"Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - The Meaning Of The Word" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yarbro Chelsea Quinn)

zig-zagging in a widening spiral. His heavy head was even larger in the Class
Eleven uniform. His hands hung like paws, wholly unlike what one expected in a
virologist. It was hard to think of him doing the minute manipulations that
were the mark of his work—it was like trying to imagine Caliban or Quasimodo
making watches or microcircuitry.

A yawning breeze wound a bit of dust on its finger and then sank back, too
tired to hold it. That was the feel of the whole place—drowsiness. The wind
barely breathed. The plain was heavy with dreaming, the sky unmarred by clouds
where the greater of two suns hung about fifteen degrees above the horizon, a
platter of polished copper. Our presence intruded on this somnambulistic
landscape where even the rocks were softened and sometimes crumbling and in
place of dirt there was sand that was not sand flickering in the monochrome
stillness.

Yet I wondered and hoped. There had been indications of structures from the
monitors on the Nordenskjold. I knew my digs were here to be found, if only I
knew where to look.

"Jhirinki's been wandering around," Wolton was reporting and the sound of my
name brought me back to the camp. He added in response to the captain's
garbled question, "It was Almrid's idea to bring along an archeologist. Not
mine. Ask him."

In the slow heat of the opalescent afternoon work was sluggish. There was
nothing for me to do but stare at the one odd spot in the distance—and wish.

Goetz swore in my earphone as his equipment toppled for the second time,
victim to the treacherous shifting of the sand. "Need help?" I asked him, not
reluctantly.

"What I need is a foundation," came his answer, the words bitten out in
frustration.

"According to the monitors," Almrid said icily, directing the insult at
Wolton, "there's all kinds of rock around here. Or, maybe not rock. Maybe it
once was buildings."

"Look, Almrid—" Wolton began.

Then, unexpectedly, Sumiko Hyasu cut in. "Leave him alone, Franz," she said
softly to Almrid. "We have work to do."

"It looks like you've wasted your trip, Peter," Almrid said to me, a certain
morose satisfaction in this statement. "Why don't you ride up tonight and
forget it? There are other planets."

I wondered if my disappointment showed so much.

"I think I'll stick around for a while," I said.