"Brian Daley "Han Solo at Stars' End"" - читать интересную книгу автора

They could hear the tread of cleated boots in the corridor. With Blue Max still tucked under his arm, Chewbacca jumped into the drop chute, too. Han held back long enough to fire at the blaster cannon from its unshielded side. There was a bright eruption as its power pack began to overload. Hah spun and dived headlong down the shaft, as Torm had invited him to do. Behind, he heard the explosion of the portable cannon.
They plunged down, in varying postures and atti-tudes, strung out behind Rekkon in a ragged line. Craning their heads upward, they waited nervously for the first blaster bolt to come raving down the chute, but none did. Han decided that the Espos had been delayed by the exploding cannon. He hoped it would take them awhile to figure out that the drop chute was on, but feared that any moment would bring the stomach-wrenching fall, once the field was shut down again, that would plunge him, Chewie-aU of them-to their deaths.
They descended all the way to the garage levels. Rekkon left the chute at last, beckoning them to do the same. They found themselves standing in a large parking area as alarms sounded off in the distance. "I thought there would be a flyer of some sort here," Rekkon said sourly; "worse luck."
"We're not going back into that chute, and that's that," Hah stated.
"There's a ground skimmer. Let's take it," Atuarre suggested. They piled in, with Han taking the controls and Rekkon next to him. Chewbacca sat back in the cargo bed with the others, keeping his back to his partner and his eyes on the others as he fit a new magazine into his bowcaster. Before the Wookiee could take time to return Max to Bollux's chest, Hah had thrown the skimmer into motion and shot away, barely making the turn onto the up-ramp, scarcely avoiding the wall.
He kept the control stem's steering grips pushed for-ward, giving the skimmer all the acceleration she could safely stand and a good deal more. The ramp went by in a wild corkscrewing of Formex, the walls whirling past the skimmer's front cowling at hair-raising speed. Rekkon saw at once the wisdom of yielding the controls to the younger man.
Hah hoped that nobody had gotten around to seal-ing off the computer complex yet, and they hadn't. The security network was inundated with everything from reports of insurrection to drunk-and-disorderly calls from the executives' club, spread across the Cen-ter and the face of Orron III. The skimmer left the garage like a missile out of a launch tube. In his haste, Hah had departed through a door clearly marked E's-XgnNCV.. A traffic-monitoring scanner dutifully logged the skimmer's license number for a citation and man-datory court appearance.
The skimmer tore through the city, guided partly by Rekkon's instructions and partly by Han's instinctsи Han left the city's edge behind in a blur, drilling a hole through the air down the fusion-formed road, as other traffic dodged and skidded hysterically away from him. He was glad he'd taken the time to orient himself on the spaceport while in Rekkon's office. Since its cab was open, the wind plucked and tugged hard at everyone on the skimmer, ruffling hair, fur, and clothing alike, making conversation impossible as the passengers braced however and wherever they could.
But rounding a turn in the last stretch approaching the spaceport, Han discovered that somebody some-where in the bureaucracy had actually done a bit of thinking. The skimmer nearly crashed head-on into a roadblock, an Espo troop-hovervan parked across the roadway, its twin-mounted guns nosing for a target. Hall jerked the controls hard, kicking the foot aux-iliaries, and sent his small vehicle sailing off the road's surface. The engine sang with effort; the low-built skimmer slammed down among the rippling grain and raced off through it erratically. The tall grain, an Arcon Multinode hybrid, was so high that it instantly swallowed them up, hiding them from the startled Espos. But Hah zigzagged anyway, for luck, and sure enough, the Espos fired even though they had no clear target, most probably from sheer frustration. The troop-hovervan was a ground-effect vehicle, una-ble to climb above the field, Han knew. That meant that if his pursuers wanted to give chase, they'd have to eat a little cereal themselves.
He had to stand up, poking his head above the windscreen as he drove, in a mostly unsuccessful at-tempt to see where he was going. The skimmer sliced through thick rows of hybrid grain, sending a spray of mangled plants and chaff back over and around it. Han slitted his eyes and tried to peer through the hurricane of vegetable matter as best he could, which wasn't very well. In moments, all of the skimmer's grillwork and trim was decked with stalks of grain that had gotten lodged there, and the craft looked like a strange agricultural float.
Chewbacca, standing and exhorting, reached for-ward over his partner's shoulder and pointed. Han, asking no questions, changed course. He had to steer hard to slide past the hazard, a mountain of yellow metal, one of the enormous automated farm machines slowly and patiently working this part of Orton III's limitless fields.
Hah broke out onto bare ground, reaped clean by the harvester. He conned the skimmer around in a wide are, got his bearings on the spaceport and the ranked colossi of the berthed barges, and hotted off that way.
At that moment the Espo hovervan broke through, too, but farther down the field, away from the space-port. Hah couldn't take time to watch it; instead he tried to throw enough twists and dodges into his course to keep them out of the Espo gunner's sights. Heavy blaster salvos scored around the skimmer, starting small fires smoldering among the stubble of shorn stalks.
Han took the skimmer through a hairpin turn, try-ing to jump out of the line of fire, but the hovervan's twin-mounted guns scored closer and closer to star-board, making the shaven field erupt. He jammed the control stem back to port. But the Espo gunner, trying for a bracketing salvo, had outguessed him. The ground blew apart just beyond the skiminer's under-carriage.
The skimmer jarred violently, its nose plowing at the rich soil, crumpling, as the engine cowling was smashed and compressed. Smoke rolled from its engine compartment, and the little craft grounded, carving long scars in the crop-stubble.
Han, fighting to keep control, lost his grip on the control stem at the last moment, clipped his head on the windscreen, and was flung clear of the cab as it stopped short, ending up on his back. He watched the sky of Orton III, which appeared to be spinning, and wondered if his entire skeleton had actually been turned into confetti. That was just how he felt.
"Everybody off," he announced wooz'fiy; "baggage claim to your left."
The others tumbled off the wrecked skimmer. Han found himself being lifted as easily as a child; Rek-kon's dark fists were hoisting him by his vest. He was pleased to find himself more or less whole. "Run for the spaceport fence!" Rekkon ordered the others. The whine of the Espo hovervan grew in the distance.
Han shook off the fall. The hovervan was closing quickly. Rekkon pulled him down into the shelter of the skimmer's nose and began working at the adjust-merits of his oversized disrupter pistol. Hah drew his blaster. "Chewie, get 'em moving," he called.
The vociferous Wookiee, still lugging Blue Max in one arm, shoved or shouted the others into motion. Atuarre and Pakka sped away, the Trianii female half dragging her cub, haft carrying him, with Torre not far behind. Even Bollux moved at top speed in long, jarring bounds made possible by his heavy-duty sus-pension system, disregarding the damage he might do his gyros and shock absorbers. Chewbacca came last, casting frequent glances over his shoulder. Before them rose another stand of grain, being reaped by an-other of the giant machines, and past that was the spaceport security fence.
Han felt a warm liquidity on his forehead, swiped at it, and saw blood on his fingers, courtesy of the skimmer's windscreen. Rekkon, having finished adjust-ing his disrupter, was waiting for the hovervan to come into range, which it was doing with frightening speed.
The hovervan driver, watching the figures running for the fence, failed to notice the two men hiding be-hind the disabled vehicle. When the Espo was close enough, Rekkon, forearms braced across the skim-mer's nose, fired. He'd set his disrupter on overload, and now the powerful handgun emptied itself in a brief flood of ruinous energy. Han had to shield his face from it, thinking what a chance Rekkon was tak-ing; the disrupter could just as easily have blown up in his hands, killing both men.
But the jet of disrupter fire splashed across the hov-ervan's cowling and windshield. The Espo craft slid side-on, spun once, and planed into the ground, plow-hag up a mound of soil before it.
Han, lowering his hands, saw that the barrel of Rekkon's pistol was white-hot, and the scholar's face was sweating and seared. Rekkon tossed aside the use-less pistol. "You must've taught in some tough damn schools," was Han's only comment as he struggled to his feet, preparing to run again.
Rekkon, watching the overturned hovervan, didn't hear. Body-armored Espos were already stumbling from it, to continue the pursuit on foot. The twin-gun mount, twisted underneath the vehicle, was useless. Rekkon, backing away a step or two, said, "The mo-ment has come for our departure, Captain Solo!"
Han pegged a couple of shots at the Espos. The range was long, but they still hit the dirt. Then he put his head down and pounded off behind Rekkon, won-dering if the Espos could get into range before the fugitives made the fence and somehow got over, un-der, or through it. All things considered, the smart money appeared to be with the Espos, he conceded.
For long moments all he did was race after Rek-kon's flying sandals and wait for a blaster bolt to fry his shoulder blades. Then he raised his head, gulping breath. The monstrous harvester was working its way back down the rows of grain, its gaping maw cutting down a swatch twenty meters wide, pouring the grain into a tandem load-carrier. Hah and Rekkon cut wide around it, and Hah scanned the terrain in front of him. He spotted figures thrashing through the stalks, but could make none of them out.
A shot kicked up dirt and flame off to the left, proof that the Espos were gaining. Hah and Rekkon dodged right, to put the enormous agrirobot between them-selves and their pursuers. Then they were shoving, running, tearing through a world of golden-red stalks, occasionally spying one of their companions in the dis-tahoe.
Han dug his heels in, sliding to a stop. Rekkon, who'd come abreast of him, caught the movement and halted, too. Both of them panted hard, as Han de-manded, "Where's Chewie?"
"Ahead of us, to the side; who can tell in this field?" "He's not. He's the only one who'd be easy to spot, even here." Hah straightened, his side aching. "That means he's back there? He shagged back the way he'd come, ignoring Rekkon's cries.
When he broke into the open again, he saw at once what had happened. Chewbacca had realized the Espos stood a good chance of overtaking his compan-ions before they could make it to the spaceport and get past the fence. Some major distraction had been needed to save all their lives, and so the Wooldee had paused to set one up.
As Hah cried out for him to come back, Chew-bacca, his bowcaster slung over his shoulder and Blue Max under his long arm, pulled himself up the side of the giant harvester as the machine went on its pro-programmed way. The harvester had already borne the Wooldee most of the way back toward the Espos. He finished climbing the last few feet, reaching the top of the agrirobot, where its control center was situ-ated.
Chewbacca began tugging and heaving at the pro-tective cover over the controls. It was a durable in-dustrial design and resisted him. Han and Rekkon watched as Chewbacca seated himself for better lever-age, then applied all his strength in a tremendous ef-fort. The cover popped loose, and the Wooldee threw it aside. He began working furiously, uncoupling hook-ups and moving components around in order to make room for Blue Max. There was no way he could hear Han's hoarse shouts over the noise of the harvester, and the distance, and no way could the Wooldee see, from his position, the three Espos who had managed to catch hold of one of the maintenance ladders and clamber after him.
Han was too far away to shoot. The Espos swarmed quickly upward. The huge harvester gave a lurch, then went through a series of disturbed tremors as Blue Max usurped control of it and tried his touch. Just as the Espos, having worked their way to the top of the ladder, leveled their weapons at Chewbacca's spine, the harvester gave the most violent shudder of all.
One Espo nearly fell, and must have yelled, be-cause the Wooldee's head snapped around just as the three crouched to keep from being dislodged. Chew-bacca's bowcaster shot exploded against one man's chest, flinging him backward to roll off the harvester's side. But in turning and firing, Chewbacca had lost his own balance. The harvester went into a sharp turn, and the Wooldee had to make a desperate lunge to catch hold of a stanchion. He managed to do it but lost hold of his bowcaster.
"Chewiel" Hahn bawled, starting back, but Rekkon's big hand closed around his shoulder, holding him res-olutely.
"You can't get to him now," the scholar shouted, and that seemed certain. More Espos were closing in around the slow-moving harvester.
Chewbacca, unarmed, got his feet back under him and threw himself at the two remaining Espos before they could recover. He gathered one in a lethal hug, kicking the second, before either man could raise his weapon. But the second man somehow managed to cling to the Wookiee's leg, and held on for his life.
Blue Max now had the harvester under control, that much was clear. He pivoted the machine, attempting to swallow an entire squad of Espos. But, using the harvester's primitive guidance system, Max was un-aware of the Wookiee's predicament. The pivot dis-lodged Chewbacca and the two Espos. They fell, limbs gyrating, and the Wookiee somehow managed to land on top. But it was still a long drop, and before the stunned humanoid could rise, he was buried under a pile of rifle-swinging Espos.
Han, struggling to get loose of Rekkon's grip, felt himself shaken until his teeth rattled. Rekkon im-plored, "There are dozens of them! You have no hope. Better to live, and stay free, to help the Wook-lee later!"
Hah spun, pulling his blaster. "Hands off. I mean it."
Rekkon saw by his eyes that he did indeed; Han would kill anyone who stood between himself and Chewbacca. The broad black hands fell away. Gun in hand, Hah went off toward the mass of Espos.
He couldn't tell just how Rekkon hit him then. Han's whole spinal column seemed to light up, and a blinding paralysis descended on him. Perhaps it was a nerve-punch, or a blow to a spot selected for its hydro-static shock value. In any case, Han dropped like an unstrung puppet.
The harvester, moving much more quickly now, circled back at the Espos. They fired on it, but the giant machine, an uncomplicated device, was difficult to stop with small-arms fire. Unimportant pieces of plating and cutter blade were shot away, but the har-vester ground on. Several Espos, failing to move quickly enough in the thick grain, vanished into its cavernous mouth.
Max had finally seen Chewbacca's predicament and moved in to give the Wookiee an opportunity to jump back aboard. But Chewbacca, his arms and legs dan-gling limply, was now being rushed away by a squad of Espos. Max couldn't go after them for fear of injur-ing Chewbacca with the clumsy harvester. Moreover, the Espos' fire was becoming more concentrated. Blue Max wished desperately that Bollux were there to tell him what to do; the computer didn't feel that he'd been operative long enough to make decisions like this one. But with no other apparent option, Max recog-nized that he must go join the others. He headed the ponderous harvester around, cut out its speed gover-nor, and gunned it for all it was worth.
Han only dimly felt Rekkon hoist him up on one shoulder; he could hardly focus his eyes. But as Max came past, Rekkon took a pair of wide steps, pro-pelled himself into the air, and caught a foothold at the harvester's side. He pulled himself up a short lad-der and deposited Hah on a narrow catwalk. Some-how, Han managed to lift his head. He could make out, through the machine's rough ride and the dis-tance, the knot of Espos bearing his friend away, a prisoner.
Han dawed at the metal under him, to throw him-self off the machine, to go back. Rekkon was on him instantly, pinning his arms with a strength and an in-tensity that were frightening. "He's my friendl" Hah grimaced, writhing.
Rekkon shook him once more, with more emphasis than violence. "Then help your ]riend.t" urged the rich basso voice. "Face hard fact: you must save your-self to save him, and not throw both lives away!"
The giant, imprisoning strength retreated and Han was left enervated, knowing Rekkon was right. Hold-ing the catwalk railing, he stopped staring at the in-distinguishable specks of Chewbacca and the Espos.
"Ahh." He lowered his eyes disconsolately.