"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 5 - Flinx in Flux" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

had sunk she would have had no choice but to swim or walk. That scenario made
some sense. The water would also mute any emergency beacon signal. Maybe she was
more unlucky than dumb.
He had no trouble picking her up and carrying her back to the crawler. Getting
her inside was another matter. She was not that heavy, but he had to rig a lift
with some rope and haul her up hand over hand. If not for the added muscle he
had put on this past year, be could not have done it. Pip kept clear, watching,
while Scrap darted anxiously around the limp body, no doubt curious as to why a
living human being should be devoid of emotion.
The four passenger seats could be folded flat, making beds for two riders. He
put her in the back of the crawler, then punched up the location of the
first‑aid kit.
As would be expected for a rental vehicle, the instructions on the
self‑injecting ampoules in the kit were simple and self‑explanatory. Some looked
pretty old, but none had reached their official expiration dates. The bites were
easy enough to treat. Salve for the millimite scars, iofluorodene to kill the
eggs the drill bugs had laid in her muscles. He also pumped her full of general
antiseptic and fungicide. None of the ampoules lit up during injection, so she
was not allergic to the stuff he was dumping into her system. He applied
intravenous antibiotic and a spray over the bruises and cuts, then sat back and
surveyed his handiwork. The crawler's air‑conditioning had replaced the hot air
with a fresh soothing coolness.
The bruises on her face and body troubled him, but there was nothing he could do
for her appearance. The crawler's medkit was designed to keep people alive, not


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repair them cosmetically. Well, it would not bother her as long as she was
unconscious. The best thing would be to get her to the hospital at Alaspinport.
She had a slight fever and was badly dehydrated despite the fact that she had
obviously spent some time in the river. Either she had been afraid to drink the
perfectly potable water or she had been unable to. He had no idea when she had
last eaten, but her stomach and intestines felt anything but full.
After waiting an hour for the medication to settle in and take hold, he gave her
two ampoules of multipurpose nutrients and vitamins in a sodium solution. The
injected broth would give her strength and allow her system to begin some
serious repair work.
An hour later his efforts were rewarded. She turned her head to her right and
moved one arm several centimeters. Her neuromuscular system was functioning,
then. The portable emergency scanner had not revealed any internal injuries, the
light staying in the healthy pink range as he had run the pickup over her body.
It had beeped a couple of times when he had passed it over the severest bruises.
If it had gone over into the red or purple, that would have been an indication
of broken bones or worse.
Giving her a last glance, he returned to the driver's seat. Back in Mimmisompo
someone would be worrying about her, be it relative, traveling companion, or
research society. He would find out and turn her over to them.
She really was quite pretty, he thought as he put the crawler in drive. The