"Bradley, Marion Zimmer - Hunters of the Red Moon - 1973" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bradley Marion Zimmer)

The basis of the plan was simplicity itself and hardly more complex than that of the man who had died; to take advantage of the early unlocking and late closing of the cell to slip out, rally other prisoners to join them, knock the weapon from the hands of the Mekhar guard and force their way out of the slave quarters. The Mekhar might kill one or two of them before they were disarmed-Dane faced the possibility that he might be one of the first ones killed, probably, in fact, _would be-but certainly the Mekhar couldn't kill them all, and the rest would escape.

Once they were out of the slave quarters, what then? They would have to face the rest of the crew; in the hospital area there were tangler fields, and perhaps in other areas of the ship too.

"We can't do it alone," he said to Aratak.

"I never thought we could."

"But we can't even _plan it alone. I don't know enough about the Mekhars; I don't know enough about your spaceships; I don't know enough about your civilization or weapons or even your Unity. We need help, and quickly, even to make sensible plans."

"I think you are right," the great lizard-man said. "We must decide which of our colleagues we can approach for help, and which of us would go mad like that poor creature and give us away with rashness or panic, or even betray us to the Mekhars in return for some small advantage-oh, yes, some of us in here, even, might do that." The edges of his leathery gray jaws began to glow slightly, luminous. "I will consult the wisdom of the Egg. And I suppose you will break it first to Dallith."

Dane felt his throat close with a spasm of sudden fear; not for himself, but for the girl. He had tried so hard to keep all upsetting thoughts away from her; and the man who had gone berserk had upset her so greatly that he had been afraid, for a moment, that she would drop back into that deathly, death-seeking lassitude. "I think not," he said hoarsely. "First I will speak to Rianna." Perhaps Dallith could be kept free of this, protected until all the danger was over....

He was beginning, now, to be able to distinguish subtle changes of expression on Aratak's leathery countenance; but he did not, yet, know what emotion ridged the rugose forehead and made the small wattles around the amphibian's gill-slits glow luminous. Aratak was moved; but whether by sympathy, disagreement, or annoyance Dane Marsh could not yet tell. His voice was as flat as ever when he said, "Well, you proto-simians know one another as I never could, so perhaps you are right. I will inquire carefully and seek wisdom; speak to Rianna if you will."

Dane waited until the next meal period, and when all the inmates of then" particular cell had seized their coded food trays and were seeking places to eat, he laid a hand on Rianna's arm.

"I want to talk to you," he said in an undertone. "Sit here beside me, in this corner, and eat." As they tore open the strips of their trays, he outlined what he had noticed about the locking and unlocking of the cell doors, and saw her dark eyes light up fiercely.

"I've wondered if anyone else saw that! It seems that everyone else here is either a coward, or insanely rash! You're right, something could be done, but what could I, a woman, do alone? I'm with you, Dane, even if I'm the first one shot down!"

He grinned a little sourly. "I thought you were the one preaching the virtues of resignation. You were feeling hopeless enough to let Dallith die."

I was doing what seemed best on the basis of what I knew of her people," Rianna said stiffly. "Anyone can act in ignorance. I'm enough of a scientist, I hope, to change my theories as I acquire more facts. After observing the Mekhars for a few periods-and the quality of our fellow prisoners-I feel a little more optimistic."

"You do know," Dane said slowly, "that if we take the lead, you and I may very well be the first ones to be shot down? It's not a pleasant death."

"But at least when it's over, I won't have to worry about what happens next, would I? But just in case we should survive long enough to have that particular worry, what happens after that? I take it you don't mean to stop at letting us out of the cages. What next?"

"I don't know," Dane said frankly. "That's why I came to you. I'm no good as the leader of this enterprise. I might be able to help us bust out of the cages. But once we're out, I'm about as much use as sails on a spaceship. I'm the one from the backward world, remember. What I know about spaceships could be painlessly engraved on my thumbnail in large block letters. I'd kind of thought that we might hold the Mekhar guards hostages for our own freedom; arrogant races usually hold the lives of their own kind very precious, even if they treat other races as expendable. But I don't know the Mekhars. And even if we could manage to kill off or subdue every damned lion-face on the ship, we'd still be out of my element, I wouldn't know how to get us to a safe port, or even how to hit the distress button and yell for help if we started to crash-land or fall into a sun."

"Oh, as far as that goes, Roxon has a pilot's certificate," Rianna said. "I don't think he's ever handled anything this _size-he certainly isn't licensed to-but the ultralight drives are standard all through the known Galaxy. Once the Mekhars are out of the way, he could land us somewhere inside the Unity."

Dane reflected that this wouldn't help _him much, but after all, that was a small point. He couldn't help being better off inside a civilized government-no matter how strange or alien-than outside it The Unity at least didn't deal in slaves.

"I suppose the next step is to enlist Roxon as part of our plan, then," he said, "if you're sure we can trust him. You know him. I don't."

Rianna said, in disgust, "What do you take him for? He's a civilized citizen."

"Presumably, so is that poor chap who rushed the nerve-guns," Dane said. "I wasn't impugning his standards of decency. I simply don't know him at all. How can I be in a position to judge how brave he is? How likely he is to panic? How well he holds up hi a crisis? Or even how well he can hold his tongue and keep from talking to the wrong people? Why in hell do you think I asked you first?"

Her mouth lifted in a small smile and suddenly she looked younger and prettier. "I think I've just had a compliment," she said. "Thank you, Marsh. I'll talk to Roxon. I've known him for a long time, and I'd trust him with my life, my personal fortune, and my scientific reputation, if that's any indication."

"Look. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend-"

She shrugged. "Forget it You have no reason to trust him, nor has he any reason to trust _you. He has a prejudice against inhabitants of habitable worlds which haven't joined the Unity."

"How in-how could I join your what's-it, Unity, when nobody on our world was ever given any inkling that it even _existed?"