Dangerous Planet
CHAPTER 7
At night an event occurred that markedly raised Stan's mood, and almost led to a new disaster. About two o'clock in the morning, when Stan and Shirra were fast asleep, the hunter returned! After making a hole in the wall, he grabbed the uneven edge with his limbs and silently pulled his strange body into the compartment. After sitting motionless for several minutes, he scattered his eyes on his back and cautiously made his way to Stan, who was sleeping on the floor near the bed of Shirra. Feeling his face sticking out from somewhere a proboscis, the hunter pulled his head, eyes, limbs and trunk, and settled himself on his leg.
All this would end peacefully and calmly, if Shirra had not woken up. For a few seconds she looked sleepily at the hunter, then gave a shrill scream, from which Stan jumped up, like a half-witted man, and, without hesitation, pushed a blaster into the door. He could not restrain himself on his leg, fell to the floor and again tried to climb on the box. Shirra, who kept screaming and poking at him with her finger, snatched the pistol and fired it several times in a row. "Stop it!" Stan shouted, finally understanding what was going on. "This is it, Stan, it is!" "Shirra shouted stutteringly ignoring him. Cursing, Stan knocked a pistol from her hand and quickly bent down to the hunter, who was shot down from the box and shot his eyes, lying next to him. "Stupid, it's a hunter!" Stan cried angrily, almost stopping her on the face. But she was already herself, realizing what she had done, apologizing saying something about her fright and her nerves, which were at the limit. "Yes, I wanted to spit on your nerves!" Stan exploded, spitting in all directions. "Hunter himself found me, and you shot him!" A ….What can I say to you?" Stan waved his hand and sat down next to the hunter, whose body could see several holes. "Hunter, you can hear me," Stan said in a trembling voice and laid his hand on his shapeless body. At the same instant, the hunter's eyes got on his back, and the wounds from the shots slowly began to tighten. "He's alive!" Stan cried joyfully nothing else, however, did not expect. "Oh, Lord," Shirra breathed in relief, and clasped her hands over the head. And at that moment the hunter struck a telepathic blow. Shirra with an unsuspecting unseen force suddenly ripped out of bed and flung her to the ceiling. Then the hunter threw it on the wall, and so there she remained, pulling her hands and feet. "Stan, what is this?" Shirra shouted hysterically. "Do something! Shirra put her hands behind her back and tried to push herself away from the wall. But the hunter, increasing his power, almost squashed her. "I'm doing!" Stan shouted and, grabbing the control unit, began feverishly pressing the buttons. But the hunter did not obey and continued to hurl Shirra as soon as he pleased. Stan sat helplessly on the floor and silently watched as Shirra flies from one wall to another with screams and squeals. Finally, the moment came when the hunter was tired of this amusement and, believing, apparently, that he had avenged the shocks caused by Shirra's shots, sharply removed the field, and Shirra with a thunderous cry fell from under the ceiling to a pile of boxes. At the same moment Stan jumped on it and covered it with his body. But it was superfluous. The hunter did not intend to kill her. Mumbling something to himself, Stan himself did not remember exactly what, he pulled Shirra from the crumpled boxes and carried him to the bed. Then I poured a little tonic into her mouth and patted her cheeks. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "He almost killed me," she whispered, writhing with pain and licking the blood from her broken lip. "Shut up," Stan ordered, and quickly examined her. Fracture, fortunately, was not only a few bruises and bruises. "You got off lightly," he muttered, glancing at the hunter, who, at last, climbed onto the box from under the foodstuffs and clicked his mouth littered with small teeth. "He'll kill me," Shirra complained, and, trembling, turned her head to the hunter. "Think about him well," Stan ordered, and held out his hand to the hunter. One of the three eyes of the mysterious creature moved closer and, as if examining Stan's hand from all sides, returned back on his back. "He recognized you," Shirra said hesitating, barely concealing the horror of the hunter, who nearly killed her because of an unfortunate misunderstanding. "Yes," Stan said excitedly and taking a breath. "If it was different, he would have already smeared us on the walls for a long time." "And if he does not obey you what then?" Shirra asked, not wanting to even think about what, for example, she was waiting for in this case. "It will," Stan said, not quite confident. "True, something has been happening to the hunter recently, but I think it will pass." He picked up the control unit on the floor and put it in his pocket. It seems that the hunter, for unknown reasons, has ceased to obey the signals of the generator and count on them, apparently, is no longer worth it. It was a bit of a scare of Stan, but in the end, he came to the conclusion that the hunter does not personally touch him, and there's nothing to worry about. "Oh, Lord," Shirra said with a sigh, pulling the veil up to her chin. "Now I can not sleep until the morning." "Me too," Stan confessed and looked at the hunter with concern. He again gave no sign of life and even hid all three eyes. Assuming that Stan was aware of the habits of this strange creature, it turned out that the hunter has already calmed down and, so to speak, is asleep. "Where's my gun?" Shirra asked, still wrinkling with pain. Stan found the weapon silently and handed it to her. "You feel good, "he asked, just in case. "How do I know," Shirra replied irritably. "Okay, calm down." Stan scratched the back of his head and looked absent-mindedly at the hunter, who, while he was looking for the gun, climbed inside a box and apparently found a good place there. "It's time to sleep," Stan said firmly, waving his hand and everything. "It's good for you to talk," Shirra complained with a sigh. "And if he is again?" "Come on," Stan pulled a veil over his head and turned his back to her. Personally, he did not give a damn about everything: on the returning hunter, and on what he had done here... * * * Stan wanted to sleep, and that's all it said. Shirra if she so wants can sit at least until the morning. But Stan did not have time to fall asleep. As soon as he began to doze, the hunter, without getting out of the box, struck a telepathic blow at the place where he had made a hole in the wall. When Stan, swearing and stumbling over the box, hurried to the wall, he saw the remains of some creature, smeared around an uneven hole. Survived only a flexible tube similar to the one that had already once tried to get to them in the compartment. "Gee," muttered Stan, and began brewing the hole with the blaster. When he had finished, he returned to his place and tried to sleep. As for the hunter, then, leaving one of his three eyes near the crushed creature, he returned to Stan and, touching his leg with a thin limb, as if making sure he was this or not, climbed into a box and turned into a shapeless lump. Tired and numb, Stan mumbled something for a while, then fell silent and soon fell asleep. This night was difficult for him. A week has passed. By this time Shirra's leg was not hurting so much, and she was hovering along the corridor of the ship with a help of Stan made by the crutch. And even among the stones, where the grass grew, dissolving the soles of shoes. All this time, as Shirra, according to Stan's expression, was stuffing her hand, using a crutch, he and the hunter studied the neighborhood, preparing for a long march to the rest of the wreckage of the ship. He has already passed the strip two times, formed as a result of the ship's fall, about ten kilometers into the forest, but has not found anything interesting yet. Thus, the shell of the hull, several corpses and a huge number of fallen trees which like a wide clearing, pointed out to him the way. As for human corpses, they, like all the previously discovered, were gnawed clean. Stan has already tried to find out more than once. What kind of creatures this work, but from this he did not succeed. Each time they were somehow hidden and still never caught his eye. Of course, it could be that Stan met with them, but simply did not pay attention to them because of their lack of homeliness or something else. Although it was hard to believe that with a human corpse, branches that hanging from trees or, for example, creatures, one of which jumped on his chest, and then disappeared unknown where to do so quickly and cleanly, were mothballed. But Stan, who visited many planets, was cautious: without a thorough check, he did not reject a single variant, be it fantastic until unreal. The main thing that supported the spirit of Stan is the hunter and to a lesser extent Shirra. True, at first Stan did not know how to take a hunter with him to study the forest – whether to carry it in his hands or carry it on a leash. But what to wear a leash if the head of the hunter with the neck then disappeared, then appeared. It is not known how much time he would spend on solving this issue, if not for the hunter himself. When Stan, in the form of the morning round of his possessions, scrambled to the edge of the ravine, and intended to step into the forest, the hunter unexpectedly tore himself away from the wreckage of the hull on which he had warmed all this time, and sank right at the feet of the stunned Stan. Still would! After all, in the six years spent together with the hunter, none of them even suspected that he could fly. This discovery was completely unexpected for Stan. But he was even more delighted when the hunter, after a short while standing still, followed him briskly. From that day Stan never parted with him, and the hunter accompanied him in all sorties out of the gorge. During this time, the hunter with his telepathic power killed several animals and uprooted them with the root of the tree, which he did not like. Returning from the next campaign, Stan hailed the shining Shirra and told her that tomorrow morning they leave the compartment and go in search of the cargo that was being carried aboard the Horst. Stan decided that Shirra does not go badly already, but, in case of danger, the hunter will protect them. Shirra reacted to his message rather peculiarly and only asked what they would do if there was a night in the way, and they would not find anything. Where will they spend the night? "We'll take plastic sheets with us," Stan explained, who had been thinking about this issue for a long time. "At night, we will put them on the ground, and in the morning tie them to the backs. "What's that?" Shirra exclaimed in surprise. "Yes," Stan said firmly. "We'll carry our beds with us." I do not think you want to sleep and never wake up again. You know what some of the types of native plants are capable of. If they eat away their shoes, they will manage with us. "But my foot," Shirra tried to protest. "If you help me carry, then ..." "No. Everyone will carry his own bed," Stan snapped, "my hands should be free." "But, Stan!" Shirra exclaimed, "I can not stand it for long!" 1"What's that to me? Can not – stay!" "But I can not." "And what can you do then, in general?" exploded Stan. "I'm silent," Shirra babbled and covered her mouth with her palm. "For a long time it would be like that," Stan muttered, and leaving her a hunter, went into the compartment with the intention of cutting out plastic sheets and taking food for a ten-day journey. If they do not find anything, then they are more likely to be stretched out in this forest. Some branch or bough will kill them. Now, if they had field generators, then yes... With plastic beds, more precisely sun loungers and belts to them, Stan was carried to the evening and finished the adjustment already at dusk. When, in his opinion, everything was ready, he called Shirra, curiously watching his work, and told her to put on one of the sun beds. Shirra for the species a little stubborn. Then she gave in and put on her back wide straps. Stan turned it in a businesslike way and, judging by the expression on his face, the work done, he was pleased. "Well, it's not hard?" he asked. Shirra rolled her eyes and said with a sigh: "You'll torture me one day." "Answer the question?" "No," Shirra muttered, and tried to throw the deck, which, together with the straps, weighed no more than five kilograms. "Do not hurry," Stan stopped her. "Well, what else is there?" Shirra exclaimed impatiently. "My leg hurts already." "Tolerate," Stan tugged at the straps and was pleased. "I think it's good, huh?" "Not bad," Shirra repeated and looked inquiringly at him. "Can I shoot already? "You can," Stan said. She quickly dropped the lounger and climbed onto the bed. "Tomorrow we'll try it," Stan said excitedly, folding the lounges one on top of the other. "And maybe we will not go anywhere?" Shirra asked shyly. "What?" Stan turned to her and clicked his tongue. This is his "what" sounded in such a tone that Shirra no longer wanted to talk further. "I was joking," she said hurriedly. "Go to sleep, come on. I have to get up early tomorrow." "I'm asleep already," Shirra covered herself and put a hand under her cheek. Stan stared at the beds for some time, then lay down on the soybean near her bed and began to mumble something under his nose, counting. "Stan," Shirra called, after a while. "Well?" "Do not be offended. Good?" "Why should I be offended?" Stan stopped muttering and stroked the hunter's hand. "It's a good beast," he said gently. "I wanted to ask you," Shirra hesitated and blushed slightly. "Well, what else is there?" Stan asked impatiently. "And why did not you fold your neck?" "He added, what should have meant a joke. "I do not know." She smiled and sat up on her elbow, "tell Stan, would you kiss me now?" "What for?" Frowning, he asked. "Do not you like me?" She shook her hair playfully, and they scattered, covering half of her face. It did not impress Stan. "Stan," Shirra called again. "Well?" "Oh my God!" exclaimed Shirra. "Well, why do you have only one "well" and "well"? Can you say anything else?" "Sleep," Stan growled. "Come on." she took offense and was silent for a while, but she did not seem to sleep, and she spoke again. "Stan, you could lie next to me," she asked. Stan did not even bother to answer. "I'm cold, and I'm afraid alone," Shirra continued to say. "You have a gun," Stan said. "Well, what does the gun have to do with it? Tell me, could I have or not?" "What for?" Stan asked, not knowing whether he himself was to strangle it, or to set the hunter on. "You're a man, Stan, and I'm a woman." And I have a feeling that we've been living on this planet for a thousand years, in this metal box, and all this time we are preparing to go somewhere. Well, since, Stan? - Shirra at the end of her monologue, as expected, returned to where to start. "I do not like you," Stan snapped. "But it can not be," Shirra protested. "And, in general, I could not tell this to me. I can take offense at you." Stan snorted at this contemptuously and rolled over to the other side. "Do not you want to know what kind of woman I am?" "I want to." "Yes – eh?" Shirra stretched in surprise, not expecting such an answer. "But it will not be convenient for me to shoot if any creature gets into the compartment." "But we have a hunter." "That does not mean anything." another time somewhere in the future somehow another time sometime later. "There may not be another time," Shirra objected. "All the better. Sleep, come on." Stan swore softly and pulled the covers over his head. She shook her head in displeasure, sighed heavily for a while, but eventually fell asleep. Of all three, only the hunter did not sleep. At times, one eye appeared from his body and, slipping a little on his back, again disappeared. What it meant, it was difficult to say. Perhaps, in this way, the hunter observed, and, possibly, did something else. But what Stan firmly believed was that the hunter would finish off anyone who tried to enter the compartment. And he, I must say, was not mistaken. Shirra appreciated his efforts to look witty and smiled. "Where's the hunter?" she just noticed that the box in which this monster used to rest was empty. "Somewhere on the street," Stan answered. "He will not run away?" "Of course not." "Well, look," Shirra picked up a sandwich with her free hand, which fell into the box that served as the table, and pulled the door open. "Why watch it?" growled Stan. "Now the hunter will not go anywhere." Shirra did not reply to this and left the corridor. There she waited for Stan, and they both got out of the wreckage of the ship. The sun by this time rose quite high and Stan with displeasure noted that they had lost several hours. "Well," Shirra said, "it does not really matter to my leg." "Look better at your feet," Stan advised her, looking up at the hunter. He saw him near stones, covered with moss. The hunter, it seems, had just finished off some creature, a flattened form and three limbs, and now he was busily picking at his belly. What he was looking for, it was not clear. One of his eyes moved to the prey and from time to time, it seemed, with curiosity, looked into the ripped skull. Whether it was in fact, it was difficult to say, but Stan had such an impression. "Hunter, it's time for us," he shouted loudly. Stan suddenly had an unpleasant feeling that it was this creature that was trying to get into the compartment. True, it was impossible to recognize him, but Stan's confidence did not diminish even after the hunter, as if parting, with a powerful telepathic blow smeared the lifeless body over the rocks. The sight was unpleasant, but Stan did not even look back when he heard Shirra scream in surprise. She still continued to pretend that one day the hunter would do something similar to her. "Stan, I'm afraid of him," she whispered, clinging to the sleeve of his jacket. "Calm down," Stan said only. "The hunter is good." He destroys all who are trying to attack us. Really a hunter?" he turned to a silent alien from a distant planet. As if he could answer him. "Do not go crazy," she said soberly, fearing that Stan would eventually consult the hunter, where to go and what to do. "He's bored alone," Stan said, heading for the more or less gently sloping gorge. "A fool," Shirra muttered, following the way the hunter, climbing his thin limbs, scrambled upward. He somehow did not want to fly, having decided to follow the example of his master. "Do not be late, Shirra!" cried out Stan, looking back. "If anything happens, the hunter can touch you with a telepathic blow." We need to stay together all the time." "I know." She sighed and thrust the crutch into the dry soil. Somehow scrambling up, she dropped wearily onto her knees and adjusted the straps, which now and then slipped and prevented them from walking. After a five-minute hike, she was breathing faster, and she felt that her heart was about to jump out of her chest. And what will happen next? She did not even want to think about this. "If you can not go, let's go back," Stan suggested, seeing her sour face. "Yes or three days we can still spend in the compartment." "No, Stan. We decided," Shirra shook her head and rose to her feet. "Everything will be fine," she added and smiled faintly. "The clearing, laid by the wreckage of the ship and the shock wave from the explosion, is about a hundred meters from this place," Stan said, indicating the direction with his hand. "And in ten more kilometers we will see the first large debris." For today, if you can go, we must get there. " "I'll try," Shirra promised without much enthusiasm. "It's good that the grass is rare and not high," she thought with relief. "If there were some bushes or something like that, I would have been confused and fallen for a long time already," smirking at these thoughts, Shirra imagined Stan getting angry at her. But Stan did not pay attention to her, and Shirra allowed herself to smile again. Then she heaved a deep sigh and followed him. As it was persuaded, Stan paved the way, and from her it was required only about the bottom: keep up, do not stop and go as needed. Physically, Shirra was strong, and ten kilometers for her was a mere trifle, if not for the leg. The thought of his own albeit temporary inferiority irritated her very much and Shirra despite the dull pain tried to keep her distance from Stan as little as possible. True, he himself did not very much in a hurry. The area along which they walked was still poorly known to him, and plants and animals, as you know, did not have much to themselves. In addition, the unfamiliar nature a little distracted Shirra's attention from her own foot, and she was surprised to look at the strange trees that grew quite far apart, while their branches mingled in unimaginable knots, and in some places reached the ground and, seemed to have taken root. Another thing that surprised Shirra was that some places on the trees were barely noticeably throbbing, and inside the branches there was a noise, as if the liquid was overflowing there. Stan already told her about these trees, but Shirra was a little surprised and frightened. How would it look funny and unusual, she still liked the simple trees that do not rustle inside and do not pulsate. The hunter, who had been moving a little behind and slightly away from her all this time, suddenly got up into the air and flew to a tree that was about fifteen meters from the edge of the clearing along which they walked. She wondered what he was going to do, but she did not say anything to Stan.
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