"David Weber - Empire of Man 02 - March to the Sea" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weber David)

"He's cold, Sir." The medic shook his head. "Really cold." Warrant Dobrescu pulled the monitor
back from the Mardukan and shook his head again, his expression worried. "I need to go check the
mahouts. If Cord is in this bad a shape, they're going to be worse. Their cover isn't as good."
"Is he going to be okay?" the anxious prince asked.
"I don't know. I suspect that he's probably sort of hibernating, but it's possible that if they get too
cold something will shut down and kill them." Dobrescu took another breath and shook his head. "I've
been meaning to do a really thorough study of Mardukan body chemistry and physiology. It looks like I
waited a bit too long."
"Well, we needтАФ" the prince began, only to break off at the sound of shouting from outside the tent.
"Now what the hell is that?"
***
"Modderpockers, let me go!" Poertena shouted. He snarled at the laughing Marines who were
crawling out of their one-person tents to sniff at the morning air. "Gimme a pocking hand, damn it!"
"Okay, everybody," St. John (J.) said, slowly clapping. "Let's give him a hand."
"Now that," Roger said, "is a truly disgusting menage a . . . uh . . ."
"Menage a cinq is the term you're looking for," Doc Dobrescu said, laughing as he walked over to
the pinned armorer and the four comatose Mardukans wrapped tightly about his diminutive form.
Roger shook his head and chuckled, but he also waved to the Marines.
"Some of you guys, help the Doc."
St. John (J.) grabbed one of Denat's inert arms and started trying to disengage it from the armorer.
 "This really is gross, Poertena," the Marine said as he tried to pull one of the slime-covered arms off
the armorer.
"You pocking telling me? I wake up, and it not'ing but arms and slime!"
Roger began to haul on Tratan as the Mardukan groaned and resisted the pulling Marines.
"They seem to like you, Poertena."
"Well," the armorer's response sounded mildly strangled, "they tryin' to kill me now! Leggo!"
"They like his heat," the warrant officer grunted as he helped Roger heave, then said something
unprintable under his breath and gave up. The united efforts of three Marines had so far been unable to
get Denat to release his grip, and the bear hug actually did threaten to kill the armorer. "Somebody build
a fire. Maybe if we warm them up, they'll let go."
"And somebody help me get Cord," Roger said, then thought about the weight of the Mardukan.
"Several somebodies." He looked over to the picket lines where the mahouts made their camp. "Did
anybody notice that the packbeasts are missing?" he asked, bemusedly.
***
"We passed through a cold front," the medic said, shaking his head. "Or what passes for one on this
screwy planet."
Captain Pahner had called a council of war to consider the night's events. The group sat near the
edge of the camp, looking down on the forest of clouds that stretched into the distance from their foothills
perch. Above them, the true mountains loomed trackless.
"What cold front?" Julian asked. "I didn't see any cold front."
"You remember that rain we had yesterday afternoon?" Dobrescu asked.
"Sure, but it rains all the time here," the NCO replied skeptically.
"But that one went on for a long time," Roger noted. "Usually, they just sort of hit in short spurts. That
one rained, and rained, and rained."
"Right." The medic nodded. "And today, the air pressure is a few points higher than yesterday. Not
muchтАФthis planet doesn't have much in the way of a weather systemтАФbut enough. Anyway, the cloud
layer got suppressed," he gestured to the clouds, "the humidity fell, and the temperature . . ."
"Dropped like a rock," Pahner said. "We got that part. Can the locals handle it?"
The medic sighed and shrugged.
"That I don't know. Most terrestrial isothermic and posithermic creatures can survive to just above