"Harry Harrison - 50 in 50 - Fifty Stories in Fifty Years" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

stopped in the doorway, quivering fingers on his rosary, uncertain. Joze stood over the bed, opening and
closing his hands, just as unsure. What could he do? The creature was wounded, perhaps dying,
something must be done. But what?
The distant droning whine of a car's engine pushed into the hot room and he almost sighed with relief.
It was his car, he recognized the sound, and it would be bringing the doctor. The car stopped outside and
the doors slammed, but no one appeared.
Joze waited tensely, realizing that the townspeople must be talking to the doctor, telling him what had
happened. A slow minute passed and Joze started from the room, but stopped before he passed the
priest, still standing just inside the door. What was keeping them? His window faced on an alleyway and
he could not see the street in front of the building. Then the outside door opened and he could hear the
widow's whispered voice, "In there, straight through."
There were two men, both dusty from the road. One was obviously the doctor, a short and dumpy
man clutching a worn black bag, his bald head beaded with sweat. Next to him was a young man, tanned
and windburned, dressed like the other fishermen: this must be Petar the ex-partisan.
It was Petar who went to the bed first, the doctor just stood clutching his bag and blinking about the
room.
"What is this thing?" Petar asked, then bent over, hands on his knees, to stare in through the
faceplate. "Whatever it is, it sure is ugly."
"I don't know. It's from another planet, that's the only thing I know. Now move aside so the doctor
can look." Joze waved and the doctor moved reluctantly forward. "You must be Dr. Bratos. I'm
Ku-kovic, professor of nuclear physics at the university in Ljubljana." Perhaps waving around a little
prestige might get this man's reluctant cooperation.
"Yes, how do you do. Very pleased to meet you, Professor, an honor I assure you. But what it is
you wish me to do, I do not understand?" He shook ever so lightly as he spoke and Joze realized that the
man was very old, well into his eighties or more. He would have to be patient.
"This alien . . . whatever it is ... is injured and unconscious. We must do what we can to save its life."
"But what can we do? The thing is sealed in a metal garmentтАФ look, it is filled with water. I am a
doctor, a medical man, but not for animals, creatures like that."
"Neither am I, Doctor. No one on earth is. But we must do our best. We must get the suit off the
alien and then discover what we can do to help."
"It is impossible! The fluid inside of it, it will run out."
"Obviously, so we will have to take precautions. We will have to determine what the liquid is, then
get more of it and fill the bathtub in the next room. I have been looking at the suit and the helmet seems to
be a separate piece, clamped into position. If we loosen the clamps we should be able to get a sample."
For precious seconds Dr. Bratos stood there, nibbling at his lip, before he spoke. "Yes, I suppose
we could, but what could we catch the sample in? This is most difficult and irregular."
"It doesn't make any difference what we catch the sample in," Joze snapped, frustration pushing at his
carefully held control. He turned to Petar who was standing silently by, smoking a cigarette in his cupped
hand. "Will you help? Get a soup plate, anything from the kitchen."
Petar simply nodded and left. There were muffled complaints from the widow, but he was back
quickly with her best pot.
"That's good," Joze said, lifting the alien's head, "now slide it under here." With the pot in position he
twisted one of the clamps; it snapped open but nothing else happened. A hairline opening was visible at
the junction, but it stayed dry. But when Joze opened the second clamp there was a sudden gush of clear
liquid under pressure, and before he fumbled the clamp shut again the pot was half full. He lifted the alien
again and, without being told, Petar pulled the pot free and put it on the table by the window. "It's hot.тАЭ
he said.
Joze touched the outside of the container. "Warm not hot, about one hundred twenty degrees I
would guess. A hot ocean on a hot planet."
"But... is it water?" Dr. Bratos asked haltingly.