"Darksaber (Kevin Anderson)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Kevin J)

outcast's drab garments soon made him fade into the landscape.

The lead Raider turned and, with a single energetic leap, mounted his
bantha. The other Sand People climbed into their saddles. The banthas snorted
and stomped on the loose sand.

Han got back to his seat. Luke was the last to balance himself again, and
by that time the lead Raider had already turned the hairy beast to the side
and began to plunge down the shallower slope at the back of the dune. The
other Sand People followed, marching closely in line to mask their tracks.

Han risked a glance behind him. He could just make out the single exiled
Raider dwindling in the distance, moving with slow determination as ripples of
heat blurred his tiny figure. Soon he was swallowed completely by the
unforgiving jaws of the Dune Sea.

The heat of the day seemed to last forever, and Han rode in a fugue
state, barely aware of his surroundings, self-hypnotized by a litany of
rocking footfalls. Ahead, Luke continued to sit upright on the bantha saddle,
though he wavered from time to time. Han wondered what sort of energy the Jedi
Knight was tapping into.

The group camped in a thick maze of rocky badlands punctuated by
pockmarked stone needles rising out of the windblown sand. Darkness fell
quickly with the double sunset, and the temperature plummeted. For a while the
rocks continued to throb with stored heat, but they quickly cooled.

Grunting and chuffing to each other in their baffling language, the Sand
People pitched camp. Each knew his or her own duties-Han could not tell
whether the individual Tuskens were male or female. Luke had said that only
assigned mates were able to see each other with faces unwrapped.

Two of the younger people encircled a flat area with smaller rocks, and
piled bricks of what Han realized must be dried bantha dung, the only fuel
source available out in the barrens.

Han and Luke moved about, trying to appear busy. The banthas, not
corralled or tied in any way, were simply led to a side canyon where they
could rest for the night. Other Raiders broke out packages of stringy dried
meat. Han and Luke took their share and squatted on boulders.

Carefully, Han lifted his metal breathmask and jammed a piece of the meat
into his mouth. He chewed and wasted several drinks of water as he tried to
make the jerky palatable enough to swallow. "What is this stuff?" he muttered
into the voice pickup.

Luke answered without looking at him. "Dried and salted dewback flank, I
believe."

"Tastes like leather," Han muttered.