"Bud Sparhawk - Primrose and Thorn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sparhawk Bud)

Then she noticed the blinking warning light above the heater switch. "Damn," she swore, "how did I miss
that?" and turned it off.

Pascal stuck his head out of the end of the tube. "Sail's all ready to go."

"Right, brace yourself," she responded and hit the winches to raise the sail.

Before she could react the ship moved violently to one side, throwing her from the seat and smashing her
against the bulkhead. She didn't even have time to scream.



Pascal came painfully to full consciousness. His head throbbed and his side was a mass of agony, as if his
ribs had been crushed. The first thing that he saw was Louella slumped against the bulkhead of the
cockpit, her arm at an awkward angle. "She must have forgotten to buckle herself in," he mumbled and
crawled to her. The pain in his side stabbed each time he moved.

Louella's pulse was all right, but her breathing was labored. He turned her to one side to relieve the
front-to-back pressure from the two-g gravity. She moaned as he shifted her.

He ran his hand down her arm, feeling for a break, a dislocated joint. The arm was all right, but there was
a swelling at her wrist indicating a possible sprain or fracture. Since there was nothing more serious
apparent, he climbed into the seat and buckled himself in. He could take care of Louella's medical
problems later, after he found out what Thorn's situation was. The boat always came first!

A quick glance at the instruments showed that there was no pressure differential on the sails. The wind
speed indicator read a fat zero, which meant that Thorn must be moving at the same speed as the wind.
He noted that the ballast was zip. In an obvious contradiction, the pressure gauge showed them to still be
on the boundary layer. Nevertheless Thorn was bobbing uncomfortably, as if she had lost some trim.

He clicked on the pumps that would bring more ballast up through the pipes. Once the boat had the
proper trim he could turn her back into the wind. As he was waiting for that, he looked at the inertial.
According to the readout they had lost most of their progress for the last day, at least. They were being
blown back toward CS-15, but on a southward angle.

Since it would be a while until the pumps did their work he got the first-aid kit out of storage and put a
splint on Louella's arm. He prepared a dose of painkiller for when she awoke. He'd only give it if she
asked for it. Carefully he turned her head and waved a broken ampule under her nose.

"Wha . . . where . . . humph," she said and tried to sit up. "Wha .... what happened?" she asked.

"Don't know. Was coming back down the tube when all hell broke loose. Threw me against the side and
knocked me out. We're way off course now."

"Oh, your head," she said and reached out with her good hand to touch his forehead. "You're bleeding!"

He brushed her hand away. "Just a bump, I thinkтАФrotten headache, though. How do you feel? Do you
need this?" he held up the dose he'd prepared.