"Blish, James - Pheonix Planet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blish James)

Evidently he was even more excited than he had imagined, for after finding a
midge of a planet accurately in the eternal void, he missed New York and shot
instead over an unfamiliar, heavily wooded section of the coast. Wooded. Real
trees. But trees, for all their beauty and grateful familiarity, were not for
now. He needed an airdrome. He swung north up the coast, shooting higher until
he could see the Hudson; then, exultantly, he plunged the Icarus toward
Manhattan.
He would land at LaGuardia Field, but first he would give the old town a thrill.
Maybe they had rockets now, transatlantic rockets or something--but that was
doubtful, because if they had they would also have space rockets. His own
adventure the Society had kept secret, for fear of the laughter of the
newspapers. Probably there were just much better air planes now. Certainly no
glittering meteors like the Icarus. In his imagination he could see the white
expanse of startled, upturned faces in the streets of the city as he thundered
deafeningly overhead. Conquering hero, returned from Mars. He chuckled. He had
earned an ovation, by God. Also that steak and that soft bed and that air....
The old thought-chain brought him back to Anne again and he blinked a little. If
she were there to meet him, his life would have reached its peak. And if she
were not . . . well, old Earth was home, just the same.... He kicked himself for
a sniveling schoolboy and concentrated on the gold cage. Good little
space-vessel, but somewhat tricky in normal flight. He braked as Manhattan
loomed nearer and the silver thread of the Hudson expanded to a metal ribbon,
and for a moment the flames obscured his forward vision. What a display the
rockets made in air! Not quite such comet-like expansion as in space, but
unparalleled brilliancy and even some smoke. How Kammerman would sputter when he
told him about that smoke; it meant wasted power, and waste in a rocket engine
was to Kammerman as leprosy in a man is to the normal woman.
The air-speed indicator registered eighty now. Any slower and the Icarus would
fall of its own weight, despite the stubby wings. He shut off the ocean of fire
and peered eagerly downward--
But on Manhattan Island and all the land visible to Gregory Marshall, there was
nothing but the dense, wild forest.



CHAPTER II of PHOENIX PLANET



IN SICK TERROR he sent the lcarus in as tight spirals as he dared, scanning the
ground below, almost skimming the tree-tops. What could have happened to a whole
city in twelve years?
The forest was not as dense as it had looked from above; it was mostly scrub,
and there were occasional thin spots and clearings. Nowhere, however did he see
any sign of a building or even a ruin. New York--vanished!
What could have been the cause? Some local epidemic, perhaps, which had caused
the city to be abandoned? But the buildings would still be there, certainly--the
great, familiar skyscrapers....
Abruptly he got a clear look at a larger clearing. The ground in it looked
wrong, somehow--it seemed to glisten in spots, like lava--