"Richard A. Lupoff - Sail the Tide of Mourning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lupoff Richard A)

of the stowaway.

"Don't be angry Jiritzu," her voice quivered, "I had to come along."

"Bidjiwara!" he cried.

She launched herself across the cabin, crossing it in an easy, gliding
trajectory. She caught his hand in her two, brought it to her face, pressed
his palm to the maraiin, the graceful scarifications on her cheek.

"Don't be angry with me," she repeated.

He felt himself slump to the deck of the cabin, sitting with his back to
the bulkhead, the hatchway leading to the outer deck overhead, light
pouring in. He shook himself, turned to look into the face of Bidjiwara,
young Bidjiwara, she who was barely entering womanhood, whose voyage
on Djanggawul was her first as a sky hero, her first offplanet, her first
away from Yurakosi.

"Angry? Angry?" Jiritzu repeated stupidly. "No, Bidjiwara, myтАФmy
dear Bidjiwara." He brought his face close to hers, felt as she cupped his
cheeks in the palms of her hands.

He shook his head. "I couldn't be angry with you. But do you
understand? Do you know where this little ship is bound?"

Suddenly he pulled away from her grasp, sprang back to the deck of the
lighter, sighted back in the direction of Djanggawul. Could he see her as a
distant speck? Was that the great membrane shipтАФor a faint, remote
star?

His radio was still on. He stood on the lighter's deck, shouted after
Djanggawul and her crew. "Dual Nurundere! Uraroju!"

There was no answer, only a faint, random crackling in his skull, the
signals of cosmic radio emanations broadcast by colliding clouds of
interstellar gas.

He dropped back through the hatch, into the cabin of the lighter.

He reached for Bidjiwara, took her extended hand, drew her with him
back onto the deck of the lighter.

"You know why I am here," he said, half in question, half assertion.

She nodded, spoke softly a word in confirmation.

Still, he said, "I will die. I am here to die."

She made no answer, stood with her face to his sweater, her hands