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

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"A little--once."

13

GALACTIC DERELICT

GALACTIC DERELICT

"By whom?"
Travis pushed back his hat. "Me." His answer was short, antagonistic.
"Oh?" Ashe produced a package of cigarettes, offered them. Travis took one without thinking.
"You came here for a dig?" he counter-questioned.
"In a manner of speaking." But when Ashe glanced at the cliff house, Travis thought it was as if he
saw something far more interesting behind or beyond those crumbling blocks of sun-dried brick.
"I thought your main interest was pre-Mayan, Dr. Ashe." Travis squatted on his heels, brought out a
smoldering twig from the fire to light his smoke, and was inwardly satisfied to note that he had at last
startled the archaeologist with that observation.
"You know me!" He made a challenge of the words.
Travis shook his head. "I know Doctor Prentiss Morgan."
"So that's it! You're one of his bright boys!"
"No." That was short, a bitten-off warning not to probe. And the other man must have been sensitive
enough to under-stand at once, for he asked no other question.
"Chow ready, Ashe?" asked the man with the com. Behind him the youngster Ashe had called "Ross"
came to the fire, reached out for the frying pan. Travis stared at his hand. The flesh was seamed with
scars and once before the Apache had seen healed wounds like those-- from a deep and painful burn.
He looked away hurriedly as the other apportioned food onto plates, and he got his own lunch from his
saddle-bags.
They ate in silence, an oddly companionable silence. The tension of the first minutes of their meeting
eased from the range rider. His interest in these men, his desire to know more about them and what
they were doing here, dampened his annoyance at the way he had been captured. That young Ross was
a slick tracker. He must have had experience at

such games to trap Travis so neatly. The Apache longed for a closer look at the other's weapon. He was
certain it was not a conventional revolver. And die very fact that Ross wore it ready for use argued that
he was on guard against expected attack.
There was a difference between Ashe and Ross, and the man operating the com, which became plainer
the longer Travis studied the three covertly. Ashe and Ross might be of a different breed from the third
man. Their alikeness went deeper than just their heavy tans, their silent walk, their watchfulness and
complete awareness of their surroundings. The more Travis watched them absorbed as they were in the
very natural business of eating and then policing camp, the more sure he was that they had not come to
this place to ex-plore cliff ruins, that they were engaged in some more serious and perhaps deadly
action.
He asked no questions, content to let the others now make the first move. It was the com unit which
broke the peace of the small camp. A warning cackle brought its tender on the run. He snapped on
earphones and then relayed a message.
"Procedure has to be stepped up. They'll start bringing the stuff in tonight!"