"Harry Harrison - Deathworld 2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

The radio operator was alone in the spaceport tower, a teen-age boy who
had never been offplanet, and therefore knew only Pyrran, while Jason, after
his career as a professional gambler, spoke or had nodding acquaintance with
most of the galactic languages.

"It's orbiting out of range now," the operator said. "Be back in a
moment. Talks something different." He turned the gain up, and above the
crackle of atmospherics a voice slowly grew.

"jeg kan ikke forsta°. . . Pyrrus, kan dig hØr mig". . .

"No trouble with that," Jason said, reaching for the microphone. "It's
Nytdansk-they speak it on most of the planets in the Polaris area." He thumbed
the switch on.

"Pyrrus til ruin fartskib, over," he said, and opened the switch. The
answer came back in the same language.

"Request landing permission. What are your coordinates?"

"Permission denied, and the suggestion strongly presented that you find
a healthier planet."

"That is impossible, since I have a message for Jason dinAlt and I have
information that he is here."

Jason looked at the crackling loudspeaker with new interest. "Your
information is correct: dinAlt speaking. What is the message?"

"It cannot be delivered over a public circuit. I am now following your
radio beam down. Will you give me instructions?"

"You do realize that you are probably committing suicide? This is the
deadliest planet in the galaxy, and all the life forms, from the bacteria up
to the clawhawks-which are as big as the ship you're flying- are inimical to
man. There is a truce of sorts going now, but it is still certain death for an
outworlder like you. Can you hear me?"

There was no answer. Jason shrugged and looked at the approach radar.

"Well, it's your life. But don't say with your dying breath that you
weren't warned. I'll bring you in-but only if you agree to stay in your ship.
I'll come out to you; that way you have a fifty-fifty chance that the
decontamination cycling in your spacelock will kill the local microscopic
life."

"That is agreeable," came the answer, "since I have no wish to die-only
to deliver my message."

Jason guided the ship in, watched it emerge from the low-lying clouds,