"Keith Laumer - Galactic Odyssey" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laumer Keith) тАЬEh? Oh, itтАЩs a somewhat archaic dialect of English. Been some three hundred years since his
lordship last visited Earth. Now, thatтАЩs enough gossip, JongoтАФтАЭ тАЬItтАЩs Billy DanтАФтАЭ тАЬIтАЩll call you Jongo. Shorter. Now letтАЩs get along to Hold F and you can earn your keep by polishing a spot of brightwork in Environmental.тАЭ The polishing turned out to be a job of scraping slimy deposits off the valves and piping. Sir Orfeo left me to it while he went back up and joined in whatever they were doing on the other side of the forbidden door. 4 One day Sir Orfeo showed me a star chart and pointed out the relative locations of Earth, Gar 28, the world we were headed for at the moment, and Zeridajh, far in toward the big gob of stars at the center of the Galaxy. тАЬWeтАЩll never get there,тАЭ I said. тАЬI read somewhere it takes light a hundred thousand years to cross the Galaxy; Gar 28 must be about ten light-years away; and Zeridajh is thousands!тАЭ He laughed. тАЬThe limiting velocity of light is a myth, Jongo,тАЭ he said. тАЬLike the edge of the world your early sailors were afraid theyтАЩd fall over тАФor the sound barrier you used to worry about. This vessel could reach Zeridajh in eighteen months, if she stretched her legs.тАЭ I wanted to ask him why Lord Desroy picked such a distant part of the sky to go hunting in, but IтАЩd learned not to be nosy. Whatever the reasons were, they were somebodyтАЩs secret. After my first few weeks away from all time indicators, I began to develop my own internal time-sense, independent of the three-hour cycles that were the Galactic shipboard standard. I just about how long IтАЩd been away from Earth. I might have been wrong тАФthere was no way to checkтАФbut the sense was very definite, and always consistent. I had been aboard just under six weeks when Sir Orfeo took me to the personal equipment room one day and fitted me out with t hermal boots, leggings, gloves, a fancy pair of binocular sunglasses, breathing apparatus, a backpack, and a temperature suit. He spent an hour fussing over me, getting everything fitted just right. Then he told me to go and tie down in my digs. I did, and for the next hour the yacht shook and shrilled and thumped. When the noise stopped, Sir Orfeo came along and yelled to me to get into my kit and come down to F Hold. When I got there, walking pretty heavy with all the gear I was carrying or had strapped to my back, he was there, checking items off a list. тАЬA little more juldee next time, Jongo,тАЭ he snapped at me. тАЬCome along now; IтАЩll want your help in getting the ground -car out shipshape.тАЭ It was a powerful -looking vehicle, wide, squatty, with tracks like a small tank, a plastic bubble dome over the top. There was a roomy compartment up front full of leather and inlaid wood and bright work, and a smaller space behind, with two hard seats. Lord Desroy showed up in his Frank Buck bush jacket and jodhpurs and a wide-brimmed hat; the Lady Raire wore her white coverall. Sir Orfeo was dressed in his usual tailored gray with a filament pistol strapped to his hip and a canteen and bush knife on the other side. We all wore temperature suits, which were like long-handled under wear, under the coveralls. тАЬKeep your helmet closed, Jongo,тАЭ Sir Orfeo told me. тАЬToxic atmosphere, you know.тАЭ He pushed a button and a door opened up in the side of the hold, and I was looking out at a plain of bluish grass. A wave of heat rolled in and the thermostat in my suit clicked, and right away it turned cool against my skin. Sir Orfeo started up and the car lifted a couple of inches from the floor, swung around, and slid out under the open sky of a new world. |
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