"Alastair Reynolds - Minla's Flowers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

тАЬTheyтАЩre being shot at. ThatтАЩs good enough for me.тАЭ

тАЬI really think we should land. IтАЩm down to vapor pressure in the tanks now.тАЭ

тАЬSoтАЩs that brave fool of a pilot. Just do it.тАЭ

The aircraftтАЩs engine gave out just as Tyrant reached position. Taking the
controls manually, Merlin brought his shipтАЩs nose into contact with the un-derside of
the aircraftтАЩs paper-thin fuselage. Contact occurred with the faintest of bumps. The
pilot glanced back down over his shoulder, but the goggled mask hid all expression.
Merlin could only imagine what the pilot made of the sleek, whale-sized machine now
supporting his little contraption.

MerlinтАЩs hands trembled. He was acutely aware of how easily he could
damage the fragile thing with a miscalculated application of thrust. Tyrant was
armored to withstand Waynet transitions and the crush of gas giant atmospheres. It
was like using a hammer to push around a feather. For a moment, contact between
the two craft was lost, and when Tyrant came in again it hit the aircraft hard enough
to crush the metal cylinder of a spare fuel tank bracketed on under the wing. Merlin
winced in anticipation of an explosionтАФone that would hurt the little airplane a lot
more than it hurt TyrantтАФbut the tank must have been empty.

Ahead, the airship had regained some measure of stability. The capture net
was still deployed. Merlin pushed harder, giving the aircraft more alti-tude in
readiness for its approach glide. At the last moment he judged it safe to disengage.
He steered Tyrant away and left the aircraft to blunder into the net.

This time there were no gusts. The net wrapped itself around the aircraft, the
soft impact nudging down the nose of the airship. Then the net began to be winched
back toward the gondola like a haul of fish. At the same time the airship swung
around and began to climb.

тАЬNo other planes?тАЭ Merlin asked.

тАЬThat was the only one.тАЭ

They followed the airship in. It rose over the cliff, over the ice-capped rim of
the aerial landmass, then settled down toward the shielded region in the bowl, where
water and greenery had gathered. There was even a wispy layer of cloud, arranged in
a broken ring around the shore of the lake. Merlin presumed that the concave shape
of the landmass was sufficient to trap a stable microclimate.

By now Merlin had an audience. People had gathered on the gondolaтАЩs rear
observation platform. They wore goggles and gloves and heavy brown overcoats.
Merlin caught the shine of glass lenses being pointed at him. He was being studied,
sketched, perhaps even photographed.

тАЬDo you think they look grateful?тАЭ he asked. тАЬOr pissed off?тАЭ

Tyrant declined to answer.