"Harrison, Harry - Deathworld 1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

"That sounds like a description of the medikit." Jason touched ti button at his waist that dropped the medikit into his hand. "I have mu here. It analyzes and treats most. . ."
"Would you use it on me?" Rhes broke in, his voice suddenly urger "I'm sorry," Jason said. "I should have realized." He stepped forwa and pressed the machine over one of the inflamed areas on Rhes's che~ The operation light came on and the thin shaft of the analyzer prol slid down. When it withdrew the device hummed, then clicked thr~ times as three separate hypodermic needles lanced into the skin. Thi the light went out.
"Is that all?" Rhes asked, as he watched Jason stow the medikit ba in his belt.
Jason nodded, then looked up and noticed the wet marks of tears the sick man's face. Rhes became aware at the same time and brush at them angrily.
"When a man is sick," he growled, "the body and all its senses becon
traitor. I don't think I have cried since I was a child-but you must i
alize it's not myself I'm crying for. It's the untold thousands of my pe
ple who have died for lack of that little device you treat so casuall)
"Surely you have medicines, doctors of your own?"
"Herb doctors and witch doctors," Rues said, consigning them all oblivion with a chop of his hand. "The few hard working and honc men are hampered by the fact that the faith healers can usually cu better than their strongest potion."
The talking had tired Rhes. He stopped suddenly and closed his ey~ On his chest, the inflamed areas were already losing their angry col
as the injections took effect. Jason glanced around the room, looking for clues to the mystery of these people.
Floor and walls were made of wood lengths fitteчl together, free of paint or decoration. They looked simple and crude, fit only for the savages he had expected to meet. Or were they crude? The wood had a sweeping, flame-like grain. When he bent close he saw that wax had been rubbed over the wood to bring out this pattern. Was this the act of savages-or of artistic men seeking to make the most of simple materials? The final effect was far superior to the drab-paint and riveted-steel rooms of the city dwelling Pyrrans. Wasn't it true that both ends of the artistic scale were dominated by simplicity? The untutored aborigine made a simple expression of a clear idea, and created beauty. At the other extreme, the sophisticated critic rejected overelaboration and decoration and sought the truthful clarity of uncluttered art. At which end of the scale was he looking now?
These men were savages, he had been told that. They dressed in furs and spoke a slurred and broken language, at least Naxa did. Rhes admitted he preferred faith healers to doctors. But, if all this were true, where did the communicator fit into the picture? Or the glowing ceiling that illuminated the room with a soft light?
Rhes opened his eyes and stared at Jason, as if seeing him for the first time. "Who are you?" he asked. "And what are you doing here?"
There was a cold menace in his words and Jason understood why. The city Pyrrans hated the "grubbers" and, without a doubt, the feeling was mutual. Naxa's axe had proved that. Naxa had entered silently while they talked, and stood with his fingers touching the haft of this same axe. Jason knew his life was still in jeopardy, until he gave an
answer that satisfied these men. -
He couldn't tell the truth. If they once suspected he was spying among them to aid the city people, it would be the end. Nevertheless, he had to be free to talk about the survival problem.
The answer hit him as soon as he had stated the problem. All this had only taken an instant to consider, as he turned back to face the invalid, and he answered at once. Trying to keep his voice normal and unconcerned.
"I'm Jason dinAh, an ecologist, so you see I have the best reasons in the universe for visiting this planet-"
"What is an ecologist?" Rhes broke in. There was nothing in his voice to indicate whether he meant the question seriously, or as a trap. All traces of the ease of their earlier conversation were gone; his voice had the deadliness of a stingwing's poison. Jason chose his words carefully.
"Simply stated, it is that branch of biology that considers the relatior between organisms and their environment. How climatic and othc factors affect the life forms, and how the life forms in turn affect eac other and the environment." That much Jason knew was true-but 11 really knew very little more about the subject, so he moved on quickl~
"I heard reports of this planet, and finally came here to study it firs hand. I did what work I could in the shelter of the city, but it wasn enough. The people there think I'm crazy, but they finally agreed let me make a trip out here."
"What arrangements have been made for your return?" Nas snapped.
"None," Jason told him. "They seemed quite sure that I would F killed instantly and had no hope of me coming back. They refused t let me go on my own and I had to break away."
This answer seemed to satisfy Rhes and his face cracked into a mirti less smile. "They would think that, those junkmen. Can't move a met~ outside their walls without an armor-plated machine big as a ban What did they tell you about us?"
Again Jason knew a lot depended on his answer. This time ii thought carefully before speaking.
"Well, perhaps I'll get that axe in the back of my neck for sayin this-but I have to be honest. You must know what they think. Thc told me you were filthy and ignorant savages-who smelled. And youwell, had curious customs ~u practiced with the animals. In exchan~ for food, they traded you beads and knives. . .
Both Pyrrans broke into a convulsion of laughter at this. Rh~ stopped soon, from weakness, but Naxa laughed himself into a coug] ing fit and had to splash water over his head from a gourd jug.
"That I believe well enough," Rhes said. "It sounds like the stupidii they would talk. Those people know nothing of the world they live ii I hope the rest of what you said is true, but even if it is not, you ai welcome here. You are from off-world, that I know. No junkman won] have lifted a finger to save my life. You are the first off-worlder my pe ple have ever known and for that you are doubly welcome. We wi help you in any way we can. My arm is your arm."
These last words had a ritual sound to them and, when Jason r peated them, Naxa nodded at the correctness of this. At the same tim Jason felt that they were more than empty ritual. Interdependenc meant survival on Pyrrus, and he knew that these people stood togeth to the death against the mortal dangers around them. He hoped ti ritual would include him in that protective sphere.
"That is enough for tonight," Rhes said. "The spotted sickness h:
weakened me, and your medicine has turned me to jelly. You will stay here, Jason. There is a blanket, but no bed, at least for now."
Enthusiasm had carried Jason this far, making him forget the two-G exertions of the long day. Now fatigue hit him a physical blow. He had dim memories of refusing food and rolling in the blanket on the floor. After that, oblivion.
17
Every square inch of his body ached where the doubled gravity hi pressed his flesh to the unyielding wood of the floor. His eyes we gummy and his mouth was filled with an indescribable taste that can off in chunks. Sitting up was an effort and he had to stifle a groan as h joints cracked.
"Good day, Jason," Rhes called from the bed. "If I didn't believe i medicine so strongly, I would be tempted to say there is a miracle i your machine that has cured me overnight."
There was no doubt that he was on the mend. The inflamed patch had vanished and the burning light was gone from his eyes. He sa propped up on the bed, watching the morning sun melt the night's hai storm into the fields.
"There's meat in tb~ cabinet there," he said, "and either water or vi~ to drink."
The visk proved to be a distilled beverage of extraordinary poten that instantly cleared the fog from Jason's brain, though it did leave slight ringing in his ears. And the meat was a tenderly smoked joisi the best food he had tasted since leaving Darkhan. Taken together, thi restored his faith in life and the future. He lowered his glass with relaxed sigh and looked around.
With the pressures of immediate survival and exhaustion remove his thoughts returned automatically to his problem. What were the:
people really like-and how had they managed to sur~ive in the dead wilderness? In the city he had been told they were savages. Yet the was a carefully tended and repaired communicator on the wall. Ar by the door a crossbow that fired machined metal bolts; he could see ti tool marks still visible on their shanks. The one thing he needed w more information. He could start by getting rid of some of his nii information.
"Rhes, you laughed when I told you what the city people said, aboi trading you trinkets for food. What do they really trade you?"
"Anything within certain limits," Rhes said. "Small manufactun
items, such as electronic components for our communicators. Rustless alloys we can't make in our forges, cutting tools, atomic-electric convertens that produce power from any radioactive element, Things like that. Within reason they'll trade anything we ask that isn't on the forbidden list. They need the food badly."
"And the items on the forbidden list-?"
"Weapons of course, or anything that might be made into a powerful weapon. They know we make gunpowder so we can't get anything like large casting or seamless tubing we could make into heavy gun barrels. We drill our own rifle barrels by hand, though the crossbow is quiet and faster in the jungle. Then they don't like us to know very much, so the only reading matter that gets to us are tech maintenance manuals, empty of basic theory.
"The last banned category you know about-medicine. This is the one thing I cannot understand, that makes me burn with hatred with every death they might have prevented."
"I know their reasons," Jason said.
"Then tell me, because I can think of none."