"Andre Norton - The X Factor 2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

given up the search for him in the garden. He must use well what time he had.
Somehow he scrambled over the lacework of the wall, meant more as a frame for
the garden than any barrier. One sleeve tore loose from the shoulder, and now
he had a smarting scratch, oozing blood, above his elbow. His dress boots made
no sound on the pavement. Their soft soles were thin enough to let him feel
the stone. But that did not matter-he had gone barefoot so long that his feet
were tougher perhaps than the fabric of the boots themselves. This wayтАФto the
corner, then to the first side turningтАФ and that led straight to the port. He
would enter quite far from the small ships he wanted, but once he was actually
at the field, he could manage. This sudden small self-confidence was heady.
Just as in the old tales, you obtained a talisman of sorts and then you were
invincible. He had his talisman in the belt pocket, beneath his hand, and now
there bubbled inside of him the belief that the rest would follow, that he
would find the ship and escape-Such a spacer would be on two controls, one for
manual and one for travel tape. Diskan scowled as he tried to remember small
details. All ships took off by pattern, and he dared not ask the Control for a
particular one. So, he would have to risk the other wayтАФfeed in his tape, set
on auto-control, go into freeze himselfтАФand just hope. And the steps for
thatтАФ? Well, Renfry, striving hard to find a common interest between them back
on Nyborg while they had been waiting for exit papers, had talked about
himself and his work when he discovered Diskan uncommunicative. And Diskan had
listened, well enough now, he hoped, to get him off Vaanchard. The field was
lighted in one section. A liner must have just set down within the hour, as
there was activity about one sky-pointing ship. Diskan watched closely and
then moved forward, walking with a sureness of purpose. He paused by a pile of
shipping cartons and hoisted one to his shoulder, then set out briskly on a
course that angled toward his goal. To the casual glance, he hoped, he would
be a laborerтАФone of those selected for the handling of cargo for which
machines could not be trusted. He dared not stumbleтАФhe must keep his mind on
those slim small ships in their cradles ahead. He must think of his arms, of
his feet, of his unruly body, and of what he was going to do when he got
inside a space lock. He would mount to the control cabin, strap in, feed the
tape disk to the directive, then set the freeze needle, take the perlim
tabletsтАФ Diskan was under the shadow of a trader before he thought it safe to
dump his burden and quicken his pace to a trot. The first two of the smaller
ships were still too large for his purpose, but the third, a racer made more
for use within this solar system, between Vaanchard and her two inhabitable
neighbors, was betterтАФthough he did not know if it could be used to voyage in
deep space. However, such a ship could be set for maximum take-off, to wrench
him out of the influence of the control tower. And speed was an important
factor. For such a ship there would be a watch robot. Theft was not a native
vice on Vaanchard, but all ports had a floating population of which a certain
portion was untrustworthy. No racer was ever left without a watch robot. But
Diskan had some useful information from Nyborg, learned by watching his
companions at the labor depot. Robots were the enemies of the strong-back
boys. When rations were scanty or poor, the human laborers had learned ways to
circumvent the mechanical watchdogs at warehousesтАФthough it was a tricky
business. Diskan glanced at his big, calloused hands. He had never tried to
dis-con a watcher before. That was a task he had believed he was too clumsy to
handle, but tonight he was going to have to do it! He studied the ship in the