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Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html I assure you that I am doing the very best that I can! At the moment Masurathoo was wishing for more than his two arms. Nothing is responding properly. It is as if, I am remorseful to say, control of our craft has been taken over by an outside source. Override it! Jemunu-jah stared helplessly at the bank of instruments. Though he could not pilot one himself, he knew that flying a skimmer was not as complicated as operating certain other Commonwealth machinery. It was designed to be easy to operate. What was the problem? Why was the stupid Deyzara letting this happen? It served him right for placing his life in the hands of one of the two-trunks! The fact that if they crashed Masurathoo might also die was not allowed to intrude on this line of reasoning. Crash they did, snapping off branches and smashing through small trees before coming to rest alongside the same craft they had been sent out to find. Water erupted in every direction, scattering all manner of small life-forms. As the skimmer began to settle, Masurathoo leapt from the pilot s seat (which is to say he extricated himself as rapidly as was possible for one of his kind to do so) and began grabbing food paks and other items from an emergency locker. Stunned by the sudden turn in their fortunes, a dazed Jemunu-jah joined him. As if in a dream, their mortally wounded craft began to slowly sink into the depths of the Viisiiviisii. Though Fluva was in the first third of the Big Wet, there was still twenty to thirty meters of water under their vehicle, which was not designed to cope with an extended period of submersion. As Masurathoo threw the emergency release and several portions of the canopy slid aside, Jemunu-jah found all his childhood fears of being trapped in the water flooding in on him. This way. Hurry, please! It was not so much that Masurathoo was desperate to save his Sakuntala companion as he was fearful of being caught alone out in the Viisiiviisii. Jemunu-jah snapped out of his reverie long enough to grab some gear of his own. Shoving the compact food containers into the storage pouches that hung from his waist and chest straps, he sprang clear of the subsiding skimmer, easily passing the less athletic Deyzara in the process. Pausing on a lower half-submerged branch, Jemunu-jah reached back to help his companion to safety. Together they stood there in the rain watching as the skimmer sank beneath the surface. Loud bubbles constituted its only tombstone. What happened? Standing in the rain in now sodden bright wraps of fabric, clutching a couple of food paks in one two-digited hand and a small pistol in the other, a despondent Masurathoo gazed blankly at the spot where the skimmer had been swallowed by the Viisiiviisii. What could I possibly have done wrong? Jemunu-jah paid little attention to the Deyzara s mumblings. As soon as they had emerged from the skimmer, old instincts had taken over. His sharp eyes were scanning their immediate surroundings, looking for any sign of the numerous and resourceful predators that stalked the flooded forest. I don t know you do anything wrong, two-trunk. But I do know we stand here very long on this place by the water surface where so much disturbance occur, we quick-soon have nothing to worry about except how fast something else can digest us. He glanced upward. We have to get higher. Up away from water. Eyeing a suitable branch, he swung himself upward. With a resigned sigh, Masurathoo moved to follow. Everything Jemunu-jah accomplished with ease was a struggle for the Deyzara. But he persisted. His kind had determination, if not physical ability. Several times, Jemunu-jah waited for his companion to catch up. Occasionally, shaking his head in disbelief at the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html typical inherent Deyzara clumsiness and lack of athleticism, Jemunu-jah reached down and back to help him. Eventually they reached a sheltered place beneath a brace of saminio leaves that were growing close enough together to give them some shelter from the steady downpour. Not that Jemunu-jah needed it. His kind were as comfortable out in the rain as they were inside a house. Masurathoo, however, was inordinately grateful. I am so very terribly sorry to have let you down like this. Drenched and hunched over in his colorfast wraps, he looked thoroughly miserable. His speaking trunk drooped down over his face, blocking one of his eyes the physical equivalent of a whisper. We don t know it at all your fault. Without quite knowing why, Jemunu-jah found himself inclined to be forgiving. Maybe something fail seriously within skimmer s controllers. Certainly it did. His speaking trunk rising as his eating trunk sucked up a casual drink from a small puddle in a hollow on the branch, Masurathoo eyed his indigenous companion. But I am puzzled and concerned as to how and why it should have done so just as we made contact with the one we were sent to find. Speaking of that contact, Jemunu-jah added as he turned his attention back to the falling rain and the wild, wet Viisiiviisii in which they now found themselves stranded, I wonder if anyone survive here for us to rescue? His answer came in the form of a solid blow to the lower portion of his back, just above the tail. As he fell forward and reached out to grab something to keep himself from plunging through to the water below, he caught a glimpse of the solid, fast-moving shape that had struck from above. Masurathoo s lack of a scream was instructive as was Jemunu-jah s first sight of the creature that had surprised him. Landing lithely on both feet, the human kept the majority of his attention focused on the more dangerous Sakuntala while not neglecting to monitor the movements of the startled Deyzara. As Jemunu-jah rolled over, back aching, he found himself gazing down the barrel of a surprisingly large handgun. Occasionally the muzzle would shift to cover the motionless Masurathoo. Most of the time, however, it was aimed in the Sakuntala s direction. The human s stance was tense, Jemunu-jah noted, and beneath the hood of the rain cape he wore his small but efficient eyes were in constant motion. The big, muscular male was clearly very unhappy with something. Well, Jemunu-jah mused, in that he had company. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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