"Stanley G. Weinbaum - Margaret Of Urbs 01 - The Black Flame" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinbaum Stanley G)

weapons while Vail Ormiston, pale and nervous and very lovely, watched him. He drew a bit of oiled rag
through the bore of the rifle she had given him, rubbed a spot of rust from the hammer, blew a speck of
dust from the pan. Beside him on the table lay powder horn and ball, and his steel bow leaned against his
chair.

"A sweet weapon!" he said admiringly, sighting down the long barrel.

"IтАФI hope it serves you well," murmured Vail trem-ulously. "Hull, he must be stopped. He must!"

"We'll try, Vail." He rose. "It's time I started."

She was facing him. "Then, before you go, will you тАФkiss me, Hull?"

He strode toward her, then recoiled in sudden alarm, for it was at that instant that the thing
happened. There was a series of the faintest possible clicks, and Hull fancied that he saw for an instant a
glistening of tiny blue sparks on candle-sticks and metal objects about the room, and that he felt for a
brief moment a curious ting-ling. Then he forgot all of these strange trifles as the powder horn on the
table roared into terrific flame, and flaming wads of powder shot meteor-like around him.

For an instant he froze rigid. Vail was screaming; her dress was burning. He moved into sudden
action, sweeping her from her feet, crashing her sideways to the floor, where his great hands beat out the
fire. Then he slapped table and floor; he brought his ample sandals down on flaming spots, and finally
there were no more flames.

He turned coughing and choking in the black smoke, and bent over Vail, who gasped half overcome.
Her skirt had burned to her knees, and for the moment she was too distraught to cover them, though
there was no modesty in the world in those days like that of the women of the middle river regions. But
as Hull leaned above her she huddled back.

"Are you hurt?" he cried. "Vail, are you burned?" "NoтАФno!" she panted.

"Then outside!" he snapped, reaching down to lift her. "NotтАФnot like this!"

He understood. He snatched his leather smith's apron from the wall, whipped it around her, and
bore her into the clearer air of the street.

Outside there was chaos. He set Vail gently on the step and surveyed a scene of turmoil. Men ran
shouting, and from windows along the street black smoke poured. A dozen yards away a powder
wagon had blasted itself into a vast mushroom of smoke, incinerating horses and driver alike. On the
porch across the way lay a writhing man, torn by the rifle that had burst in his hands.

He comprehended suddenly. "The sparkers!"* he roared. "Joaquin Smith's sparkers! Old Einar told
me about them." He groaned. "There goes our ammunition." The girl made a great effort to control
herself. "Joa-quin Smith's sorcery," she said dully. "And there goes hope as well."

*The Erden resonators. A device, now obsolete, that projected an inductive field sufficient to
induce tiny electrical discharges in metal objects up to a distance of many miles. Thus it ignited
in-flammables like gunpowder.
 He started. "Hope? No! Wait, Vail." He rushed toward the milling group that surrounded bearded
old Marcus Ormiston and the Confederation lead-ers. He plowed his way fiercely through, and seized