"E. C. Tubb - Death Is A Dream" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

Scanned by Highroller.

Proofed by an unsung hero.


DEATH IS A DREAM
E.C. Tubb



I



TOG HALSEN, scavenger extraordinary, glowered as he stared into his immediate future.
Everyone knew that he was one of the best in the business, but unless he had a break and soon, that
reputation wouldn't last. He had failed twice running. If he failed again it would be hard to find backers,
good workers, decent equipment and official assistance. He had seen it happen to others. He would drop
to scraping a living on a contingent basis, trying to cut corners and dodge safety factors.

And that, he thought grimly, was the beginning of the end.

Tiredly the scavenger stretched and looked at the maps on his field desk. Damn all retros anyway. He
had a growing conviction that he had been conned into something and he didn't like it.

Irritably he jerked to his feet and crossed the uneven ground of the camp. The thin column of smoke
from the metfire rose to one side but he ignored it. He timed his expeditions well and there was no
immediate danger from southern winds—not unless nature had decided to change the habits of centuries.
But the fire, and attendant, and the fee for radioed weather reports were all added expense. His scowl
deepened as he approached the diggings.

"Where's Saul?"

"On the job." A square man with a scarred face jerked his thumb toward a crumpled opening in a
mound of vegetation-shrouded debris. Fresh-turned earth lay to either side and the white-clad figure of
the Life Institute operator was busy with his culture plates.

"How long?" Tog didn't look at the lifeman. Sometimes official approval of a thing cost more than it
was worth but you never knew when you might need a doctor.

"He's been gone about thirty minutes." The scarred man glanced at the opening. "He was just going to
take a quick preliminary." He grunted as a figure filled the opening. "Here he comes now."

Saul was a big man, bigger by reason of the padded body armor and protective helmet he wore. He
pulled the respirator from his mouth, the glove from his right hand and wiped the back of it across his
mouth. He looked dusty, tired and irritated. He shook his head at Tog's expression.

"No luck. It looks like it was a warehouse or a factory of some kind. The basement is holding up but I
wouldn't like to gamble for how long. The upper structure has collapsed and only a few beams are
supporting the weight."