"Jean and Jeff Sutton - Alien From The Stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sutton Jean and Jeff)

Alien From The Stars -- Jean and Jeff Sutton -- (1970)

(Version 2002.09.13 -- Done)


ONE

A VIOLENT WARNING light flashed furiously.
The strident voice of a horn blared through the audiocoms. Echoing
throughout the lower decks and passageways and cavernous quarters of the big
ship, the horn held the lonely muffled sound of a drum-beat rolling upward
from a deep well -- a sound heavy with doom.
Barlo, the planetary archeologist, reacted swiftly. Empty-handed, he
sprang toward the door of his small cabin. The long corridor, dimly lit during
the sleep cycle, was deserted as he burst from his room.
A secondary buzzer signaled the beginning of transition from Q space --
a warning that the huge Zemm liner faced imminent disaster. The knowledge
speeded his steps. Racing into an intersecting passageway, he hurriedly
entered a launch well, slipped through a hatch into a small scout pod, pressed
a button, and called the ops bridge.
"Pods away, pods away." The crisp response held a controlled tautness.
Barlo didn't ask questions. Swiftly yet calmly he punched a button that sealed
the pod's well from the ship, another that opened a disc door and left the
well exposed to the awful emptiness of space. A lever caused a thick elastic
mesh to enfold his slight body; a switch sent the pod shooting out into the
black firmament. Although he knew the Zemm liner had completed its transition
from Q space, the harsh glitter of stars, seen through the ports, was
reassuring.
He moved another switch. Sledgehammer forces generated by the maximum
acceleration crushed his short, thin body against the elastic meshing. His
long, prehensile fingers grasped another control and turned it; a beam of
electromagnetic energy leaped from the pod, tying it to the huge starliner.
"Pods away, pods away..." A voice tolled sepulchrally from a speaker above
him.
Barlo punched a button, and a screen glowed to life. Its light,
amplified a thousand times, displayed the huge ship as a graceful needle
poised against the fiercely burning stars. The sight filled him with sorrow.
Rapidly diminishing in size, the liner suddenly erupted into a colossal ball
of flame that for a brief moment held the awesome brilliance of a nova. The
illumination of the screen was blinding. The harsh flare almost as quickly
subsided, dwindling into a small, dull ember before winking into nothingness
in the great black sea of space.
With the calm efficiency characteristic of his kind -- a cerebral
activity unhampered by emotions -- Barlo activated the pod detectors and
called into a transmitter, "Scout pod four three seven calling survivors.
Scout pod four three seven..."
He repeated the call several times. Although the detector readouts
covering the sector of the disaster were going wild, he realized they
registered only debris; the silence on the call circuit told him he was alone.
Alone! Of more than thirteen thousand passengers and crew members, he