doesn't go down. None of our ship radars are damaged, so we'll just program one ship to aim at the honeymooner at top speed. We watch through the telescopes. When our ship gets close enough we blow the drive. We want you to pick a number between one and one hundred."
Seconds passing. Garner's fleet was closer now, nearing the end of its trip.
"This is Tartov in Number Three. He's going down."
"Garner here. I suggest we wait and use the radar proof, if we. can. It sounds like you're planning for one man to ride in somebody's airlock until he can reach to Belt. If so, wait for us; we may have room for an extra in one of the Earth ships. You still want a number? Fifty-five."
Lew swallowed. "Thanks, Garner." He turned off his maser-finder.
"Three again. You're saved by the bell, Lew. He's going down on the night side. In the predawn area. Couldn't be better. He may even land in the Crescent!"
Lew watched, his face pale, as the tiny light burned above Pluto's dim white surface. Garner must have forgotten that a singleship's control bubble was its own airlock; that it had to be evacuated whenever the pilot wanted to get out. Lew was glad the flatlander fleet had followed. He did not relish the idea of spending several weeks riding on the outside of a spaceship.
Kzanol/Greenberg swallowed, swallowed again. The low acceleration bothered him.