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

Phenomenal visual acuity was normal among pilots; literacy was not. Slow Leg had
some justification for the lazy self-satisfaction in his tone.
Stone let his eyes widen. УWhat was it?Ф His voice had taken, quite without
artifice, a slightly higher pitch and lighter note.
Slow Leg sucked in his lips and gave a small shrug. УThere were several words,
or names,Ф he said, Уsome of which had been painted over, but there were two
words that were quite clear, in the Christian language and lettering . . . Ф
He paused again, playing a smile.
Stone spread his hands. УPlease.Ф
УBright Star.Ф
Stone mentally translated from the Christian.
УBright Star?Ф He felt the pitch of his voice rise out of control, to an
undignified squeak.
УThat was what it said.Ф Slow Leg shrugged. УWhether it was indeed that ship, I
donТt know.Ф
He turned and gazed down the valley, as if he could still see it. УBut it looked
as one would expect that ship to look, and as for its piloting . . . Ф He
chuckled.
УIf that was flown by one of the sea people, they are in a bad way indeed. No, I
think that was flown by aЧyou know the Christian word, a human.Ф
УOr by one of the snake people?Ф Stone suggested. УA very experienced skiff
pilot?Ф
Slow Leg passed a hand over his eyes. УOr a very inexperienced one!Ф
Stone smiled slyly. УIt takes a very experienced pilot to dive down to ground
level and then pull out . . . .Ф
Slow Leg shook his head in self-reproof, slapped StoneТs shoulder, then let his
arm drop awkwardly.
УOf course, of course,Ф he said. УI forget myself. I must pour you a drink,
Stone.Ф
They walked along the front of the glider shed, mostly empty at this time of
day, Slow Leg padding barefoot on the grass, with the almost imperceptible drag
on the left foot that had inflicted his name, Stone stepping carefully in the
short-paced gait imposed by the built up heels of his sandals. Against the far
end of the shed was an unattended table with a skin flask of beer propped in a
wicker frame and a few pottery cups. Slow Leg ignored the beer, ducked under the
table, and fished out a glass bottle of corn-mash spirit.
УAh,Ф said Stone. A smuggler.
Slow Leg smiled and winked as he filled two cups with the rough liquor, then hid
the bottle again. He leaned an elbow on the table and raised his cup, then
noticed Stone wasnТt leaning on the grubby, sticky table.
He waved for a pause and hurried to drag up a stool.
УThank you,Ф said Stone, taking the seat.
Slow Leg resumed the toast. УHigh flights!Ф
УSafe landings,Ф Stone said, heartfelt. The reaction was already getting to him,
his body belatedly assimilating the reality of his narrow escape and beginning
to tremble. He gulped, steadying himself, blinked as his eyes stung.
УWooh!Ф
УGood stuff,Ф said Slow Leg. He licked it off his lips, looked away, took
another sip. He seemed to remember something.
УIf that ship really was the Bright Star,Ф he said slowly, Уthen many things