"Andre Norton - The X Factor 1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

Keys to worlds—suppose one could use one? Diskan's hands dropped again to his knees, but his
fingers crooked a little. That thinking, which was clear until he tried to translate it into action, picked at
him.

A blue world—another Nyborg or Vaanchard. A green—no, he had no desire to face another alien
race, and his landing on such a planet would be marked at once. Yellow, that was death, escape of a
sort, but he was too young and still not desperate enough to think seriously of that final door. But those
three red—

His tongue crossed his lips. For a long while he had drawn into himself, refused to initiate action that
always ended in failure for him. There was a key to be used only by a very reckless man, one who had
nothing to lose. Diskan Fentress could be considered as such. He could never be content on Vaanchard.
All he asked or wanted was what they would not grant him—solitude and freedom from all they were
and he could not be.

But could he do it? There was the tape, and outside this house, not too far away, was the port. On that
landing space were berthed small, fast spacers. For once his background would be an asset. Who would
believe that the stupid off-worlder would contemplate stealing a ship when he had no pilot training, when
the control quarters of a small ship would be so cramped for his hulking body? It was a stupid plan, but
he was stupid.

Diskan did not get to his feet. Intent even now on making no sound, no move that might betray him, on
all fours like the animal he believed he was, he reached the tape rack. His big hand hovered over the
three red disks. Which? Not that it mattered. His fingers closed about the middle one, transferred it to a
belt pocket—but that left an easily noticeable gap. Diskan made a second shift at the rack; now that gap
was at the end of the row, in the shadow. If he had any luck at all, it might not be noticed for some time.

He was rising when he heard it, the click of the door latch. Two steps would carry him to cover. Dared
he take them? But again, for once, body and brain worked together. He did not stumble over his own
feet, lurch against the table to send the ornament crashing, or make any other mistake; he got safely
behind the window curtains before the door opened.



II
Nothwithstanding the half light, the figure that entered shimmered. Frost stars glinted from a wide collar,
from a belt of state. Drustans! Diskan flattened himself still closer to the window frame, felt it bite
painfully into his thighs, tried to breathe as shallowly as possible. Rixa was bad enough, but to confront
D.rustans, her brother, would be a double defeat.

The Vaan youth moved with all the grace of his kind to the desk-table and hesitated there for an instant.
Diskan expected him at any moment to wheel, face the window, and draw the skulker out of hiding by
the very force of his will. There would be no change in the grave concern of his expression, of course. He
would continue to be correct, always able to do the proper thing at the proper time and to do it well.

A small smolder of dull anger still glowed in Diskan, perhaps fed by the fact that in this room he had
been able to make a decision, to carry it through without mishap. To surrender now to Drustans would
be a special sourness.

But if the Vaan had come for Diskan, nosed him out in some manner—and Diskan was willing to