"Andre Norton - Warlock Trilogy - Storm over Warlock" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

blast the Terran ship in the upper atmosphere, crippling it, making this a forced landing? But at least this
battle had cost the Throgs, settling a small portion of the Terran debt for the lost camp.

The length of time between Shann’s sighting of the grounded ship and the attack by the Throgs had been so
short that he had not really developed any strong hope of rescue to be destroyed by the end of the crippled
ship. On the other hand, seeing the Throgs taking a beating had exploded his subconscious acceptance of
their superiority. He might not have even the resources of a damaged scout at his command. But he did
have Taggi, Togi, and his own brain. Since he was fated to permanent exile on Warlock, there might just
be some way to make the beetles pay for that.

He licked his lips. Real action against the aliens would take a lot of planning. Shann would have to know
more about what made a Throg a Throg, more than all the wild stories he had heard over the years. There
had to be some way a Terran could move effectively against a beetle-head. And he had a lot of time, maybe
the rest of his life to work out a few answers. That Throg ship lying wrecked at the foot of the cliff . . .
perhaps he could do a little investigating before any rescue squad arrived. Shann decided such a move was
worth the try and whistled to the wolverines.

3 : TO CLOSE RANKS

Shann made his way at an angle to avoid the smoking pit cradling the wreckage of the Terran ship. There
were no signs of life about the Throg plate as he approached. A quarter of its bulk was telescoped back into
the rest, and surely none of the aliens could have survived such a smash, tough as they were reputed to be
within those those horny carapaces.

He sniffed. There was a nauseous odor heavy on the morning air, one which would make a lasting
impression on any human nose. The port door in the black ship stood open, perhaps having burst in the
impact against the cliff. Shann had almost reached it when a crackle of chain lightning beat across the
ground before him, turning the edge of the buckled entrance panel red.

Shann dropped to the ground, drawing his stunner, knowing at the same moment that such a weapon was
about as much use in meeting a blaster as a straw wand would be to ward off a blazing coal. A chill
numbness held him as he waited for a second blast to char the flesh between his shoulders. So there had
been a Throg survivor, after all.

But as moments passed and the Throg did not move in to make an easy kill, Shann collected his wits. Only
one shot! Was the beetle injured, unable to make sure of even an almost defenseless prey? The Throgs
seldom took prisoners. When they did . . .

The Terran’s lips tightened. He worked his hand under his prone body, feeling for the hilt of his knife.
With that he could speedily remove himself from the status of Throg prisoner, and he would do it gladly if
there was no hope of escape. Had there been only one charge left in that blaster? Shann could make half a
dozen guesses as to why the other had made no move, but that shot had come from behind him, and he
dared not turn his head or otherwise make an effort to see what the other might be doing.

Was it only his imagination, or had that stench grown stronger during the last few seconds? Could the
Throg be creeping up on him? Shann strained his ears, trying to catch some sound he could interpret. The
few clak-claks that had survived the blast about the ship were shrieking overhead, and Shann made one
attempt at counterattack.

He whistled the wolverines’ call. The pair had not been too willing to follow him down into this valley,