"Richard Wilson - Transitory Island" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilson Richard)

"Good," laughed Hayes. "I'm going down."
He had stripped to bathing trunks. He placed the diving helmet over his
shoulders and waded out into the water. Gradually he disappeared under the
surface.
Doug Pelton pumped rhythmically, watching the airhose snake into the water.
Five minutes later the hose stopped jerking. Doug looked out to where Hayes
had
disappeared from view. Bubbles were coming to the surface in unnatural
profusion. He tugged on the airhose; there was no resistance. The hose was no
longer connected to the helmet!
Was it cut? Doug hauled it in. No; the end had been disconnected. What did it
mean? Was there air--somewhere--down under the island? He waited, tensely,
lighting a cigarette from the pack Murray had given him.
Minutes passed. Doug tossed his cigaret[sic] into the Pacific. Why didn't
Hayes
come back? And where was Murray? What was down there? Were they in danger? He
determined to find out.
With a keen-bladed pearl knife strapped to his trunks, he swam out to where
the
bubbles had come up. He breathed in a lungful of air--and dived. Eyes open
under
water, he saw the metal of the island curve downward, to disappear in a
blue-green haze. Powerful strokes brought him nearer. The island seemed to be
a
great gray sphere, submerged for seven-eights[sic] of its depth.
Doug propelled himself closer. He made out a ragged, gaping hole in the side
of
the sphere. Nothing was visible within, save a forbidding blackness. When his
lungs began to ache, he expelled his breath and streaked for the surface.
In the plane he found what he wanted: a waterproof flashlight. Again he went
down. This time he made straight for the hole. With the light held firmly
under
his armpit, he swam cautiously inside. The light illumined a small
compartment.
The swimmer shuddered. It was cold in here. His natural buoyancy caused him
to
rise. He flashed the light upward, and almost dropped it. He caught a glimpse
of
a bloated, distorted human figure, floating face down.
He felt a trifle silly when he realized that the apparition was merely a
reflection of himself on the undersurface of the water. A second later he
broke
through into air.
Carefully he expelled some air from his lungs, drew a shallow breath. The
air,
although dank, was breathable. Gratefully he filled his lungs.
From the curvature of the gray walls revealed in the searching beam of his
light
it would seem that he was in a space between the inner and outer hulls of
this