"Charles Ingrid - The Sand Wars 04 - Alien Salute" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ingrid Charles)

He pinched at a leaf now, examining the underside critically for sign of
mites or fungus, frowning in an expression which he knew imitated that of
his father. His father stood far away at the fields' end, carrying his keypad in
the crook of his arm, varying the harvesting pattern of his machinery as he
worked.

Jack stood up. He looked down the row of growth and saw, almost
beyond his eyeshot, a nest resting under wavering, wilting leaves. The
harvester loomed beyond, darkening the horizon with its presence.

He moved so quickly he almost lost his cap. His brother's cap, too, and
not only would he catch hell for wearing it, he'd catch double hell for losing
it, he thought as he bolted forward. He pitched forward, scampering down
the irrigation trough, even as the nesting bird dove past his face, wings
fluttering and beating at his eyes. Jack ducked away and tugged his hat on
tighter.

He stopped a few meters from the nest and stood, his chest heaving from
the run. His shirt clung wetly to his back. Dust swirled around him and then
settled. The noise of the harvester battered against his ears and he looked
up, watching it head straight at him.

His dad was beyond sight and hearing. Jack would have to save the nest
on his own. He eyed the creamy black and white swirled shells. The mother
would come back—she'd just been nipping at his ear—and if she perceived
him as a real threat, she'd cover the nest, feign a broken wing, then try to
lead him away.

It was the nest covering movement he waited for even as the harvester
bore down on them, blocking out the sun's rays as it came.

Jack stopped squinting as the shadow fell across them. He reached up
and took his brother's cap off as he waited.

The bird wheeled about him once, her gray and speckled body arrowing
across the field. He caught a glimpse of white-ringed amber eyes, piercing
and alarmed.

If only Dad hadn't taken the safety off the harvester, it would have
perceived him and halted. It was a drain on the batteries, Dad said, and so
he'd removed it. Who would be stupid enough to stand in front of the
machine, anyway?

Salty sweat dripped into his eyes and he brushed the sting away with the
back of his hand, wincing as his vision blurred. From the corner of his eye,
he saw the mother bird drop frantically to earth and attempt to cover her
nest with both her body and any stray twigs she could scratch up.

Jack pounced, cap in hand.