"Niven, Larry - How The Heroes Die" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niven Larry)

on em.

Carter frowned.

Latents. Guys who think they might turn queer themselves if you gave 'em the opportunity. They can't stand queers around because

queers are temptation."

"You're just returning the compliment."

"Maybe."

Anyway, the town has enough problems without-things like

that going on. This whole project could have been wrecked by someone like your brother."

"How bad do we need killers?"

"Pretty badly, this time." Suddenly Carter knew that he was now his own defense attorney. If he could convince Alf that he shouldn't be executed,

he could convince the rest of them. If he couldn't-

then he must destroy the bubble, or die. He went on talking as persuasively as he knew how.

"You see, Alf, the town has two purposes. One is to find out if we can live in an environment as hostile as this one. The other is to contact the Martians. Now there are just fifteen of us in town-"

"Twelve. Thirteen when I get back."

"Fourteen if we both do. Okay. Each of us is more or less necessary to the functioning of the town. But I'm needed in both fields. I'm the ecologist, Alf I not only have to keep the town from dying from some sort of imbalance, I also have to figure out how the Martians live, what they live on, how Martian life forms depend on each other. You see?"

"Sure. How 'bout Lew? Was he necessary?"

"We can get along without him. He was the radio man. At least a couple of us have training enough to take over communications."

"You make me so happy. Doesn't the same go for you?"

Carter thought hard and fast. Yes, Gondot in particular could keep the town's life-support system going with little help. But- "Not with the Martian ecology. There isn't-"

"There isn't any Martian ecology. Jack, has anyone ever found any life on Mars besides that man-shaped mummy? You can't be an ecologist without something to make deductions from. You've got nothing to investigate. So what good are you?"

Carter kept talking. He was still arguing as the sun dropped into the sea of sand and darkness closed down with a snap. But he knew now it was no use. Alf's mind was closed.

By sunset the bubble was taut, and the tortured scream of incoming breathing-air had dropped to a tired sigh. Lieutenant-Major Shute unfastened the clamps at his shoulders and lifted his helmet, ready to jam it down fast if the air was too thin. It wasn't. He set the helmet down and signaled thumbs-up to the men watching him.

Ritual. Those dozen men had known the air would be safe. But rituals had grown fast where men worked in space, and the most rigid was that the man in charge fastened his helmet last and unfastened it first. Now suits were being removed. Men moved about

their duties. Some moved toward the kitchen to clean up the vacuum-induced havoc so Hurley could get dinner.

Shute stopped Lee Cousins as he went by. "Lee, could I see you a minute?"