"(novel) (ebook) - Perry Rhodan - Atlan 03 - Pale Country Pursuit" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Rhodan)

"There are only two alternatives: either we cross this thing or we find a way around it."
"Need I say more?"
So there we stood in the desolate land and cogitated. The fate of four separate beings depended on our solution to the problem. When our eyes met we both knew we were in a high state of tension. Perhaps Farnathia and Ice Claw didn't comprehend the magnitude of the situation, which was just as well. As for Fratulon and myself, the danger grew with every passing minute. We could already fancy seeing the Kralasenes as they raced onward, picking up our trail.
Finally Fratulon gave me one of his challenging grins. "Do we dare?" he asked cryptically. "You know-the danger route but the shortest one as usual?"
I looked again at the earth-gap before us. "I can give it a try. But whether or not our old cooker will make it is something else again!"
We stared at one another like two conspirators. "That 'cooker' has taken us this far," suggested Fratulon with a new spurt of optimism. "One more exertion isn't going to kill it."
Thinking of one last alternative I asked him: "How far is it to the Valley of Steam?"
He grinned. "Five days, Atlan-unless you are walking. Then, as you say, that's something else again!"
I was on the horns of a dilemma, torn between wisdom and scepticism on one side and foolhardy gallantry on the other. Suddenly I told him: "If you take the wheel, Sawbones-old friend and teacher-then maybe we'll do it!"
He merely nodded. "It's a deal."
We went back to the snowmobile and took a few minutes' break. We fortified ourselves with hot tea and steaming alcohol. Then Sawbones opened the valves and moved us forward. A three-dimensional nightmare began.
At first we went straight ahead. Then the pointed prow of the vehicle sank downward. The heavy treads of the fires and the steel hooks of the tractor chains still gripped the snow and ice and the unseen ground beneath. Then our ungainly craft canted at a perilously steep angle and rattled its way down the cliff-like slope.
"There are some things even I can't see through," commented Fratulon as he jabbed the various controls.
"Meaning this slope, no doubt, and this canyon or deathtrap, whichever it is!"
"You might put it that way."
Entranced by the insane situation, we became silent. The car seemed to hang downward at an utterly crazy angle as it crept down into the fissure. Then, while all of us grabbed onto any protrusion we could find and while the motors and bearings sang and howled their terrifying cacophony of complaint, the snout of our beast began to straighten out once more. We were out on a thick layer of snow and ice but what abyss might lie beneath us we did not know. Nobody said a word or even moved. Slowly, inch by inch, the prow gradually levelled.
"I think we're going to do it again!" muttered Fratulon and though he held down our speed he still gave more power to the 6 motors in the hubs of the giant wheels.
Somehow we were across the danger gap before we realized it because soon we were lifting our prow again and were progressing up the other wall in a process of scrabbling upward and slipping back. Each of us probably had separate impressions. I began to believe that we might be traversing a canyon that in ancient times may have carried water to some marshy wilderness area.
The wheels lost their grip and slipped again. With a scraping and banging sound the tractor hooks gripped in and shoved us up the opposite slope. All of us there inside that cabin had a sensation of being intoxicated or out of our senses. Through the front windshield all we could see was a gyrating combination of snow and beckoning pale grey sky.
"I think we're doing it!" yelled Fratulon.
The burner chamber puffed and sparked as though possessed. The steam pressure from the boiler pushed the turbine into a pitched howl. The wheels and chains scrabbled and chewed away at the uncertain ground. As though in a slow-motion fantasy the steamobile reared up and then slammed down at last on the horizontal plain.
"We made it!" exclaimed Fratulon.
"With all the sweat this cost us," put in Ice Claw, "we could have melted our way half the distance to Warm Spot. Meanwhile we have to find a camp for the night, Fratulon."
Sawbones gradually increased the car's speed and to grin at the Chretkor. "I'm for keeping on even speed now-slower but surer. The more miles we can squeeze out of this crate the better it is for us."
But the speed crept up, nevertheless. This day we had left some very obvious tracks behind us which could hardly be missed. There was neither the threat of a storm nor even a snowfall, so the Kralasenes would be able to pursue us through the weird area of the bare trees and strange rock formations. If it came to a showdown, Fratulon and I could defend ourselves. In fact we could probably handle a superior force if we had to. But if Blind Sofgart's cut-throats caught up to us it would not only come to that-undoubtedly Farnathia and Ice Claw would die at their hands in spite of what we could do.
The snowmobile's speed was now up to its old rate. We held steadily to the North and would reach the Valley of Steam and Adjover on our way. But when and after what unexpected events along the route? None of us knew. Did Fratulon truly believe he could reach his secret stronghold ahead of those hired murderers?
I turned to him. "My good friend and mentor..."
I said it loud enough for Farnathia and Ice Claw to hear me.
"I'm listening," he answered.
"Where and how will we spend the night?"
"Somewhere. I don't know yet. Still a few hours yet till nightfall."
"Right. But there are 3 persons here in the cab who have never crossed the Pale Land."
Fratulon laughed gruffly. "In this area there aren't many hiding places. Fortunately, the same thing goes for the snow ghosts."
Once again I seemed to be remembering something vaguely similar to this. I was in a vehicle of some kind that glided forward as though on soundless wings-quite in contrast to this rattling smoke trap of ours. I flew over the ground as though cushioned on a force-field. A mellow sun shone down on the level of landscape. In the distance rose the outlines of great cone-shaped buildings and I recalled I was steering toward one of these man-made mountains.
"But I think I've made such a journey as this before..." I began.
Fratulon shot me a worried look. "Atlan, are you daydreaming again?" he asked sternly.
"I don't know-I seem to remember..." As I murmured these words the alien buildings appeared to fade out of my mind.
"That's explainable," he chuckled and he slapped his metal cuirass so heavily that it gave off a dull booming sound. "Memories of fantasy! The immature dreams of an adolescent!"
We were way out again in a desolate expanse of wilderness which was so typical of the Pale Land. Nearby a vague giant shadow seemed to keep pace with us, racing over the snow. It was our own shadow as the. last rays of the sun fell horizontally through our windows. The strangely penetrating golden light seemed to be casting everything under a spell of enchantment.
Fratulon, doctor and warrior, looked like the patriarch hero of some ancient Arkon legend.
"We'll be spending the night right out here in the middle of nowhere," I said in a slight tone of complaint. "Like sitting ducks on the open snow of the tundra."
Fratulon laughed, shaking his head to correct me. "Wrong! Tonight we're going to push on farther. Using the headlights."
"I don't think I'm going to like that!" commented Ice Claw from the rear. He was helping Farnathia to prepare our supper.
"You'll like it a lot less," retorted Fratulon, "if the Kralasenes slice that transparent head of yours from your body! Atlan and I will spell each other off every 2 hours. We've got to increase our headstart on the enemy.
The snow car kept rattling northward. All of us, even including Fratulon, began to be concerned about the night to come. But until we got to the base there would be many more nights like this and a lot more reasons for being concerned.

* * * *

Six days
Six days including three nights of forced travel. The only thing wonderful about it was that our vehicle hadn't simply collapsed under us. The complaining noises of the worn and battered machinery continued to increase as we progressed. Finally one of the motors gave out. We drove onward with only 5 of our 6 wheels under power.