"Arkady and Boris Strugatsky_Destination Amaltheia" - читать интересную книгу автора (Strugatski Arkady)

"Why didn't you leave her behind then?" Dauge said viciously. His right
eye was swelling visibly; he fingered it, muttering something in Lettish. He
was no longer squatting, but half-lying on the floor, his legs spread for
better balance.
Zhilin stood upright, gripping with each hand the breech and the
bomb-rack for support. Suddenly the floor fell from under his feet, then
rushed up, hitting his heels painfully. Dauge groaned. Zhilin's legs
buckled. Bykov's hoarse bass roared on the intercom:
"Engineer Zhilin to control room! Passengers take shelter in the
acceleration absorbers!"
Zhilin raced, rolling, to the door. Behind his back Dauge said:
"Why in the absorbers?"
"Nothing doing," said Yurkovsky. Something metallic rattled across the
floor. Zhilin dashed into the gangway. There was adventure coming.
The ship was being tossed about like flotsam on choppy seas. Zhilin ran
along the gangway in a forced zigzag, thinking; That one's past, and that,
and that too, they'll all go past.... Then there was a sharp hissing behind
him, incredibly loud. He backed against the wall and spun round. In the
empty gangway ten paces away there was a dense cloud of white vapour exactly
like that which is observed when a bottle of liquid helium bursts open. The
hissing soon stopped. The air was icy-cold. "Hit us, the bastard," Zhilin
said and tore himself from the wall. The white cloud crept after him, slowly
settling.
It was very cold in the control room, and Zhilin saw rainbow-coloured
hoarfrost on the walls and the floor. Mikhail Antonovich, his neck purple,
sat at the computer, reading a tape. Bykov was not in sight.
"Another hit?" the navigator called in a thin voice.
"Where the dickens is that engineer?" Bykov boomed from behind the
casing.
"Here," said Zhilin.
 He ran across the control room, which was slippery with hoarfrost.
Bykov popped out to meet him, his red hair standing on end.
"To the reflector control," he said.
"Aye, aye," said Zhilin. "Navigator, any gaps?"
"No. Same density all round. Bad luck...." "Cut off the reflector. I'll
try to get through on the emergency engines."
Mikhail Antonovich swivelled hurriedly in his chair to the control
panel behind him. He put his hand on the keyboard and said:
"Perhaps we could-"
He did not finish. Terror distorted his face. The panel with the
keyboard bent, then straightened again and slid noiselessly to the floor.
Zhilin heard him scream and ran in confusion from behind the casing. On the
wall, clutching .at the soft panelling, sat Varya, Yurkovsky's pet, a
five-foot-long Martian lizard. The exact replica of the control panel was
already fading off her body, but on her horrible triangular muzzle, a red
hold lamp was still flickering, on and off. Mikhail Antonovich stared at the
patterned monster, sobbing and holding his hand to his heart.
"Shoo!" Zhilin yelled; Varya darted aside and disappeared.
"I'll kill her," Bykov growled. "Zhilin, to your station, damn it."
Just as Zhilin was turning the Tahmasib was hit real hard.