"Dragons Dawn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

approaching.
As Emily sat down at her workspace, she wondered how under the suns
the expedition had lucked out enough to include the most eminent geneticist
in the Federated Sentient Planets -- the only human who had ever been
trained by the Eridanis. Emily had only seen pics of the altered humans who
had made the first abortive mission to Eridani. She suppressed a shudder.
Pern wouldn┤t ever require that kind of abominable tinkering. Maybe that┤s
why Kit Ping was willing to come to the edge of the galaxy -- to end what
had already been a long and incredible life in a quiet backwater where she,
too, could practice selective amnesia. There were many on the colony┤s roll
who had come to forget what they had seen and done.
The grassoid on that eastern landing site is going to be hell to
cut through,л Ted Tubberman said, scowling. ╗High boron content. It┤ll dull
cutting edges and foul gear.л
╗It┤d cushion the landing,л Pat Hempenstall said with a chuckle.
╗Our landing craft have landed safely on far more inhospitable
terrain than that,л Emily reminded the others.
╗Felicia, run a comparison on the botanical succession around those
crazy polka dots,л Ted Tubberman went on, staring at his own screens.
╗There┤s something about that configuration that still bothers me. The
phenomenon is all over the planet. And I┤d be happier if we could get an
opinion from that geologist whiz, Tarzan -- л He paused.
Tarvi Andiyar,л Felicia supplied, accustomed to Ted┤s memory
lapses.
╗Well, memo him to meet me when he┤s revived. Damn it, Mar, how can
we function with only half the specialists awake?л
We┤re doing fine, Ted. Pern is coming up roses for us. Not a joggle
off the report data.л
╗That┤s almost worrying,л Pol Nietro said blandly.
Tubberman snorted, Mar Dook shrugged, and Kitti Ping smiled.

Admiral Benden┤s chrono tingled against his wrist, reminding him that it
was time for his own meeting.
Commander Ongola, take the conn.л Reluctantly, his eyes focusing on
the main screen until the access panel of the exit closed, Paul left the
bridge.
The corridors of the great colony ship were becoming more crowded
by the hour, Paul noticed as he made his way to the wardroom. Newly revived
people, clutching the handrails, were jerkily exercising stiff limbs and
trying to focus body and mind on the suddenly hazardous task of remaining
upright. The old Yoko would be packed tighter than reserve rations while
colonists awaited their turn to reach the surface. But with the promise of
the freedom of a whole new world as the reward of patience, the crowding
could be endured.
Having paid close attention to the various probe reports, Paul had
already decided which of the three recommended landing sites he would
choose. Naturally he would accord his staff and the other two captains the
courtesy of a hearing, but the obvious choice was the vast plateau below a
group of strato volcanoes. The current weather there was clement, and the
nearly level expanse was adequate to accommodate all six shuttles. The