Dangerous Planet
CHAPTER 6
The crack formed during the impact was completely flooded with molten metal, and now not one creature could have penetrated inside. Thinking about it, Stan casually touched the body, which had not cooled down yet, and, with a gasp, immediately withdrew his hand.
"Heck!" he cursed, having sputtered a blister on his finger. "That was not enough," he grumbled and went around the temporary shelter. Stan did not think that someone else was hiding next door, but caution and forethought would not hurt. On the way, he made a ray of the blaster with all the cracks in the case, which only came across his eyes, and at the same time he burned out a thicket of some grass, among the spiny branches of which, probably, some creatures could hide. Now they were sheltered with Shirra by a rough, dark strip that was like the border separating them from this alien world. Of course, after the soil has cooled, it can easily be overcome, but Stan was so calm, and he, walking along the corridor back to Shirra, decided from time to time to update this border. At least the plants there will not grow until they leave this gorge. "Shirra, it's me," he warned before opening the door. "You would have seen what I turned into this creature," he said, trying to speak as cheerfully as he could, stepping inside and locking the door on the bolt. She was silent and looked frightened. With her pinched fingers, she squeezed the gun and, it seemed, would never let it go. "Shirra," Stan called to her. "Why are you silent?" But Shirra did not answer and kept silent. Stan walked slowly to her and touched her shoulder. "I killed her, and now you can hide the gun," he said, trying to squeeze her fingers. "Why did you leave me alone?!" Shirra shouted hysterically, hurling the gun at the wall and sobbing with her face in the pillow. "What are you talking ... Shirra?" Stan muttered in bewilderment, not really realizing what was happening to her. "I killed this creature, and we have nothing to fear anymore." He picked up the gun and carefully examined it. "Why did you leave me alone?!" through tears Shirra shouted. "What if she killed you?" What would I do alone? Here, among this strange forest? "She shrieked even louder, which caused Stan a complete confusion. For a few minutes he stamped on the spot, not knowing how to be, then decided to let her cry, and began to make sandwiches. Shooting and nervous tension caused him to feel hungry, and while Shirra complained to the pillow on her fate, decided to make up for the loss of calories. "And how can you only eat?" She exclaimed indignantly, tearing her tear-stained face for a moment from the pillow. - No! To reassure me! "But I said I killed her," Stan said quietly. "Do you think that's enough?" Shirra stopped crying and wiped her face wet with tears. "In my opinion, yes," muttered Stan, and again began to chew with displeasure. "Have you seen her?" Shirra asked in a somewhat conciliatory tone. "This?" Stan specified, nodding his head on the wall, where the frozen metal brooks could be seen. "Mgg," Shirra swung affirmatively on the bed and wiped her nose noisily. "What was it? Stan?" "A creature," Stan said, not very willingly. "I know that myself," Shirra interrupted, ready to turn the tantrum again. "Tell me, what was it like?" "How can I tell you?" Stan stopped chewing and for a few seconds thought. "Something long and very flexible," he finally answered. "And this tube?" she was on her back. "Do you think she's dangerous?" "I do not know," Stan fumbled in his teeth and, just in case, examined the walls of the compartment, "but I did not like the balls dropped from this tube." Have you seen how quickly they dissolve the cladding? "I saw." she shook her head affirmatively and asked her to give her one sandwich. "How tired they are to me," she said, frowning, and slowly began to eat. "Me too," Stan agreed. "But we have nothing else." "I know," Shirra wiggled her toes and noted with discontent how pain had returned to her foot. "We can not get out of here," she whispered desperately, and tears spilled out of her eyes again. "Stop it," Stan looked at her irritably and muttered something indistinctly to himself. "I'm silent." she wiped her eyes and tried to smile. The smile turned out to be sour, but Stan did not pay attention to it. He still kept thinking about the hunter and, before going to bed, decided to turn on the generator for a constant alarm. If the hunter is within a radius of one hundred kilometers, he must hear it and come to him. Should, but will it come? Stan did not know this. "What are you always thinking about?" a little calmed down, asked Shirra. "Do you think I have nothing to think about?" Stan questioned the question. "Sorry, Stan." she smiled and extended her hand as a sign of reconciliation, Stan just snorted at this and turned away. "Well, you know!" Shirra did not finish and pouted. Stan needed this, and he decided to take advantage of the established lull in order to develop all the details of the upcoming campaign to the rest of the wreckage of the ship. But Shirra, hardly carrying the silence, soon broke down and spoke again. "Stan, I need to get out," she said, scowling. "Where?" "Into the corridor." "Well, go," Stan answered inattentively. "But I'm afraid of one!" exclaimed Shirra, throwing an angry glance at him. "So what do you suggest?" interrupting his thoughts, he asked. "Come with me." for a moment hesitating, asked Shirra. "Well and how do you imagine all this?" Stan squinted, narrowing his eyes. "Should I hold you?" "You turn your back and wait until I .... Well, in general, you understand." "Did she say everything?" "Yes." Stan stared at her for a while, as if for the first time he saw, then rose, went to the door and pushed back the bolt. "Can you come by yourself or help?" "I do it myself." Shirra somehow stumbled past him into the corridor and turned left. "Maybe I'll stand here?" Stan asked, watching her stumble from time to time. "No!" exclaimed Shirra, turning quickly on one leg. "Suddenly creep out any creature?" her face turned pale, and Stan decided not to worry her again. "All right," he muttered, and turned his back on her. "Only in case of what I still do not have time to shoot." Can you hear me? The answer to it was some kind of fuss and the sound that followed, as if water had flowed from the tap. "Finished?" Stan asked when the renewed fuss died down. "Yes," Shirra answered and hobbled to him. But suddenly she stopped and stared at something that was on the floor. Stan quickly approached her and looked at her inquiringly. "It seemed to me as if something had begun to move," Shirra whispered, barely restraining herself from wanting to jump on his chest and clench her legs. "Where?" "There," Shirra nodded to one side, but Stan did not see anything except the broken chair. But, having looked more closely, he found that one side of a single leg barely noticeably trembled. "Come away," he said with restraint, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Without asking questions, Shirra hastily jumped off on one foot to the wall, and pressed her back to her. Stan, meanwhile, picked up a metal pin on the floor and gently touched them to a suspicious place on the leg of the chair. "Stan!" Shirra exclaimed, squeezing her back against the wall. "Shut up," Stan said, and once more, but more confidently touched the fact that he had clung to the metal leg. In the next instant, something dark and oblong separated from its smooth surface. It something has jumped Stan on a breast and has seized in a jacket. Dropping the metal pin, Stan jumped back and screamed at the top of his throat. Simultaneously with him, Shirra shrieked shrilly, which almost made him almost in his ears. But Stan did not notice. Furiously waving his arms and continuing to scream, he knocked the attached creature off the jacket and only then remembered that all this time he was holding a blaster in his hand. "Devil, devil!" he breathed, feeling like a weakness in his legs, now falls to the floor. Why he was so scared, and he did not know. After all, a green mat or that creature with a pipe on its back did not make such an impression on him as this unprepossessing chameleon whom he had to consider did not really have time. "Shirra, stop yelling!" he turned to the poor girl, who, covering her face with her hands, continued to squeal. Shirra closed her mouth like a command and looked down at his jacket. There was nothing there. "Stan, did not it bite you?" she asked in a trembling voice, still not daring to leave her seat. "Oh no, I guess." Stan found the ability to speak, and began to search for the creature that so suddenly jumped at him. "Have you seen where it went?" Shirra, I'm talking to you. "No, Stan," Shirra finally found the strength to tear herself away from the wall, and clung to his sleeve. "Let's get out of here: you still can not find him," she murmured, trembling all over. Shirra was right, but Stan did not want to leave, knowing that somewhere here this and, possibly, other creatures hide. But, in the end, he stopped his unsuccessful search and, seeing in what state Shirra, returned with her into the compartment. "Hmmm," he drawled after the door was again bolted, and Shirra lay in her bed. - I'll probably have to stop your adventures in the corridor. And then something else hangs to that very place ..." Stan did not finish and smiled sadly. Shirra generally did not say anything and did not pay attention to his joke. She thought that with each hour spent on this planet, someone else's life was getting closer to them and soon, probably, they would doubt them in this metal box. This thought was terrible, and Shirra desperately wanted to howl or shoot the whole clip of his gun. But she did neither. Biting her lip, she fell face down on the bed and stared blankly at the way Stan examined the weapons. She had no thoughts in her head, and she only wanted one thing so that Stan would not be silent, but spoke to her. But Stan, busy with his own affairs, did not pay attention to it, continued to inspect the weapon, and when he had finished with this case, he began to take control of the hunter. If he does not return to him, then he and Shirra on this planet have a lid. He himself, perhaps, would have got out, but with Shirra and her aching leg ... No. In this Stan was almost firmly convinced. After inspecting the control buttons for the portable generator, Stan furtively glanced at Shirra and found with the greatest relief that she had fallen asleep and, apparently, was sleeping soundly. Trying not to wake her, Stan turned on the control unit for a constant signal and decided to take a nap himself. Putting a blaster next to him, Stan closed his eyes and, pulling packing material on his head, tried to disconnect from all problems. He succeeded, and soon he fell asleep too...
| |
|
| |
| Views: 129 | | |
| Total comments: 0 | |