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

"I suppose it isтАФbut aren't you the one to find out? Is it fresh water or sea water?"
"I'm no chemist. . . how can I tell? ... It is very complicated."
Petar laughed and took Joze's water glass from the nightstand. "That's not so hard to find out.тАЭ he
said, and dipped it into the pot. He raised the half-filled glass, sniffed at it, then took a sip and puckered
his lips. "Tastes like ordinary sea water to me, but there's another taste, sort of bitter."
 Joze took the glass from him. "This could be dangerous," the doctor protested, but they ignored him.
Yes, salt water, hot salt water with a sharpness to it. "It tastes like more than a trace of iodine. Can you
test for the presence of iodine, Doctor?"
"Here . . . no, it is quite complicated. In the laboratory with the correct equipmentтАФ" his voice trailed
off as he opened his bag on the table and groped through it. He brought his hand out empty. "In the
laboratory."
"We have no laboratory or any other assistance, Doctor. We will have to be satisfied with what we
have here, ordinary sea water will have to do."
"I'll get a bucket and fill the tub," Petar said.
"Good. But don't fill the bathtub yet. Bring the water into the kitchen and we'll heat it, then pour it in."
"Right." Petar brushed past the silent and staring priest and was gone. Joze looked at Father Perc
and thought of the people of the village.
"Stay here, Doctor," he said. "This alien is your patient and I don't think anyone other than you should
come near. Just sit by him."
"Yes, of course, that is correct," Dr. Bratos said relievedly, pulling the chair over and sitting down.
The breakfast fire was still burning in the big stove and flamed up when Joze slid in more sticks. On
the wall hung the big copper wash-tub and he dropped it onto the stove with a clang. Behind him the
widow's bedroom door opened, but slammed shut again when he turned. Petar came in with a bucket of
water and poured it into the tub.
"What are the people doing?" Joze asked.
"Just milling about and bothering each other. They won't be any trouble. If you're worried about
them, I can drive back to Osor and bring the police, or telephone someone."
"No, I should have thought of that earlier. Right now I need you here. You're the only one who isn't
either senile or ignorant."
Peter smiled. "Ill get some more water."
The bathtub was small and the washtub big. When the heated water was dumped in it filled it more
than halfway, enough to cover the small alien. There was a drain from the bathtub but no faucets: it was
usually filled with a hose from the sink. Joze picked up the alien, cradling it like a child in his arms, and
carried it into the bath. The eyes were open again, following his every movement, but making no protest.
He lowered the creature gently into the water, then straightened a moment and took a deep breath.
"Helmet first, then we'll try to figure out how the suit opens." He bent and slowly twisted the clamps.
With all four clamps open the helmet moved freely. He opened it a wide crack, ready to close it
quickly if there were any signs of trouble. The ocean water would be flowing in now, mixing with the alien
water, yet the creature made no complaint. After a minute Joze slowly pulled the helmet off, cradling the
alien's head with one hand so that it would not bump to the bottom of the tub.
Once the helmet was clear the pulpy crest above the eyes sprang up like a coxcomb, reaching up
over the top of the green head. A wire ran from the helmet to a shiny bit of metal on one side of the
creature's skull. There was an indentation there and Joze slowly pulled a metal plug out, perhaps an
earphone of some kind. The alien was opening and closing its mouth, giving a glimpse of bony yellow
ridges inside, and a very low humming could be heard.
Petar pressed his ear against the outside of the metal tube. "The thing is talking or something, I can
hear it."
"Let me have your stethoscope, Doctor," Joze said, but when the doctor did not move he dug it from
the bag himself. YesтАФwhen he pressed it to the metal he could hear a rising and falling whine, speech of
a kind.