"Murray Leinster - Invaders of Space" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leinster Murray)

quick patch."
"Two?"
"No!" said Horn. "If the repair shop here needs help, I'll try to give it to them. But you need
an overhaul."
"How much?" insisted the red-haired man belligerently.
"I simply won't do it," said Horn. "If you never reached port again, it would be my fault for
helping you. I won't do it."
The red-haired man lifted the walkie-talkie again.
"Skipper?" He listened. He nodded. He lowered tie instrument and said, "Skipper says skip
it. You lose a good package of cash!" He turned towards the door, and then turned back.
"Which way's the spaceport gate? Any place open for drinks on this hick planet?"
The grid operator gave him instructions. The red-haired man went out, followed by the two
soiled men, who hadn't uttered a word since they entered the office. When they'd gone down
the stairs the operator said peevishly, "Crazy! I'd lose my job and you'd lose your designer's
licence if we broke regulations like he wants. What do they think we are?"
"Crazy," agreed Horn.
He went again to the window and looked across the tarmac at the just-landed ship. It was
battered and antiquated. It might once have been a good ship of its kind, but that was a long
time ago. The Riccardo drive had had one advantage in the early days of space travel: it was
possible, at enormous cost in fuel, to make a landing and a lift-off where there was no landing
grid. There were some legitimate uses for such ships, but not many. Those that survived had
mostly gravitated to very dubious ways. No more Riccardo drives were being made. But the
Theban had probably seen some remarkable sights, and landed in some remarkable places, in
her time. Now, though -
Horn shrugged. Nowadays ships went from scheduled port to scheduled port, and
emergency rockets might let a ship down somewhere but would never lift it off again. And all
explorations were made by the Space Patrol, and everything was law-abiding and
commonplace. But it was curious that the Theban was in such urgent haste as to offer to bribe
him to try to patch her engines for an illegal lift-off before dawn. It would have been a
desperately risky business. For a moment or two Horn tried to guess what sort of emergency
would make the Theban's skipper willing to take a chance like that. He couldn't think of one.
Then his mind went back to the subject that had occupied it most of the time these past few
weeks: the Danae, of course, with Ginny on board, on her way to marry him. He turned away
from the window.
"Where'd the Theban touch ground last?" he asked.
"Maybe Wolkem," the operator told him, "but I can't be sure. They'll report in last port and
destination come morning, when the astrogation offices opens and they explain their
emergency."
Horn shrugged. He continued to think of Ginny on the Danae, rather than the ship just
landed.
"Anyhow, there's been no report of any new dangers to space mariners along the ship lane
the Danae's using. Not at this end, anyhow."
"Not at this end, no," agreed the operator. "Your girl's all right. Quit worrying."
"I should," admitted Horn, "but a man doesn't get married very often. It's natural to worry
some."
"You're making an occupation of it," grunted the operator.
Horn grimaced and went out, down the steps and towards the spaceport gate. There were no
skimmers to hire, now when there were no ships scheduled to be in port. He had to walk. He
might get a cruising night-owl skimmer at the gate to take him home.
All outdoors was still very quiet. There was a glow in the sky off to one side, where a city