"Murray Leinster - Space Platform" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leinster Murray)

hundred pounds pressure. It drenched the burning wreck with fog in which a man would drown. No fire could
possibly burn in such a water aerosol. In seconds, it seemed, there was only steam and white vapor and fumes
of smouldering substances that gradually diminshed.
There was a roaring of motorcycles as they raced across the field with a black car trailing them. The car pulled
up beside the crashwagon, and stopped, and came swiftly to where Joe was emerging from wild anger to sink
into sick, black despair. What had happened wasn't his fault, but he had been responsible for the pilot gyros and
their safe arrival. And it was not his job merely to remain blameless. It was his job to get the gyros delivered
and set up in the Space Platform.
He hadn't done it.
The black car braked and stopped. There was Major Holt. Joe had seen him six months before. He'd aged a
good deal. He looked grimly at the two pilots.
"You dumped your gasoline. What's burning now?"
Joe said thickly, "Everything was dumped but the pilot gyros. They didn't burn! They were crated at the plant!"
The co-pilot suddenly made an incoherent sound of rage.
"I've got it!" he said hoarsely. "I knowтАФ"
"What?" snapped Major Holt.
"They planted the grenade at the major overhaul," panted the co-pilot, too enraged even to swear. "But besides
thatтАФbesides thatтАФ. I pulled the fire-extinguisher releases just as we hit! For all compartments! To flood
everything with CO2! But it wasn't CO2! That's what burned!"
Major Holt turned his head. Somebody materialized beside him. He said harshly;
"Get the fire extinguisher bottles sealed and take them to the laboratory."
"Yes, sir!"
A man went running toward the wreck. Major Holt said coldly, "That's a new one. We should have thought of
it. You men get yourselves attended to and report to Security at the Shed."
The pilot and co-pilot turned away. Joe had started to go with them, when he heard Sally's voice.
"Joe! Come with us, please!"
Joe hadn't seen her, but she was in the car. She was pale. Her eyes were wide and frightened.
"I'll be all right." Joe said stiffly. "I want to look at those crates."
Major Holt spoke curtly, "They're under guard. They'll have to be photographed and such before anything's
touched. And I want a report from you anyhow. Come along!"
Joe looked. The motorcycles were abandoned and there were already armed guards around the still-smoking
wreck, watching the men of the fogwagon as they hunted
for remaining sparks or flame. It was noticerble that nobody else moved toward the scene of disaster.
There were figures moving back toward the edge of the field. They'd started out to be near the excitement.
But the guards were on the job. Nobody could approach. The onlookers went back to their proper places.
"Please, Joe!" said Sally shakily.
Joe got drearily into the car. The instant he seated himself, the vehicle was in motion again. It went swiftly
across the field and out the entrance, its horn blaring as it went streaking toward the town and abruptly
turned to the left. In seconds it was on a broad white highway that left the town behind and led toward
more empty desert.
But not quite empty. Far, far away there was a great halfglobe rising against the horizon. The car hummed
toward it, its tires singing. And Joe looked at it and felt ashamed, because this was where the Space
Platform waited for pilot gyrosтАФamong other thingsтАФand he hadn't brought them.
Sally moistened her lips. She brought out a small box and opened it. There were bandages and small
bottles. "I've a first-aid kid, Joe," she said unsteadily. "You're burned! Let me do something for the worst
ones, anyhow!"
Joe looked at himself. One coat sleeve was burned to charcoal. His hair was singed on one side. A trouser
leg was burned off around the ankle. When he noticed, his burns hurt.
Major Holt watched her spread a salve on scorched skin. He showed no emotion whatever.
"Tell me what happened," he commanded. "All of it."