JК
World Of Ptavvs :: Нивен Ларри
Страница: 111 из 127Infact, he hadn't said much of anything lately.
With a chill, Luke realized that Smoky's thoughts must run very like his own. With the ET a dead issue, the question was: Who got the helmet? Belt or Earth? And Smoky wasn't about to trust Earth with it.
Larry Greenberg opened his eyes and saw darkness. It was cold. "The lights don't work," said a voice in his mind.
"Did we crash?"
"We did indeed. I can't imagine why we're still alive.
GET UP."
Larry Greenberg got up and marched down the aisle between the passengers' seats. His muscles, bruised and aching, seemed to be acting by themselves. He went to the pilot seat, removed the pilot and sat down. His hands strapped him, then folded themselves into his lap. There he sat. Kzanol stood beside him, barely in the range of his peripheral vision.
"Comfortable?"
"Not quite," Larry confessed. "Could you leave one arm free for smoking?"
"Certainly." Larry found his left arm would obey him. He still couldn't move his eyes, though he could blink. He pulled a cigarette and lit it, moving by touch.
He thought, "It's a good thing I'm one of those people who can shave without a mirror."
Kzanol asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"
"It means I don't get uncoordinated without my eyes."
Kzanol stood watching him, a blurred mass at the edge of sight. Larry knew what he wanted. He wouldn't do it; he wouldn't ask.
What did Kzanol look like? he wondered.
He looked like a thrint, of course. Larry could remember being Kzanol/Greenberg, and all he had seen was a smallish, handsome, somewhat undergroomed thrint. But when he'd walked past Kzanol on his way to the pilot room, his fleeting glimpse had found something terrifying, something one-eyed and scaly and iridescent green, with gray giant earthworms writhing at the corners of a mouth like a slash in a child's rubber ball, with sharply pointed metallic teeth, with oversized arms and huge three-fingered hands like mechanical grabs.
The Thrintun voice was chilly, by its own standards. "Are you wondering about my oath?"
"Oaths. Yes, now that you mention it."
"You can no longer claim to be a thrint in a human body. You are not the being I gave my oath to."
"Oaths."
"I still want you to help me manage Earth."
Larry had no trouble understanding even the inflections in overspeak, and Kzanol, of course, could now read his mind.
"But you'll manage me," said Larry.
"Yes, of course.
With a chill, Luke realized that Smoky's thoughts must run very like his own. With the ET a dead issue, the question was: Who got the helmet? Belt or Earth? And Smoky wasn't about to trust Earth with it.
Larry Greenberg opened his eyes and saw darkness. It was cold. "The lights don't work," said a voice in his mind.
"Did we crash?"
"We did indeed. I can't imagine why we're still alive.
GET UP."
Larry Greenberg got up and marched down the aisle between the passengers' seats. His muscles, bruised and aching, seemed to be acting by themselves. He went to the pilot seat, removed the pilot and sat down. His hands strapped him, then folded themselves into his lap. There he sat. Kzanol stood beside him, barely in the range of his peripheral vision.
"Comfortable?"
"Not quite," Larry confessed. "Could you leave one arm free for smoking?"
"Certainly." Larry found his left arm would obey him. He still couldn't move his eyes, though he could blink. He pulled a cigarette and lit it, moving by touch.
He thought, "It's a good thing I'm one of those people who can shave without a mirror."
Kzanol asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"
"It means I don't get uncoordinated without my eyes."
Kzanol stood watching him, a blurred mass at the edge of sight. Larry knew what he wanted. He wouldn't do it; he wouldn't ask.
What did Kzanol look like? he wondered.
He looked like a thrint, of course. Larry could remember being Kzanol/Greenberg, and all he had seen was a smallish, handsome, somewhat undergroomed thrint. But when he'd walked past Kzanol on his way to the pilot room, his fleeting glimpse had found something terrifying, something one-eyed and scaly and iridescent green, with gray giant earthworms writhing at the corners of a mouth like a slash in a child's rubber ball, with sharply pointed metallic teeth, with oversized arms and huge three-fingered hands like mechanical grabs.
The Thrintun voice was chilly, by its own standards. "Are you wondering about my oath?"
"Oaths. Yes, now that you mention it."
"You can no longer claim to be a thrint in a human body. You are not the being I gave my oath to."
"Oaths."
"I still want you to help me manage Earth."
Larry had no trouble understanding even the inflections in overspeak, and Kzanol, of course, could now read his mind.
"But you'll manage me," said Larry.
"Yes, of course.