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.We weren't in any hurry, and while we exchanged afew innocuous and irrelevant remarks some fifteen or twenty minutes crept by.I would have beenmoderately content, in fact, to stay on board for the duration.We need our terra firma, of course - asI've said - but we prefer it accompanied by air and sky and sunlight.I heard the inner lock swing shut with an unusually loud thump.I presumed, of course, that somebodywas getting out.But a few seconds later, an anonymous figure in a surface-suit scrambled into the cabinwith an indecent amount of haste.He was waving a gun.At first I thought it was Johnny, because he was the only person I knew who habitually waved guns forno good reason.Then I realised that it wasn't one of our suits, and I knew we'd been jumped.I couldn't see his face because of the black glass visor in his helmet, but I could imagine him watching melike a hawk.All-seeing and predatory.He pointed the gun at me and said, 'Get out of the chair.' Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlStrangely enough, that order made me feel better.No spaceman would refer to the cradle as a 'chair'.Ergo, I conclusion-jumped, he hadn't come to steal my ship.It was me he wanted.I disentangled myself from the straps, and stood clear of the cradle.'Right,' he said.'Now, one at a time, get down the ladder.Put your suits on slowly.'The others were already being shipped through the lock, two at a time.There was another heavy with agun at the bottom of the ladder.They had already seized such of our armoury as was accessible withoutgrubbing in the hold.Eve and I donned our suits with dramatic care.Remembering what conditions onthe world were liable to be like I took a flashlight and secured it inside the suit.The gunman didn't object.I was the last to leave.One gunman went out with Eve, the other with me.There was a third waitingoutside, and that was all.They had apparently been given no trouble at all.I was very grateful that Johnnyhadn't been inspired by our numerical superiority to put up a fight.The Hooded Swan wasn't a big ship,as starships go, and with seven passengers, five crew and three gunmen aboard she was distinctlyovercrowded.The consequences of a beam battle in a sardine can are dreadful to contemplate.We were escorted across the surface of Rhapsody away from the Swan.They didn't leave anyone onboard, and they permitted Nick to secure the lock against potential invaders.I'd put us down in the twilight zone, at the required latitude, within a couple of hundred yards of thesurface-lock which gave access to the principal warren.The pinpoint accuracy was a great complimentto my piloting, but no one expressed gratitude that we didn't have far to walk.The surface was alldust-drifts and rock-jags, and wasn't suitable for strolling in the evening, but we had no difficulty inobeying the instructions which our captors sent over the open call circuit.They marched us in Indian fileto the vast lock, which gave us access to the capital.I looked around briefly, and caught sight of oneother ship - presumably the Star Cross ramrod - a couple of miles away towards daylight.We were permitted to de-suit in the reception area under the lock.I was allowed to retain the flashlight,but not to remove any of the other potentially useful things that were secreted in the suit, under the guiseof standard equipment.(Like, for instance, food concentrates and the emergency bleep.)We were now privileged to clap eyes on our captors for the first time, while they crammed us into ahand-operated hoist.The heavy mob looks the same the universe over.They have never really escaped the influence of theclichés laid down by the earnest exponents of the art of strong-arming.They always have big shouldersand slack features, and a casual swing to their movements deliberately styled to suggest that they can -and maybe do - bend iron bars between their fingers.Our welcoming committee was trying hard - ifsubconsciously - to give this overall impression, but they weren't very good at it.Gangsters may be bornor made, but these men had had gangsterism thrust upon them.They looked as if they'd rather bepecking away at a rock face, and that was probably their normal occupation.'What the hell goes on?' asked Nick, while the hoist descended noisily.It was Charlot's picnic, ofcourse, but Charlot hadn't bothered to protest or demand to be taken to their leader, so perhaps Nickthought it was up to him to expel some hot air.Mavra and company seemed to take the whole affair veryfatalistically.'Shut up,' said one of the gunmen bravely. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlThere's no need to add insult to injury,' I remarked.'Shut up,' he said again.He obviously didn't feel up to explaining the situation.A man of action.'As a matter of simple curiosity,' said Charlot oilily, 'are you institutionalised or free-lance?'No answer.I rephrased the question for them.'He means, are you the regular cops or did you just take up thehabit?'Still no answer [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]
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.We weren't in any hurry, and while we exchanged afew innocuous and irrelevant remarks some fifteen or twenty minutes crept by.I would have beenmoderately content, in fact, to stay on board for the duration.We need our terra firma, of course - asI've said - but we prefer it accompanied by air and sky and sunlight.I heard the inner lock swing shut with an unusually loud thump.I presumed, of course, that somebodywas getting out.But a few seconds later, an anonymous figure in a surface-suit scrambled into the cabinwith an indecent amount of haste.He was waving a gun.At first I thought it was Johnny, because he was the only person I knew who habitually waved guns forno good reason.Then I realised that it wasn't one of our suits, and I knew we'd been jumped.I couldn't see his face because of the black glass visor in his helmet, but I could imagine him watching melike a hawk.All-seeing and predatory.He pointed the gun at me and said, 'Get out of the chair.' Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlStrangely enough, that order made me feel better.No spaceman would refer to the cradle as a 'chair'.Ergo, I conclusion-jumped, he hadn't come to steal my ship.It was me he wanted.I disentangled myself from the straps, and stood clear of the cradle.'Right,' he said.'Now, one at a time, get down the ladder.Put your suits on slowly.'The others were already being shipped through the lock, two at a time.There was another heavy with agun at the bottom of the ladder.They had already seized such of our armoury as was accessible withoutgrubbing in the hold.Eve and I donned our suits with dramatic care.Remembering what conditions onthe world were liable to be like I took a flashlight and secured it inside the suit.The gunman didn't object.I was the last to leave.One gunman went out with Eve, the other with me.There was a third waitingoutside, and that was all.They had apparently been given no trouble at all.I was very grateful that Johnnyhadn't been inspired by our numerical superiority to put up a fight.The Hooded Swan wasn't a big ship,as starships go, and with seven passengers, five crew and three gunmen aboard she was distinctlyovercrowded.The consequences of a beam battle in a sardine can are dreadful to contemplate.We were escorted across the surface of Rhapsody away from the Swan.They didn't leave anyone onboard, and they permitted Nick to secure the lock against potential invaders.I'd put us down in the twilight zone, at the required latitude, within a couple of hundred yards of thesurface-lock which gave access to the principal warren.The pinpoint accuracy was a great complimentto my piloting, but no one expressed gratitude that we didn't have far to walk.The surface was alldust-drifts and rock-jags, and wasn't suitable for strolling in the evening, but we had no difficulty inobeying the instructions which our captors sent over the open call circuit.They marched us in Indian fileto the vast lock, which gave us access to the capital.I looked around briefly, and caught sight of oneother ship - presumably the Star Cross ramrod - a couple of miles away towards daylight.We were permitted to de-suit in the reception area under the lock.I was allowed to retain the flashlight,but not to remove any of the other potentially useful things that were secreted in the suit, under the guiseof standard equipment.(Like, for instance, food concentrates and the emergency bleep.)We were now privileged to clap eyes on our captors for the first time, while they crammed us into ahand-operated hoist.The heavy mob looks the same the universe over.They have never really escaped the influence of theclichés laid down by the earnest exponents of the art of strong-arming.They always have big shouldersand slack features, and a casual swing to their movements deliberately styled to suggest that they can -and maybe do - bend iron bars between their fingers.Our welcoming committee was trying hard - ifsubconsciously - to give this overall impression, but they weren't very good at it.Gangsters may be bornor made, but these men had had gangsterism thrust upon them.They looked as if they'd rather bepecking away at a rock face, and that was probably their normal occupation.'What the hell goes on?' asked Nick, while the hoist descended noisily.It was Charlot's picnic, ofcourse, but Charlot hadn't bothered to protest or demand to be taken to their leader, so perhaps Nickthought it was up to him to expel some hot air.Mavra and company seemed to take the whole affair veryfatalistically.'Shut up,' said one of the gunmen bravely. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlThere's no need to add insult to injury,' I remarked.'Shut up,' he said again.He obviously didn't feel up to explaining the situation.A man of action.'As a matter of simple curiosity,' said Charlot oilily, 'are you institutionalised or free-lance?'No answer.I rephrased the question for them.'He means, are you the regular cops or did you just take up thehabit?'Still no answer [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]