"Gordon R. Dickson & Harry Harrision - Lifeship" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

at last, high-pitched and buzzing. "Strap down. Motions will be abrupt."

In the continuing silence, he turned and strode to the control console in the
lifeship's nose, and belted himself into one of the two control chairs there.
His three-fingered hands moved swiftly. Lights glowed on the panels and the
two viewscreens before him came to life, showing only the out-of-focus metal
walls of the lifeship capsule. Giles and the arbites aboard had just enough
time to pull up their cots before the launch button was hit. They

clutched at the frames of their cots as the sudden acceleration pounced on
them.

Explosive charges blew away the hull section covering the lifeship capsule.
Gravity forces pressed them hard against the webbing of their cots, as the
lifeship was hurled away from its mother ship, into space. The acceleration
changed direction as the lifeship's drive took over and moved it away from
the dying ship; and a nauseating sensation rippled through their bodies as
they left the gravity field of the larger vessel and the weaker
grav-simulation field of the lifeship came on.

Giles was aware of all this only absently. Automatically his hands were
locked tightly about the metal frame of his cot to keep him from being thrown
off it, but his eyes were fixed on the right of the two viewscreens in the
bow. The screen on the left showed only stars, but the right-hand screen gave
a view directly astern, a view filled with the image of the burning, dying
ship.

There was no relation between the jumble of wreckage seen there and the ship
they had boarded in orbit high above the equator of Earth, twelve days
before. Twisted and torn metal glowed white-hot in the darkness of space.
Some lights still showed in sections of the hull, but most of it was dark.
The glowing wreckage had shrunk to the size of a hot ember as they hurtled
away from it;

now it maintained a constant size and moved from screen to screen as they
orbited about it. The Albenareth that had joined them was speaking into a
grille below one of the screens, in the throbbing buzz of his own tongue. He
or she was pronouncing what were clearly the same words, over and over again,
until there was a scratching hiss from the speaker and another voice
answered. There was a rapid discussion as the burning wreck was centered on
the forward screen, then began to grow in size once more.

"We're going back!" an arbite voice shouted hysterically from the darkness.
"Stop him! We're going back!"

"Be quietl" Giles said, automatically. "All of youтАФthat's an order!" After a
second, he added, "The Albenareth knows what has to be done. No one else can
pilot this ship."

In silence the arbites continued to watch as the image of the