"Timothy Zahn - Manta's Gift" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zahn Timothy)

The giant Douglas fir that had loomed suddenly in his path.

He'd tried very hard to dodge that tree. Used every bit of his skill and the precious quarter-second of
time he had to make sure he didn't slam into it. And to his rather smug satisfaction at the time, he
had succeeded.

He shouldn't have tried. He wished desperately now that he hadn't. He should have just hit the tree,
accepted whatever broken ribs it would have cost him, and been done with it.

But he had been too clever for that. Too clever and too skillful and too arrogant. Besides, Brianna
had been right there behind him, with Alan and Bobbi somewhere behind her. He would have looked
like an idiot, running into a tree like an amateur. Especially after having bragged about how close he
could ski to the edge of the run without getting into trouble.

He'd avoided the tree just fine. But he hadn't managed to avoid the edge of the small bush beside it.

He could still feel the exhilarating sensation of spinning through the air. It had been like a carnival

file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Timothy%20Zahn%20-%20Manta's%20Gift.htm (16 of 298) [10/18/2004 3:39:27 PM]
Manta's Gift


ride, exciting and mind-spinning, with that faint tinge of fear that gave zest to all the best carnival
rides. After all, he was twenty-two years and seven months old, poised to graduate from college with
his whole life stretching out like infinity in front of him. He was invincible, and invulnerable, and
alive.

He could remember hearing Brianna afterward trying frantically to describe to the paramedics what
had happened. She'd done a pretty poor job of it, too. She couldn't even tell them how many times
he'd spun around in the air.

He could have told them. He knew. One and a half times.

Exactly.

The ride had come to an end with the suddenness of a coaster braking. Oddly enough, there hadn't
been any pain. Just that single muffled crack from somewhere behind his ear.

And then he'd been lying on his back in the snow, cold air on his cheeks and the unpleasant
sensation of icy water seeping through his scarf onto his neck. Staring up at the overcast sky, just
like he was staring now at the pastel blue ceiling.

Unable to move his arms and legs. Unable to even feel them.

For a while Brianna's face had blocked out some of the sky. He could visualize her face in front of
him now, wisps of her brown hair twitching restlessly in the wind around the edge of her bright red
ski cap, the smooth skin of her forehead stressed and wrinkled. Her wide, sensuous mouth had been
twisted into something ugly by her fear, her deep brown eyes squinting in agony of her own as tears
ran down her cheeks and dripped onto his. She'd cried and gasped and pleaded with him over and
over to be all right.