"Utley, Steven - The Despoblado" - читать интересную книгу автора (Utley Steven)

"It's mostly evaporite flats between here and Wegener Point. Truly grisly places."

"I'm sure. But there's a great tradition in my family of walking through hostile environments. One of my ancestors walked from Berlin to the south of France to get away from Nazis when he was fifteen."

"Well, then, I must say I am impressed. With you and your ancestor both. But you can't possibly carry enough food to last you till you reached the point."

"I wouldn't have to carry it. I can always find it lying around."

Walton shook his headЧadmiringly, in spite of himself, for though her cocksure attitude grated, he found himself liking her adventurousness and apparent fearlessness. He suppressed his irritation and said, "Nature girl."

"Why don't you let me make dinner tomorrow and see for yourself?" He looked dubious. "I promise not to poison you. I'd like you to try some of my food."

"Exactly what do you eat?" Walton said warily.

"Whatever there is. My Uncle Ivan was one of the first scientists to study Paleozoic life-forms and ecosystems in the Paleozoic. He told me what I'd be able to eat here and what not to eat. Um, Wicket is invited, of course."

Walton shook his head emphatically. "It'd just disturb him." Neither of them spoke for a good part of a minute. Then: "I mean, set something aside for him if you want, and I'll give it to him, butЧeverything considered, he's done quite well these past few days. He's doing the best he can. He can't do any better than he does."

Presently, from the direction of the camp came the sound of a diesel engine cranking up.

Michelle gazed off into the darkness. "Boys with toys," she said.




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At last they left the floodplain astern, and the river changed its character, ceasing its languid meandering, becoming a great broad current coursing with seeming purpose. The landscape changed as well. The undulations of the peneplain had gradually become perceptible as such, next as low mounds of marl studded with broken rock, and then the land abruptly crumpled itself into a succession of barren knolls. The banks rose until it was often impossible to see what lay beyond them. The rocks above the splash zone were spotted with lichens; below it, they glistened with slimy greenery. Karen made another stop at midday to leave a cache of dried foodstuffs and mail. Michelle went ashore to take pictures and, as she told Walton, collect some specimens of her own.
That evening, in the cramped cubicle that served as Karen's formal mess area, Michelle set before Walton a serving of what seemed to be snap beans and brown rice. There was also a small mound of what could have been black beans or caviar. He said, "Is it a good idea to ask what this stuff is before I put it in my mouth?"

"Probably not, if you have irrational food prejudices."

He thought of her collecting sortie. "Then don't tell me afterward, either, okay?" He slipped his fork into the black beans or caviar and put three or four of them into his mouth. They were neither black beans nor caviar, but he allowed after chewing them a couple of times that they tasted pretty good. She beamed at him and dug into her own food.

When they had finished eating, he sat back and told her, "Michelle Kelly, I salute you. In you are met all the best of French and Irish."

"German, too. The name's just the legacy of my ethnically bewildered parents. I'm only very attenuated anything."

Walton started to gather up his tableware.

"No," she said, rising, "don't get up, I'll take care of the dishes."

He watched her putter in the tiny galley for a minute. Then he said, seriously, "Tomorrow we go on as far as we can. The last outpost this side of Gondwana. I'll appreciate your staying on the boat then. I can't be sure how he'll take to you being there." He thought, but did not say, I don't want you getting into anything with him the way you almost did with Dews.

Kelly glanced over her shoulder at him. "How who'll take what?"

"How the hermit'll take to you being there. The old man of the mountain, as I call him."