"Keith Fenwick - Skid 01 - A Planet Called Skid" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fenwick Keith)

squirting a stream of urine at it, then trotted off his tail wagging jauntily. This was fresh turf
and as the boss dog here, he was staking his claim.
"What's going on?" Bruce managed to blurt out, pinching himself at the same time to make
sure that he was indeed still alive and maybe experiencing some extra surreal dream.
Myfair frowned, wondering whether the offworlder was as stupid as he looked. Surely that was
obvious?
"You are aboard a Skidian deep space patrol vessel in orbit around your home planet," he
stated the obvious just in case.
"Bullshit. You're having me on." The alien, if that's what he was pretending to be, spoke with a
mid-Atlantic drawl that was almost too good to be true. Bruce was sure now that he must be
dreaming. On the other hand, a victim of a CIA plot maybe!
"Kindly step this way and look into this monitor."
Bruce peered into the monitor for perhaps thirty seconds, and then stepped back, stunned at
the sight. This was either some kind of elaborate trick, or what? He wondered. On the screen
the earth had unfolded like a satellite picture from a television weather forecast. Bruce stepped
forward for another look and watched the earth's surface disappear behind them at an alarming
rate. They were flying above a sea. Which sea? He wondered. Not liking to ask, he glanced at
Myfair, scratched his nose, and reached into his pocket for his smokes.
With a nonchalance he certainly did not feel Bruce lit the cigarette and took a deep puff.
Myfair or whatever his stupid sounding name was, certainly wasn't pulling his leg. He might not
be on a space ship but he was in the air.
Too astonished by the idea to feel much fear or anxiety, Bruce asked, surprised at the
steadiness of his voice. "Well what happens now?"
Bruce had already decided that Myfair was neither God nor an angel and that he wasn't in
heaven or some other dream world. That vision had been replaced by a sudden fear of being
spirited off to be an exhibit at an alien zoo or research specimen at an alien laboratory.
Adrenaline coursing through his veins, his muscles tensed, Bruce prepared to run. Anywhere.
Then he realized there was nowhere to go.
Myfair seemed to sense his apprehension and laid a kindly hand on his arm. "Do not worry, we
merely wish to make use of your talents, for which you will be well rewarded," he lied.
"Eh? Whatdoyou mean?" Bruce asked, the question emerging from his mouth as one word.
"We have traveled to your world." Myfair stopped short at the point of explaining the purpose
of their journey as he caught sight of his fellow crewmembers watching him. He realized he had
some explaining of his own to do.
"All will be revealed to you in good time. Now you must be tired. Let me show you to our
hospitality suite." Myfair's tone was diplomatic, but the grip on Bruce's arm convinced him he
had little choice in the matter so he complied without a struggle. The alien was far too big to
argue with.
Bruce was guided towards an unmarked wall, which opened to reveal a large empty space. He
stood hesitantly on the threshold until Myfair gave him a firm shove.
"Please ask your companions to enter with you."
"Get in." His heart beating even faster now, Bruce stood in the center of the room, anticipating
who knew what.
"You will be comfortable in here while I consult with my associates."
Bruce tried to decide whether there was a hint of malice in Myfair's voice. Deciding there
wasn't, he relaxed a little.
Myfair motioned to a small keyboard on the wall beside the doorway. "These buttons will call
up any amenity you may require." He pressed one to demonstrate, and a toilet appeared. A
good old-fashioned dunny, complete with a wooden seat quite out of place in the stark sterile
chamber.