"Gordon R. Dickson - 8 Short Stories and Novellas" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

"That's right," said Chuck. "But we had to develop the proper equipment
to move about on them. If I had the proper equipment here I wouldn't have
to ask you for help. If it hadn't been for our crashing in the ocean none of
this would be necessary."
"This 'equipment' of yours seems to have an uncertain nature," said
Binichi. He came all the way erect. "I'll help you." He flipped overboard and
disappeared.
Left alone in the raft with the envoy, Chuck looked over at him.
"The business of landing will probably turn out to be difficult and
dangerous тАУ at least we better assume the worst," he said. "You
understand you may have to swim for your life when we go in?"
"I have given my word to accomplish this mission," replied the envoy.
A little while after that, it became evident from the angle at which the raft
took the waves that they had changed course. Chuck, looking about for an
explanation of this, discovered Binichi at the back of the raft, pushing them.
Within the hour, the Lugh had steered them to a small, rocky inlet. Picked
up in the landward surge of the surf, the raft went, as Chuck had predicted,
end over end in a smother of water up on the pebbly beach. Staggering to
his feet with the solid land at last under him, Chuck smeared water from his
eyes and took inventory of a gashed and bleeding knee. Binding the cut as
best he could with a strip torn from his now-ragged pants, he looked about
for his fellow travelers.
The raft was flung upside down between himself and them. Just beyond
it, the envoy lay with his claw arm flung limply out on the sand. Binichi, a little
further on, was sitting up like a seal. As Chuck watched, the envoy stirred,
pulled his claw back into normal position, and got shakily up on all four legs.
Chuck went over to the raft and, with some effort, managed to turn it
back, right side up. He dug into the storage boxes and got out food and
water. He was not sure whether it was the polite, or even the sensible thing
to do, but he was shaky from hunger, parched from the salt water, dizzy
from the pounding in the surf тАУ and his knee hurt. He sat down and made
his first ravenous meal since the pot had crashed in the sea, almost two
days before.
As he was at it, the Tomah envoy approached. Chuck offered him some
of the water, which the Tomah accepted.
"Sorry I haven't anything you could eat," said Chuck, a full belly having
improved his manners.
"It doesn't matter," said the envoy. "There will be flora growing farther
inland that will stay my hunger. It's good to be back on the land."
"I'll go along with you on that statement," said Chuck. Looking up from the
food and water, he saw the Lugh approaching. Binichi came up, walking on
his four short limbs, his tail folded into a club over his back for balance, and
sat down with them.
"And now?" he said, addressing Chuck.
"Well," said Chuck, stretching his cramped back, "we'll head inland
toward the Base." He reached into his right-hand pants pocket and
produced a small compass. "That direction" тАУ he pointed toward the hills
without looking тАУ "and some five hundred miles. Only we shouldn't have to
cover it all on foot. If we can get within four hundred miles of Base, we'll be
within the airfoils' cruising range; and one of them should locate us and pick