"Heinlein, Robert A - Nothing Ever Happens On The Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

УBut the Sun is overhead.Ф
УWas when we started. Now itТs fifteen, twenty de
grees to the west. Now listen: these caves must have been big blow holes once, gas pockets. You search off in that direction and find us a blow hole thatТs not choked with sand.Ф
УIТll do my darndest!Ф
УHow far away were the hills when we got caught?Ф
Bruce tried to remember. УHalf a mile, maybe.Ф
УCheck. You wonТt find what we want tied to me with five or six hundred feet of line. Take that pad of paper in my pouch. Blaze your wayЧand be darn sure you blaze enough!Ф
ССI will!ТТ
УAttaboy! Good luck.Ф
Bruce stood up.

It was the same tedious, depressing business as before. Bruce stretched the line, then set out at the end of it, dropping bits of paper and counting his steps. Several times he was sure that he was under the hills, only to come to an impasse. Twice he skirted the heaps that marked other morning glorys. Each time he retraced his steps he gathered up his blazes, both to save paper and to keep from confusing himself.
Once, he saw a glimmer of light and his heart poundedЧbut it filtered down from a hole too difficult even for himself and utterly impossible for Sam.
His air got low; he paid no attention, other than to adjust his mix to keep it barely in the white. He went on searching.
A passage led to the left, then down; he began to doubt the wisdom of going further and stopped to check the darkness. At first his eyes saw nothing, then it seemed as if there might be a suggestion of light ahead. Eye fatigue? Possibly. He went another hundred feet and tried again. It was light!
Minutes later he shoved his shoulders up through a twisted hole and gazed out over the burning plain.

УHi!Ф Sam greeted him. УI thought you had fallen down a hole.
УDarn near did. Sam, I found it!Ф
УKnew you would. LetТs get going.Ф
УRight. IТll dig out my other ski.Ф
УNope.Ф
УWhy not?Ф
УLook at your air gauge. We arenТt going anywhere on skis.Ф
УHuh? Yeah, I guess not.Ф They abandoned their loads, except for air and water bottles. The dark trek was made piggy-back, where the ceiling permitted. Some places Bruce half dragged his partner. Other places they threaded on hands and knees with Sam pulling his bad leg painfully behind him.
Bruce climbed out first, having slung Sam in a bowline before he did so. Sam gave little help in getting out; once they were above ground Bruce picked him up and set him against a rock. He then touched helmets. УThere, fellow! We made it!Ф
Sam did not answer.
Bruce peered in; SamТs features were slack, eyes half closed. A check of his belt told why; the blood-oxygen indicator showed red.
SamТs intake valve was already wide open; Bruce moved fast, giving himself a quick shot of air, then transferring his bottle to Sam. He opened it wide.
He could see SamТs pointer crawl up even as his own dropped toward the red. Bruce had air in his suit for three or four minutes if he held still.
He did not hold still. He hooked his intake hose to the manifold of the single bottle now attached to SamТs suit and opened his valve. His own indicator stopped dropping toward the red. They were Siamese twins now, linked by one partly-exhausted bottle of utterly necessary gas. Bruce put an arm around Sam, settled SamТs head on his shoulder, helmet to helmet, and throttled down both valves until each was barely in the white. He gave Sam more margin than himself, then settled down to wait. The rock under them was in shadow, though the Sun still baked the plain. Bruce
looked out, searching for anyone or anything, then extended his aerial. УMТaidez!Ф he called. УHelp us! WeТre lost.Ф
He could hear Sam muttering. УMay day!Ф Sam echoed into his dead radio. УMay day! WeТre lost.Ф
Bruce cradled the delirious boy in his arm and repeated again, УMТaidez! Get a bearing on us.Ф He paused, then echoed, УMay day! May day!Ф
After a while he readjusted the valves, then went back to repeating endlessly, УMay day! Get a bearing on us.Ф
He did not feel it when a hand clasped his shoulder. He was still muttering УMay day!Ф when they dumped him into the air lock of the desert car.

Mr. Andrews visited him in the infirmary at Base Camp. УHow are you, Bruce?Ф
УMe? IТm all right, sir. I wish theyТd let me get up.Ф
УMy instructions. So IТll know where you are.Ф The Scoutmaster smiled; Bruce blushed.
УHowТs Sam?Ф he asked.
УHeТll get by. Cold burns and a knee that will bother him a while. ThatТs all.Ф
УGee, IТm glad.Ф
УThe troop is leaving. IТm turning you over to Troop Three, Mr. Harkness. Sam will go back with the grub car.
УUh, I think I could travel with the Troop, sir.Ф
УPerhaps so, but I want you to stay with Troop Three. You need field experience.Ф
УUhЧФ Bruce hesitated, wondering how to say it. УMr. Andrews?Ф
УYes?Ф
УI might as well go back. IТve learned something. You were right. A fellow canТt get to be an old Moon hand in three weeks. Uh . . . I guess I was just conceited.Ф
УIs that all?Ф