"Harry Harrison - Bill 2 - On The Planet Of Robot Slaves" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

forthcoming since he was just as43baffled as the others, although he was too
pompous to admit it. "The explanation of the phenomena is obvious and a
detailed description will be forthcoming as soon as I have completed my
investigation. I'll need more specimens. Anyone have a wirecutter?" Cy did
and he snipped off samples as instructed. Meta quickly had enough of this
metallurgical horticulture and went back to their camp. And resumed shouting
and shooting. The others joined her and the surviving rats fled into the
desert. Praktis scowled at the torn open boxes of supplies. "You, Third
Lieutenant, get to work. I want the food repacked and rat-proofed at once.
Issue orders. But not you, Cy. I want your help. Over this way." Bill
seized up a torn plastic container of compressed nutrient bars. Known
jocularly to the troops as Iron Rations. Even the rats hadn't been able to
dent them; broken rat teeth were stuck in the wrapper. After boiling for
twentyfour hours they could be broken with a hammer. Bill searched for
something edible and a little more tender. He found some tubes of emergency
space rations labeled Yumee-Gunge. The others were watching him intently so he
passed the tubes around and they all squeezed and sucked and made retching
noises. The gunge was loathsome but promised to sustain life. Although the
quality of life that it sustained was open to question. After this repulsive
repast they worked together in harmony since the pitiful pile of supplies was
all that stood between them and starvation. Or thirsting to death, which is
faster. They had just finished when Captain Bly groaned and rolled over,
sat up and made drysmacking noises with his mouth. Bill passed him a tube of
Yumee-Gunge and he screamed hoarsely44when he tasted it. He alternately
sucked and groaned, shuddering the entire time. Praktis appeared and bulged
his eyes at the performance. "Is that stuff really that bad?" "Worse,"
Bill said and the others nodded solemn agreement. "Then Ill pass for the
moment. And deliver my scientific report. Those plants with the flowers are
alive and growing in the sand. They are not organic carbon-based life as we
know it, but are solid metal." "Impossible," Meta observed. "Well,
thank you Engine Mate First Class for the scientific information. But I think
that I prefer my rather extensive knowledge to yours. There is no reason why a
life form cannot be metal instead of carbon based. I can't for a moment think
why it would want to-but let us leave this interesting topic for now and
pursue the even more interesting one of our staying alive. Report, Third
Lieutenant, food and water status." "Food, inedible even by the rats. The
water should last about a week with rationing." "Bowb that for a game of
darts," Praktis observed gloomily, sat down heavily and stared unseeingly at
the metal flower in his hand. "Not much choice. We stay here and starve for a
week then die of thirst. Or we march off in the direction of the lights I saw
last night and see what's up. Let's see a show of hands. All for staying and
dying." Not a finger twitched and he nodded. "Nowwho is for marching out
of here?" The response was the same. Praktis sighed. "I see that the
waters of democracy have caressed few fevered brows around here. So let's hear
it for the old fascist pecking order. We will march!"45 They jumped to
their feet, swayed forward awaiting instructions. "You do it, Bill, this must
be the sort of thing you were trained for. Divide what we got five ways and
fix packs or something that we can carry the stuff in." "But-there are six
of us, sir." "I issue orders, I don't take them. Five. Report to me when
this task is done." He rooted about in Bill's barracks bag as he spoke and