"Island of Dr Death by Gene Wolfe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nebula Award Stories 6)driftwood pushed just off the asphalt.
"You got a nice, soft mommy, you know that? When I climb on her it's just like being on a big pillow." You nod, remembering the times when, lonely and frightened by dreams, you have crawled into her bed and snuggled against her soft warmthbut at the same time angry, knowing Jason is somehow deriding you both. Home is silent and dark, and you leave Jason as soon as you can, bounding off down the hall and up the stairs ahead of him, up a second, narrow, twisted flight to your own room in the turret. I had this story from a man who was breaking his word in telling it. How much it has suffered in his hands1 should say in his mouth, rather1 cannot say. In essentials it is true, and I give it to you as it was given to me. This is the story he told. Captain Phillip Ransom had been adrift, alone, for nine days when he saw the island. It was already late evening when it appeared like a thin line of purple on ithe borizon, but Ransom did not sleep that nil?ht TheiB was no feeble questionmg m 'his wakeful mind oonoerning the reality of what he had seen; 'he bad been given that one glimpse 'and he taiew. Instead his brain teemed with facts and speculations. He knew he must be somewhere near New Guinea, and in thiese waters and what he had learned in the past nine days of the behavior of his raft. The island when he reached ithe did not 'allow himself to ifwould in all probability be solid jungle a few feet back from the water's edgp. There might or might not be natives, but he brought to mind all he could of the Bazaar Malay and Tagalog he had acquired in his years as a pilot, plantation manager, white hunter, 'and professional fighting man in the Pacific. In the morning he saw that purple shadow oo the horizon again, a little nearer .this time and almost pre- cisely where his mental calculations 'had told him to expect it. For nine days there had 'been no reason to employ the inadequate paddles .provided with the raft, but now he had something to row for. Ransom drank the last of his water and began stroking with a steady and powerful beat which was not interrupted BOtil the prow of 'his rubber craft ground into the beach sand. Morning. You are slowly awake. Your eyes feel gummy, and the light over your bed is still on. Downstairs there is no one, so you get a bowl and milk and puffed, sugary cereal out for yourself and light the oven with a kitchen |
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