Читаем A Fall of Moondust полностью

He felt as if he were tightrope walking across an abyss, or feeling his way along a narrow path through a quaking quicksand. All his life he had been uncertain of himself, and had known security and confidence only through his technical skills—never at the level of personal relations. Now the hazards of his present position were reacting upon those inner fears. He felt a desperate need for solidity, for something firm and stable to which he could cling.

Over there were the mountains, only three kilometers away—massive, eternal, their roots anchored in the Moon. He looked at the sunlit sanctuary of those high peaks as longingly as some Pacific castaway, helpless upon a drifting raft, might have stared at an island passing just beyond his reach.

With all his heart, he wished that Lawrence would leave this treacherous, insubstantial ocean of dust for the safety of the land. “Head for the mountains!” he found himself whispering. “Head for the mountains!”

There is no privacy in a space suit—when the radio is switched on. Fifty meters away, Lawrence heard that whisper and knew exactly what it meant.

One does not become Chief Engineer for half a world without learning as much about men as about machines. I took a calculated risk, thought Lawrence , and it looks as if it hasn't come off. But I won't give in without a fight; perhaps I can still defuse this psychological time bomb before it goes off.

Tom never noticed the approach of the second ski; he was already too lost in his own nightmare. But suddenly he was being violently shaken, so violently that his forehead banged against the lower rim of his helmet. For a moment his vision was blinded by tears of pain; then, with anger—yet at the same time with an inexplicable feeling of relief—he found himself looking straight into the determined eyes of Chief Engineer Lawrence, and listening to his voice reverberate from the suit speakers.

“That's enough of this nonsense,” said the C. E. E. “And I'll trouble you not to be sick in one of our space suits. Every time that happens it costs us five hundred stollars to put it back into commission—and even then it's never quite the same again.”

“I wasn't going to be sick—” Tom managed to mutter. Then he realized that the truth was much worse, and felt grateful to Lawrence for his tact. Before he could add anything more, the other continued, speaking firmly but more gently: “No one else can hear us, Tom—we're on the suit circuit now. So listen to me, and don't get mad. I know a lot about you, and I know you've had a hell of a rough deal from life. But you've got a brain—a damn good brain—so don't waste it by behaving like a scared kid. Sure, we're all scared kids at some time or other, but this isn't the time for it. There are twenty-two lives depending on you. In five minutes, we'll settle this business one way or the other. So keep your eye on that screen, and forget about everything else. I'll get you out of here all right-don't you worry about that.”

Lawrence slapped the suit—gently, this time—without taking his eyes off the young scientist's stricken face. Then, with a vast feeling of relief, he saw Lawson slowly relax.

For a moment the astronomer sat quite motionless, obviously in full control of himself but apparently listening to some inner voice. What was it telling him? wondered Lawrence . Perhaps that he was part of mankind, even though it had condemned him to that unspeakable orphans' home when he was a child. Perhaps that, somewhere in the world, there might be a person who could care for him, and who would break through the ice that had encrusted his heart.

It was a strange little tableau, here on this mirror-smooth plain between the Mountains of Inaccessibility and the rising sun. Like ships becalmed on a dead and stagnant sea, Duster One and Duster Two floated side by side, their pilots playing no part in the conflict of wills that had just taken place, though they were dimly aware of it. No one watching from a distance could have guessed the issues that had been at stake, the lives and destinies that had trembled in the balance; and the two men involved would never talk of it again.

Indeed, they were already concerned with something else. For in the same instant, they had both become aware of a highly ironic situation.

All the time they had been standing there, so intent upon their own affairs that they had never looked at the screen of the infrared scanner, it had been patiently holding the picture they sought.

When Pat and Sue had completed their inventory and emerged from the air-lock galley, the passengers were still far back in Restoration England. Sir Isaac's brief physics lecture had been followed, as might easily have been predicted, by a considerably longer anatomy lesson from Nell Gwyn. The audience was thoroughly enjoying itself, especially as Barrett's English accent was now going full blast.