"Tom Purdom - The Tree Lord of Imeten" - читать интересную книгу автора (Purdom Tom)

Something moved beside the nearest building.
He ducked and threw himself flat. His right arm reached behind his
shoulder for an arrow. He wiggled forward and peered under the curve of
the rear tread.
Someone was walking toward the shed. He would wait until they got as
close as Joe had been.
He blinked the sweat out of his eyes. Under his loose white shirt and
loose white pants his body felt oily and dirty. Normally at this time of day he
would have stripped to his shorts and given himself a sponge bath.
He pulled his head in when the fuzzy human figure was half the distance
between the buildings and Joe's body. While he was watching it, the others
could be approaching him across the ground he couldn't see from this end
of the tractor. He crawled back to the other end and looked out.
Sunlight flashed on red hair. His eyes finally detected the slight lurch to
the left every time the approaching figure made a step.
His heart jumped. Joanne! The face was still a blur, but no one else in
the settlement had red hair and walked like that.
His eyes searched the buildings for a flash of sunlight on gun metal.
They might be using her for a decoy. She could even have decided she
should help them kill him. In this universe anything was possible.
She stopped well beyond Joe's body. He could imagine the expression
on her face. She and Joe had been friends since they were children on the
starship.
She cupped her hands over her mouth. "Harold! I want to talk to you.
Please let me talk to you."
He pulled his head in. "Don't come any closer!"
"I've been talking to Emile. He's willing to let you leave the settlement. He
says he'll give you food and equipment."
He crawled to the other end of the tractor and looked out. The urge to kill
her flashed through his mind. He wasn't interested in living. Anger was the
only emotion left in his body.
"Go away!"
"Emile doesn't want to kill you. Please listen to me. He knows more
people will die if they try to attack you."
He crawled back to the front end of the tractor. Holding out her hands,
she stepped forward.
She stopped. "Don't you trust me?"
"Go back!"
She limped toward him. "I won't let you die. Listen to reason."
His hand tightened on his bow. He squinted at the buildings. They could
have a dozen rifles trained on him. He lived his life in a fog.
She stepped past the body. The bulk of the tractor hid her from his eyes.
He rose to a crouch and jumped backward into the shadows. The
bowstring slid smoothly into the notch of an arrow.
 She limped around the tractor. Her eyes widened. "Harold!"
They stared at each other. The bow was at the level of his chest. The
arrow was half drawn.
Her eyes searched his face. She shook her head slowly. "What have
they done to you?"
He shifted the arrow so it pointed at the ground. The bulging,