"George R. R. Martin - With Morning Comes Mistfall (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

some sort, that's very common, and it drips from the overhanging branches in
cascades of dark green and scarlet. And . there are rocks, and vines, and low
bushes choked with misshapen purplish fruits.
But there's no sun, of course. The mists hide every-' thing. They swirl
and slide around you as you walk, caressing you with unseen hands, clutching
at your feet.
Once in a while, the mists play games with you. Most .' of the time you
walk through a thick fog, unable to see more than a few feet in any
direction,. your own shoes lost in the mist carpet below. Sometimes, though,
the fog closes in suddenly. And then you can't see at all. I blundered into
more than one tree when that happened.
At other times, though, the mists-for no apparent. reason-will roll back
suddenly, and leave you standing alone in a clear pocket within a cloud.
That's when you can see the forest in all its grotesque beauty. It's a brief,
breathtaking glimpse of never-never land. Moments like that are few and
short-lived. But they stay:: with you.
They stay with you.
In those early weeks, I didn't have much time for' walking in the
forests, except when I joined a search-. team to get the feel of it. Mostly I
was busy writing. I
did a series on the history of the planet, highlighted by the stories of the
most famous sightings. I did feature profiles on some of the more colorful
members of the expedition. I did a piece on Sanders, and the problems he
encountered and overcame in building Castle Cloud. I did science pieces on the
little known about the planet's ecology. I did mood pieces about the forests
and the mountains. I did speculative-thought pieces about the ruins. I wrote
about rockcat hunting, and mountain climbing, and the huge and dangerous swamp
lizards native to some offshore islands.
And, of course, I wrote about Dubowski and his search. On that I wrote
reams.
Finally, however, the search began to settle down into dull routine, and
I began to exhaust the myriad other topics Wraithworld offered. My output
began to decline. I started to have time on my hands.
That's when I really began to enjoy Wraithworld. I began to take daily
walks through the forests, ranging wider each day. I visited the ruins, and
flew half a continent away to see the swamp lizards firsthand instead of by
holo. I befriended a group of hunters passing through, and shot myself a
rockcat. I accompanied some other hunters to the western seacoast, and nearly
got myself killed by a plains devil.
And I began to talk to Sanders again.
Through all of this, Sanders had pretty well ignored me and Dubowski and
everyone else connected with the wraith research. He spoke to us grudgingly if
at all, greeted us curtly, and spent all his free time with his other guests.
At first, after the way he had talked in the bar that night, I worried
about what he might do. I had visions of him murdering someone out in the
mists, and trying to make it look like a wraith killing. Or maybe just
sabotaging the wraith traps. But I was sure he would try something to scare
off Dubowski or otherwise undermine the expedition.
Comes of watching too much holovision, I guess.