"Gordon R. Dickson - Hilifter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

He started to throw it away, changed his mind for the sixtieth time and put
it back in his pocket. He turned back to the problem of getting out of the
cabin. He looked it over, pulled a sheet from the bed, and used its length to
measure a few distances.


The bunk was pivoted near the point where the head of it entered the
recess in the wall that concealed it in Up position. Up, the bunk was
designed to fit with its foot next to the ceiling. Consequently, coming up, the
foot would describe an arc тАУ
About a second and a half later he had discovered that the arc of the
foot, ascending, would leave just enough space in the opposite top angle
between wall and ceiling so that if he could just manage to hang there, while
releasing the safety latch at the foot of the bed, he might be able to get the
bed up past him into the wall recess.
It was something which required the muscle and skill normally called for
by so-called "chimney ascents" in mountain climbing тАУ where the climber
wedges himself between two opposing walls of rock. A rather wide
chimney тАУ since the room was a little more than four feet in width. But Cully
had had some little experience in that line.
 He tried it. A few seconds later, pressed against walls and ceiling, he
reached down, managed to get the bed released, and had the satisfaction
of seeing it fold up by him. Half a breath later he was free, out in the
corridor of the Tourist Section.
The corridor was deserted and silent. All doors were closed. Cully
closed his own thoughtfully behind him and went along the corridor to the
more open space in the center of the ship. He looked up a steel ladder to
the entrance of the Salon Section, where there would be another ladder to
the Crew Section, and from there eventually to his objective тАУ the Control
level and the Captain's Section. Had the way up those ladders been open, it
would have been simple. But level with the top of the ladder he saw the way
to the Salon Section was closed off by a metal cover capable of
withstanding fifteen pounds per square inch of pressure.
It had been closed, of course, as the other covers would have been, at
the beginning of the maneuver period.
Cully considered it thoughtfully, his fingers caressing the pistol grip of the
little handgun he had just put together. He would have preferred, naturally,
that the covers be open and the way available to him without the need for
fuss or muss. But the steward had effectively ruled out that possibility by
reacting as and when he had. Cully turned away from the staircase and
frowned, picturing the layout of the ship, as he had committed it to memory
five days ago.
There was an emergency hatch leading through the ceiling of the end
tourist cabin to the end salon cabin overhead, at both extremes of the
corridor. He turned and went down to the end cabin nearest him, and laid
his finger quietly on the outside latch handle.
There was no sound from inside. He drew his put-together handgun from
his belt and, holding it in his left hand, calmly and without hesitation, opened
the door and stepped inside.
He stopped abruptly. The bed in here was, of course, up in the wall, or he