"Keith Laumer - Hybrid" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laumer Keith)

own mass.
Now, mercilessly, the storm struck again, thundering out of the
southwest to assault the tree with blind ferocity. Shock cables snapped
like gossamer; great slabs of rock groaned and parted, with detonations
lost in the howl of the wind. In the trunk, pressures built,
agonizingly.
Four hundred yards south of the tap root, a crack opened in the sodden
slope, gaping wider. Wind-driven water poured in, softening the soil,
loosening the grip of a million tiny rootlets. Now the major roots
shifted, slipping....
Far above, the majestic crown of the Yanda tree yielded imperceptibly
to the irresistible torrent of air. The giant north buttress, forced
against the underlying stone, shrieked as tortured cells collapsed,
then burst with a shattering roar audible even above the storm. A great
are of earth to the south, uplifted by exposed roots, opened a gaping
cavern.
Now the storm moved on, thundered down the slope trailing its retinue
of tattered debris and driving rain. A last vengeful gust whipped
branches in a final frenzy; then the victor was gone.
And on the devastated promontory, the stupendous mass of the ancient
tree leaned with the resistless inertia of colliding moons to the
accompaniment of a cannonade of parting sinews, falling with dream-like
grace.
And in the heart-brain of the tree, consciousness faded in the
unendurable pain of destruction.

Pantelle climbed down from the open port, leaned against the ship to
catch his breath. He was feeling weaker than he expected. Tough luck,
being on short rations; this would set him back on getting started on
his weight-lifting program. And he didn't feel ready to take on Malpry
yet. But just as soon as he had some fresh food and fresh air-
"These are safe to eat," Gault called, wiping the analyzer needle on
his pants leg and thrusting it back into his hip pocket. He tossed two
large red fruits to Pantelle.
"When you get through eating, Pantelle, you better get some water and
swab down the inside. Malpry and I'll take a look around."
The two moved off. Pantelle sat on the springy grass, and bit into the
apple-sized sphere. The texture, he thought, was reminiscent of
avocado. The skin was tough and aromatic; possibly a natural cellulose
acetate. There seemed to be no seeds. That being the case, the thing
was not properly a fruit at all. It would be interesting to study the
flora of this planet. As soon as he reached home, he would have to
enroll in a course in E.T. botany. Possibly he would go to Heidelberg
or Uppsala, attend live lectures by eminent scholars. He would have a
cosy little apartment--two rooms would do--in the old part of town, and
in the evening he would have friends in for discussions over a bottle
of wine-
However, this wasn't getting the job done. There was a glint of water
across the slope. Pantelle finished his meal, gathered his buckets, and
set out.