"Myst - 02 - The Book Of Ti'ana" - читать интересную книгу автора (Miller Rand)

"We are a patient race, Master Kedri," he said, risking the anger of the other
man. "Patient and thorough. Would you have us abandon the habits of a thousand
generations?"

Kedri made to answer curtly, then saw the look of challenge in Telanis's eyes
and nodded. "No. You are right, Guild Master. Forgive me. Perhaps they chose the
wrong man to represent our guild."

Perhaps, Telanis thought, but aloud he said. "Not at all, Master Kedri. You will
get used to it, I promise. And we shall do our best to keep you busy while you
are here. I shall have my assistant, Aitrus, assigned to you."

And now Kedri smiled, as if this was what he had been angling for all along.
"That is most kind. Master Telanis. Most kind, indeed."

* * *

The excavator was quiet, the lighting subdued. Normally, the idle chatter of
young crewmen would have rilled the narrow corridor, but since the observers had
come there was a strange silence to the craft that made it seem abandoned.

As the young guildsman walked along its length, he glanced about warily.
Normally he took such sights for granted, but today he seemed to see it all
anew. Here in the front section, just behind the great drill, was the Guild
Master's cabin and, next to it, through a bulkhead that would seal automatically
in times of emergency, the chart room. Beyond that, opening out to both right
and left of the corridor, was the equipment room.

The excavator was as self-contained as any ship at sea, everything stored, each
cupboard and drawer secured against sudden jolts, but here the purpose of the
craft was nakedly displayed, the massive rock drills lain neatly in their racks,
blast-marble cylinders, protective helmets, and analysis tubes racked like
weaponry.

The young guildsman stopped, looking back along the length of the craft. He.was
a tall, athletic-looking young man with an air of earnestness about him. His
dark red jumpsuit fit him comfortably rather than tightly; the broad, black
leather tool belt at his waist and his long black leather boots part of the
common uniform worn by all the members of the expedition.

His fine black hair was cut short and neat, accentuating his fineboned features,
while his eyes were pale but keen. Intelligent, observant eyes.

He passed on, through the crew quarters-the empty bunks stacked three to a side
into the curve of the ship's walls, eighteen bunks in all-and, passing through
yet another bulkhead, into the refectory.

Master Jerahl, the ship's cook, looked up from where he was preparing the
evening meal and smiled.