"Jack Vance - The Last Castle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

Xanten looked them over. All were of the same sort, a
metal frame with four wheels and an earth-moving blade at
the front. Nearby must be the syrup stock.
Xanten presently found a bin containing a number of
containers. He loaded a dozen on a nearby wagon and slashed
the rest with his knife, so that the syrup gushed across the
ground. The Meks used a somewhat different formulation;
their syrup would be stocked at a different locale, presumably
inside the barracks.
Xanten mounted a power-wagon, twisted the 'awake' key,
tapped the 'Go' button, pulled a lever which set the wheels
into reverse motion. The power-wagon lurched back. Xanten
halted it and turned it so that it faced the barracks. He did
likewise with three others, then set them all in motion, one
after the other.
They trundled forward. The blades cut open the metal wall
of the barracks, the roof sagged. The power-wagons con-
tinued, pushing the length of the interior, crushing all in their
way.
Xanten nodded in profound satisfaction, returned to the
power-wagon he had reserved for his own use. Mounting to
the seat, he waited. No Meks issued from the barracks.
Apparently they were deserted, with the entire crew busy at
the hangars. Still, hopefully, the syrup stocks had been de-
stroyed. Many might perish by starvation.
From the direction of the hangars came a single Mek,
evidently attracted by the sounds of destruction. Xanten
*Power-wagons, like the Meks, were originally swamp-creatures from
Etamin 9. They were great rectangular slabs of muscle, slung into a
rectangular frame and protected from sunlight, insects and rodents by a
synthetic pelt. Syrup sacs communicated with their digestive apparatus,
wires led to motor nodes in the rudimentary brain. The muscles were
clamped to rocker arms which actuated rotors and drive-wheels. The
power-wagons were economical, long-lived and docile, and so they were
principally used for heavy cartage, earth-moving, heavy-tillage, and other
arduous jobs.
crouched on the seat and as it passed, coiled his whip around
the stocky neck. He heaved; the Mek spun to the ground,
Xanten leapt down, seized its pellet-gun. Here was another
of the larger Meks, and now Xanten saw it to be without a
syrup sac, a Mek in the original state. Astounding! How did
the creature survive? Suddenly there were many new ques-
tions to be asked; hopefully a few to be answered. Standing
on the creature's head, Xanten hacked away the long antenna
quills which protruded from the back of the Mek's scalp. It
was now insulated, alone, on its own resources; a situation
certain to reduce the most stalwart Mek to apathy.
"Up!" ordered Xanten. "Into the back of the wagon!" He
cracked the whip for emphasis.
The Mek at first seemed disposed to defy him, but after a