"Frank Herbert - Seed Stock" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank) Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Seed Stock Frank Herbert, 1970 When the sun had sunk almost to the edge of the purple ocean, hanging there like a giant orange ball-much larger than the sun of Mother Earth which he remembered with such nostalgia-Kroudar brought his fishermen back to the harbor. A short man, Kroudar gave the impression of heaviness, but under his shipcloth motley he was as scrawny as any of the others, all bone and stringy muscle. It was the sickness of this planet, the doctors told him. They called it 'body burdens,' a subtle thing of differences in chemistry, gravity, diurnal periods and even the lack of a tidal moon. Kroudar's yellow hair, his one good feature, was uncut and contained in a protective square of red cloth. Beneath this was a wide, low forehead, deeply sunken large eyes of a washed-out blue, a crooked nose that was splayed and pushed in, thick lips over large and unevenly spaced yellow teeth, and a melon chin receding into a short, ridged neck. Dividing his attention between sails and shore, Kroudar steered with one bare foot on the tiller. They had been all day out in the up-coast current netting the shrimp-liketrodi which formed the colony's main source of edible protein. There were nine boats and the men in all of them were limp with fatigue, silent, eyes closed or open and staring at nothing. The evening breeze rippled its dark lines across the harbor, moved the sweat-matted yellow hair on Kroudar's neck. It bellied the shipcloth sails and gave the heavily loaded boats that last necessary surge to carry them up into the strand. Men moved then. Sails dropped with a slatting and rasping. Each thing was done with sparse motion in the weighted slowness of their fatigue. Trodihad been thick in the current out there, and Kroudar pushed his people to their limit. It had not taken much push. They all understood the need. The swarmings and runnings of useful creatures on this planet had not been clocked with any reliable precision. Things here exhibited strange gaps and breaks in seeming regularity. Thetrodi might vanish at any moment into some unknown place as they had been known to do before. The colony had experienced hunger and children crying for food that must be rationed. Men seldom spoke of this any more, but they moved with the certain knowledge of it. More than three years now, Kroudar thought, as he shouldered a dripping bag oftrodi and pushed his weary feet through the sand, climbing the beach toward the storage huts and racks where the sea creatures were dried for processing. It had been more than three years since their ship had come down from space. |
|
|