"Pat Murphy - Inappropriate Behavior" - читать интересную книгу автора (Murphy Pat)

By the time he had finished the milk, the roach was back with another coconut. It pierced the shell before
dropping the nut.

The roach brought him two more coconuts, piercing each one neatly and dropping it beside Evan. It
stood and watched him drink.

"I think my leg is broken," Evan murmured.

The roach said nothing.

He closed his eyes against the glare of the sun. Many years before, as an undergraduate, he had taken a
psychology course on the psychosocial aspects of emergencies and disasters. A guest speaker, a
member of a search-and-rescue team, had talked about how people had managed to stay alive in terrible
situationsтАФand had described the mental attitude that helped those people survive. The
search-and-rescue expert had said that survivors just kept on trying, doing whatever they could. "Step by
step," he had said. "That's the approach to take. Don't try to find the answer to everything at once.
Remember, life by the yard is hard, but by the inch, it's a cinch."

Evan thought about what he could do right away to help increase his chances of survival. "I need to get
out of the sun," he muttered. "I need food, water, medical supplies."

There were so many things he needed to do. He had to find something that he could use to splint his leg.
He had to figure out a way to signal for help. He needed to find water. So many things he had to do.

He fell asleep.




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The Mechano:
It was restful under the ocean. The light that filtered down from above was dim and blue. The world
around me was all shades of blueтАФdark and light. I liked it on the ocean floor.

I had left the man asleep on the sand. But first, I was helpful. I always try hard to be helpful.

He had said he had to get out of the sun. So I had gathered palm fronds from the beach and stuck them
in the sand where they would shade him. He had said he needed food and water and medical supplies.
So I went to his sailboat and found some cans of food and a can opener and bottles of water and a
first-aid kit. I carried all that stuff up from the sunken boat and left it on the beach beside him.

Then I headed for deep water. I had work to do.

I lifted my legs high as I walked, moving slowly to avoid stirring up the loose silt that covered the ocean
bottom. My temperature sensors tested the currentsтАФwarm where they welled up from volcanic cracks
below. My chemical sensors tested the water; it tasted of sulfides, a familiar musty flavor.