"Norton, Andre - Galactic Derelict" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

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conviction that to use any evasive tactics with this particular White-eye would not lead to anything
but his own disadvantage.
"Rider for the Double A."
The man by the com unit had unrolled a map. Now he ran a forefinger along an uneven marking and
nodded, not at Travis, but to the interrogator.
"Nearest range to the east. But he can't be hunting strays this far into the desert."
"Good water." The other nodded at the pool. "The Old Ones used it."
Obliquely that was another inquiry. And somehow Travis found himself replying to it.
"The Old Ones knew. Not those only." With his chin he pointed to the ruins in the great shallow cave.
"But the People in turn. Never dry, even in bad years."
"And this is a bad year." The stranger rubbed his hand along his jaw, his blue eyes still holding
Travis'. "A complica-tion we didn't forsee. So Double A runs a herd in here in dry years, son?"
Again Travis found himself, against his will replying with the exact truth. "Not yet. Few of the riders
know of it now. Not many care to listen to the stories of the old men." He was still puzzling over the
teasing memory of seeing this man's lean face before. That black border about it--a frame! A picture
frame! And the picture had hung over Dr. Morgan's desk at the university.
"But you do. . . ." There came another of those measuring stares like the one which had stripped the
rancher's clothing
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GALACTIC DERELICT

from him to display the Apache underneath. Now those eyes might be trying to sort out the thoughts in
his head. Dr. Mor-gan's study--this man's picture--but with a stepped pyramid behind him.
"It is so." Absently he used another speech pattern as he tried to remember more.
"The problem is, buster"--the man by the com unit stood up, spoke lazily-- "just what are we going to
do with you now? How about it, Ashe? Does he go in cold storage--maybe up there?" He jerked a
thumb at the ruins.
Ashel Dr. Gordon Ashe! He'd put a name to the stranger at last. And with the name he had a reason for
the man's presence there. Ashe was an archaeologist. Only Travis did not have to look at the com unit
or at the camp to guess that this was no expedition to hunt relics of ancient man. He had had firsthand
knowledge of those. What were Dr. Ashe and his companions doing in the Canyon of the Dead?
"You can put down your hands, son," Dr. Ashe said. "And you can make it easy for yourself if you
agree to stay here peaceably for a time."
"For how long?" countered Travis.
"That depends," Ashe hedged.
"I left my horse up there. He needs water."
"Bring the horse down, Ross."
Travis turned his head. The young man bolstered his odd-looking weapon and climbed upslope, to
reappear shortly leading the pinto. Travis freed his mount of saddle and turned the animal loose. He
came back to the camp site to find Ashe awaiting him.
"So not many people know of this place?"
Travis shrugged. "One other man on the Double A--he is very old. His father was born here, long ago
when the Apaches were fighting the army. Nobody else is interested any more."
"Then there was never any digging done in the ruins?"