"Engines Of Light - 02 - Dark Light" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacLeod Ken)

out from under it and let it sag to the grass behind him. His breath came in
deep sighing gusts; he could not control it. His legs shook; he could control
them, and he walked stiffly away from the glider toward the sheds at the top of
the field. Later he would ache. For now, he just felt an immense surge of
exhilaration carrying him along.
Slow Leg, the pilot for whom Stone had been testing the new craft, waited for
him under the eaves of the glider shed. In his twenties, a few years older than
Stone, lounging elaborately against a log pillar, Slow Leg was clad in nothing
but a short pleated skirt and a pose that showed off his chest, arm, and leg
muscles to advantage.
His calm cracked to a wide grin as Stone approached.
УThat was magnificent,Ф he said. УThatТs a well-tested wing.Ф
Stone grinned back, in unabashed gratitude for the laconic praise.
УIt is yours,Ф he said, controlling his breath as best he could. He took off his
goggles and wiped sweat from his forehead, then removed the feather helmet.
Slow Leg nodded and walked past him and picked up the glider and carried it
reverently to the shed, where he lifted it into an overhead rack and returned to
the post and the pose.
УThank you.Ф
Stone dipped his head, then, formalities over, looked up and asked the question
at the forefront of his mind: УWhat was that thing?Ф
УA ship.Ф
Stone laughed. УThat was never a ship. Unless the sea people have taken to
crossing space in rafts.Ф
УIt did look like something lashed together from a bedstead and barrels,Ф Slow
Leg admitted, Уbut I donТt think the sea people made it.Ф
He had the look of someone waiting to tell a joke.
УThe sea people donТt make their ships,Ф Stone said, teasing him with precision.
УAll right,Ф Slow Leg said. УIt was not made by the snake people for the sea
people, like every other ship we have seen.Ф
Stone stepped behind the straw-mat screen where heТd left his clothes and began
unpicking the fastenings of his down-quilted jacket and trousers. Most pilots
flew in nothing but a breechclout, but modesty and frailty were allowed for in
test flying. Only men had to be tough enough to bare their skin to the
high-altitude winds.
УSo how do you know that, Slow Leg? Did the gods make it, and tell you in a
dream?Ф
УI saw it with . . . my own vision!Ф
Slow Leg guffawed at his own joke; Stone laughed politely. He untied his long
fair hair and shook it out, ducked into his knee-length blue silk tunic and
stepped into the matching trousers, strapped on the sloping compressed-bark
wedges of his sandals, and emerged from behind the screen. When he met Slow
LegТs eyes again he noticed, as he had so often in the past, the subtle, swift
shutteringЧsomething as quick and involuntary as the nictitating membrane
flicking across the eyes of one of the snake peopleЧthat signaled the sudden
shift in the basis of their conversation. Slow LegТs literal stance shifted: He
stopped leaning against the log and took a step back, and hooked his thumbs in
his belt.
УVision,Ф he said, tapping beside his eye. УThere was a name written on the side
of the ship, and I read it.Ф