"Alan E. Nourse - Peacemaker" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nourse Alan E)

alien on the crew. This one especially was afraid of him, wanted him dead immediately, and had come to
see that he was dead! Alone, on his own initiative, against the will of the others. And in a cold wave of
fear, Flicker knew that he would do it.
There was no curiosity in the assassin's mind, only fear and hate. Through one not-quite closed eye
Flicker watched the alien approach. It held a syringe-like instrument in its claws, and the oily skin was
oozing a foul-smelling fluid that stood in droplets all over its face. The fear in the alien's mind intensified,
impinging on Flicker's brain with the drive and force of a trip-hammer, clear and cold. "If the others find it
dead, there is nothing they can do—"
The alien was beside him, its head near Flicker's face, and he caught the bright glint of glass and steel,
too near. Like lightning Flicker swung with his free arm, a sudden, crushing blow. The alien emitted one
small, audible squeak, and dropped to the floor, its thin skull squashed like an eggshell right down to its
neck.
Frantic with the maddening light and heat, Flicker ripped away the restraints on his other arm and
legs. Ripping a magna-boot from the alien's foot, he heaved it with all his might at the source of the light.
There was a loud pop, and the cabin sank into darkness again. Flicker wiped the moisture from his
forehead, and stood numb and panting at the side of the table as the afterglow faded and the wonderful
coolness crept through him again. And then he saw, almost with a start, the body on the metal floor
before him.
Gagging from the stench of the thing, he knelt beside it and examined it with trembling fingers. With
the light gone, the alien had changed color, its leathery skin now a pasty white, its shaggy mane brown.
White stuff oozed from its macerated head, mingled with a red fluid which resembled blood. Flicker
dabbed his finger in it, sniffed it. A red body fluid should mean an oxygen metabolism, like his own, but
he had concluded from the heavy atmosphere that the aliens were nitrogen-metabolistic. That would
account, in part, for their sluggishness, their slow thinking.
Realization of the situation began to crowd into his brain. This creature was dead! He had killed it.
He sat back on the floor, panting, trying to channel his wheeling thoughts into a coherent pattern. He'd
killed one of the aliens ; that meant that his last hope for peaceful contact was gone. The mission was lost,
and his danger critical. Even if he could succeed in concealing himself, it was unthinkable to go with them
to their home planet. Escape? Equally unthinkable. They were vengeful creatures, as well as 'curious.
Their vengeance might be murderous—
Briefly his wife and family flashed through his mind, waiting for him, so proud that he had been
chosen for the mission, so eager for his success. And his leaders, watching, waiting daily for his return.
There could be no success to report now, nothing but failure.
But he had to survive, he had to get back! There could be other missions, but somehow he. had to
get back
The situation fell sharply into his mind, crystal clear. There was no alternative now. He would have to
destroy every creature on the ship.
One against seven. He considered the odds swiftly, the sudden urgency of the situation slamming
home. They had weapons, the ship was known to them, they could signal for help. There must be
something to turn to his advantage—
He kicked the alien's foot, thoughtfully—
The lights!
Flicker jumped to his feet, his heart pounding audibly in his throat. Why such brilliant light, why such
a slow-cycle current that he could see the intermittent off-and-on? Obviously, what he saw as an
oscillation was a steady light to them. With such low light-sensitivity the aliens had to have such brilliant
lights. They couldn't see without them! The agonizing brilliance that sent Flicker into convulsions was
merely the light necessary for them to see at all.
And comfortable seeing-light for him was to them—total darkness!
Far forward in the ship a metal door clanged. Flicker was instantly alert, nerves alive, every muscle
tense. Klock was dead, he would be missed by the others. He took a quick glance around him; and