"Brad Ferguson - To Tell The Troof" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ferguson Brad)

тАЬTaken care of,тАЭ Zweebl told McAleer. тАЬWater be here soon.тАЭ
тАЬWas there a problem?тАЭ
тАЬNot one damn bit. Oops, sorry again. To continue. Also asked for
human-size pallet тАФ um, stretcher тАФ to move woman pilot. Never mind
taking off suit now. Presume you want to get away from big fiery mess?тАЭ
тАЬYou presume correctly,тАЭ McAleer said. тАЬIn fact, why donтАЩt we try to
move her without the stretcher? SheтАЩs not very big, although the suit
weighs. IтАЩd like to get her behind the building, just in case that ship has
another surprise in store for us.тАЭ
тАЬBetter pray it doesnтАЩt,тАЭ Zweebl said. тАЬI take feet, you take head?тАЭ
тАЬRight. Try not to jiggle her around too much. Uh, just let me unhook
the backpack first.тАЭ The straps of the heavy pack unbuckled easily; it
dropped away.
The weight of the woman and the suit was just within the ability of
McAleer and Zweebl to cope. The priest noted with some anger that none
of the admin building personnel had made a move to assist them. McAleer
fumed silently but said nothing; it was now as it ever had been, ever since
the priest had arrived on Henderson. It was a few hundred difficult feet
back to the rear of the admin building, and Zweebl moved even more
slowly than the old priest, but they made it.
The handle controlling the roof of the gevster was starboard amidships,
just within reach of McAleerтАЩs foot. He tromped on the handle and the roof
rose, squealing on its hinges. McAleer and Zweebl carefully placed the
still-unconscious pilot in the rear seat; Zweebl strapped her in.
тАЬHey!тАЭ came a high-pitched cry. тАЬZweebl! You wanted water? Got some.
CanтАЩt find stretcher. Probably got swiped by ilantha con artist.тАЭ
Zweebl grew even more purple with anger. McAleer saw Klatho coming
toward them from the admin building, a standard-issue canteen in hand.
Zweebl looked at McAleer inquiringly; the priest nodded.
тАЬBring, already, fool,тАЭ called Zweebl. тАЬTime wasting.тАЭ
Klatho shrugged, uncaring. тАЬSorry. Had to send others to fight big fire
caused by priestтАЩs compatriot. Remember?тАЭ he had the air of one pointing
out the obvious to a simpleton. тАЬDonтАЩt suppose you two want to assist in
fierce battle, maybe?тАЭ
Zweebl flared. тАЬAs much as you assist us in heroic feat of dragging
woman off field, incompetent!тАЭ
тАЬWoman? What that?тАЭ
тАЬHah! Uneducated ass!тАЭ
McAleer held up a hand. тАЬThank you for the water, Klatho,тАЭ he said
mildly, taking the canteen. тАЬZweebl, is there a cloth of some sort in the
car?тАЭ
Zweebl gave a quick look. тАЬNope. Tissues in box, though, under seat.тАЭ
He fetched them.
тАЬThank you.тАЭ McAleer took several and wet them, then began wiping
the pilotтАЩs face. She stirred after a moment; her eyes fluttered, then
opened.
тАЬMade it?тАЭ she softly asked. тАЬMade it?тАЭ
McAleer nodded. тАЬYes, yes,тАЭ he said kindly and slowly, so she would
understand. тАЬYou made it. YouтАЩre safe on Henderson. WeтАЩll help you.тАЭ
The woman sighed something тАФ whether acknowledgement or relief or