Dangerous Planet
CHAPTER 8
Flying to the tree the hunter released his limbs with dark marigolds, grabbed a thick branch. Then one of his eyes rolled down his back and began to examine the green surface of the branch. He leaned back from the hunter for a meter and a half of his eyes froze for a few seconds, as if listening to something, then hurried back to his back. Shirra's behavior seemed strange, and she called to Stan.
"Stan, look," she called softly. Stan paced steadily then turned abruptly. His glance paused for a few seconds on her tense face, and then moved to the branch where the hunter was hanging. "On the right, I smelled something," he said slowly, holding the blaster in his hand, "as though some creature had jumped out of this branch," he added, and, just in case, looked around. He did not call the hunter, because it would be in vain. While he himself does not understand that he was interested, it was useless. He would not have obeyed anyway. The hunter, meanwhile, gnawed a hole in his branch with sharp teeth and, ignoring the transparent liquid that appeared from there, slipped one of the clawed limbs inside. From the side the impression was created that he was trying to catch something there. Twenty seconds later, the hunter's eyes ran over his back, and from the hole in the branch appeared his limb, clutching the claws with something oblong and red in color. It wriggled furiously and tried to break free from the clawed hunter's paw. "Stan, what is it?" exclaimed Shirra, croaking with disgust and almost stumbling from surprise. "I do not know," Stan answered with a shrug. "I have already seen something similar, but who knows what else can be done in these branches. "And if it kills the hunter?" "Shirra looked at Stan anxiously and saw him condescendingly grinning. "Nonsense. The hunter climbed after him," Stan, although a little worried, did not, of course, give the appearance. True, he turned on the control unit for a return signal, but instead of releasing the creature and dropping to the ground, the hunter opened his mouth with sharp teeth and thrust it directly into his throat. Then I caught another one of the same creature from the branch and sent it after the first one. "Why, he's hungry!" exclaimed Stan, and looked cheerfully at Shirra. "Imagine, for the first time in all this time he eats!" "So what?" Shirra wondered, not understanding why an event should be made from this. "Oh, what can I say to you?" Stan waved his hand and walked quickly toward the tree where the hunter still hung. "Come back Stan!" Shirra shouted, not wanting to be alone. "If we hang around one tree for an hour, we will not get anywhere. In the end, do not forget about my leg." The reproach was just and Stan turned back. Said something to himself under his nose and cast an indefinite glance at her he adjusted the straps of the lounger and again walked steadily along the glade, laying Shirra path among the fallen tree trunks, the liquid from which had long since emerged and turned into translucent puddles and puddles. The branches, both thick and thin, withered and fell to the ground. In general, it was not difficult to walk, and Stan stopped to rest only after Shirra fell two times into a frozen puddle, and the third time not only fell, but also hurled a crutch in his back. This gesture, Stan understood, testified to her extreme fatigue. Personally, he by this time only entered the rhythm and was ready to walk a few hours in a row. But he looked with regret at the sweaty Shirra and, without saying anything, threw the lounger on the withered leaves. "Half an hour, and then we'll go on," he said, sinking to the lounger and stretching his legs. Shirra wanted to tell him that this was not enough, and to remind her of her fatigue, but she restrained herself and only mentally complained about her fate. "And why do I need all this?" she muttered, stupidly staring at some flattened animal, peeking out from under the trunk of a tree. "Then, why should I, too," Stan answered and looked searchingly for the hunter. He did not see him anywhere. "And why did our ship explode?" "Shirra asked desperately, hitting the branch with her fist. "Can you tell me this?" she looked angrily at Stan, but he did not turn his head to her." Stan, I'm talking to you! " "What do you want?" Stan bent his knee and raised his head. "Why are we here?" Why did the ship explode? Why, finally, am I, Shirra, sitting in this puddle, and not on Teler? Can you answer these questions? "Shirra almost screamed, and Stan decided that another hysterics had rolled over her. So far, she was not bad, but all her courage, most likely, was caused by the shock after the disaster. "I can," Stan answered calmly. "Speak," demanded Shirra, once again striking the branch with her fist, disturbing one of her injured fingers. Biting her lip, she moaned in pain and squeezed the finger of a healthy hand. "Why are you silent?" she cried, almost crying. "And what should I do…sing?" Stan spit and looked at the sky. It was blue, and the sun was still shining brightly. Still Stan thought that he had never seen the clouds. In general, he did not particularly need them, but, in his opinion, from time to time they would not be in the way to appear at least for a change. "Stan!" "What?" "You did not answer me." "You can count; the captain pressed the wrong button, as a result of which we crashed into the surface of the planet. Does this answer suit you?" Stan spit again and slid a look at Shirra. "Who fired in the control room? Can you tell me this?" Shirra took off the straps of the lounger and, following Stan's example, began to lay on it. "Shot the captain," Stan answered calmly. "In whom?" "Clearly to whom. In the hunter." "And then what happened?" Shirra turned pale, and she had the unpleasant feeling that Stan was hiding something from her. "I already told you," Stan snapped. "The bullet hit the control panel and violated the cybebrain, after which it all began." "And why then did not the protection system work?" Shirra continued to press on him. "How do I know?" Stan shrugged and looked at his watch. They had to rest for another ten minutes. "I'm not a pilot, and I do not understand such things ... Fool, rejoice that there are still alive," he added, and began to examine the sock of his own boot. Shirra had nothing to say, and she, unable to change anything in her present position, only clenched her fists. When Stan spent time on rest, he gave the command, and despite the sour expression of Shirra, almost by force put her on his feet and put a lounger on his back. Then, for a minute, he looked at the section of the clearing that they were to pass in the very near future, and only then they set off. In general, to be honest, Shirra somewhat exaggerated the difficulties of the way. They, it is possible to say, were lucky, as the forest grew on a flat place, and it was quite easy to walk. Of course, as before, Stan was guarded by puddles of frozen liquid that had leaked from the fallen trees, and he advised Shirra to bypass them just in case. Of the animals, they met only two green rugs and some kind of flat creature, a piece of bark that had fallen off a tree. Stan did not even want to recall the horror and shrill screams of Shirra when this piece of bark jumped on her back and with something sharp tore off a piece of plastic from the lounger. Continuing to squeal, which Stan did not have in his ears barely in the ears, Shirra still managed to throw off this strange creature from the back and discharged into it a whole clip of the pistol. It remained to lie on the ground with a dozen holes in a flat body and a torn piece of plastic lying around. After this incident, Shirra could not calm down for a long time and, trembling all over, looked around with horror. From Stan, she now did not retreat a step and did not harass him with stupid questions. As for the green rugs, the hunter corrected them: one of them he cut into pieces, and the second telepathic blow smeared on the tree, where he managed to climb. From all this, Shirra almost went crazy, and not to see all these vile creatures, was ready to climb with a lounger Stan in his bosom. Fortunately, she still understood that it was not possible to do so. Stan, of course, reassured her, but what could he do, when he felt himself not very comfortable. Now, after all that he had seen, he was not at all surprised if someone had told him now that they would not find any cargo compartment, but would die from the poison or the bite of some creature. But soon the course of his thoughts changed, and he thought that it would be nice to have one more such a bed and tie them in front. Then they, probably, will overcome distance by one ten kilometers more. But Shirra reacted to his new idea rather coldly: she was still clutching a pistol in her hand with an empty clip and did not want to let Stan change it. It seems that she was in shock. * * * When they walked about six kilometers the scattered things, wreck, debris and ... human bones began to come on their way. It was already impossible to disassemble who they used to belong to, passengers or crew members. As before, Stan was surprised at how cleanly the corpses were processed. One could have thought that since the crash of the ship was not one hundred years. Sometimes he even had a desire to meet these mysterious elusive creatures, but some seventh sense told him that it would be much better if such a meeting did not take place. Shirra, to his dumb surprise, took the gnawed skeletons as something ordinary, and hardly glanced at them with a glance. Only near the first skeleton they discovered, she stopped, but on the rest of the attention did not pay at all. With Stan, she did not talk and from time to time shot at suspicious objects. She herself changed the clip, thereby letting Stan know that she is not as helpless as he probably thinks. But Stan did not even think about it. He was irritated by an unreasonable shooting, but he was silent and only frowned. But, in the end, he came to the conclusion that Shirra is just a young girl who probably did not even see the real forest, let alone the creatures from other worlds. The trials that fell to her lot could have broken somebody stronger. "Well, how are you?" he asked cautiously, after Shirra had shot the third clip with some kind of satisfying satisfaction. "Look, what's on my back?" she asked instead of answering and turned her back to Stan. "There's nothing there," he reassured her. "You killed the thing yourself." "Are you sure there's nothing left?" "Shirra did not believe him and did not hide it." "No," Stan answered shortly, keeping her gaze fixed. "Well, look," Shirra said after a moment's silence. "You've already given me life once." "Savior," Stan agreed. "On my own head," he added, but so that she would not hear him. "Did you say something?" asked Shirra sharply. "Yes, do not you jerk off?" Stan cut off. "I say that in this place we can find many useful things. Maybe even food." "Or corpses," Shirra said, for some reason. Stan swore and quickly went ahead. Realizing that she was overdoing, Shirra tried to throw off the numbness that seized her. She succeeded, and she more or less managed to focus on what she sees in reality, and not what her excited imagination paints. Here is a piece of crumpled plating, the left leg of the chair, someone's case with a torn off handle, and ... and a creature with a large purple eye and a few ugly limbs on the back covered with a matte film. For a moment Shirra thought that it seemed to her, but when the creature quickly began to approach her instead of disappearing, she had the sensation that she was growing to the ground and straightening out the roots. "That's too much," a thought flashed through her mind. With an outburst of anger, Shirra threw out her hand with a pistol and shot several times in a row, aiming at the eye. By shooting the creature was thrown aside, and instead of rushing at it, it shrieked and tried to burrow into the ground. Hearing the shots, Stan turned around and, shouting something, rushed to her. But Shirra, not hearing anything, raised her gun and almost with pleasure thrust some more bullets into the gray-green back. The creature twitched with all its limbs and froze, and not having time to hide. At that moment, Stan came running. Realizing what had happened he smiled encouragingly and squeezed Shirra in tight embraces. "Well done, little one," he complimented, feeling the tears flowing down his face, "and so on, and you'll be crying when we get home." Do you understand me? Stan pushed her away from him and began wiping her face wet with tears. "You think we'll come back?" choking on tears and, muttered Shirra, firmly pressing against him. "Certainly," Stan answered with unshakable confidence. "We only need to find the cargo hold." "And if," Shirra tried to protest. "No, if not," Stan put his arm around her shoulders and led him along. "Another two kilometers, and we can get settled for the night." "Among those debris?" Shirra asked, sighing heavily and sipping her nose from time to time. "That's right," Stan nodded and picked up the case with the handle torn off. Noticing Shirra's interrogative look, he explained: then we'll see something. "As you wish," Shirra sighed again and decided that, in the end, it was time for her to cheer up and pull herself together. But how? If this planet just does that and tries to kill them. It would be much easier if life was not there at all or it was just beginning. But ... about forty minutes later, Stan nearly dragged Shirra to the ship fragments he had discovered earlier, and silently lowered it to the crumpled bulkhead. For the first time he had a good idea that these fragments can be used as an intermediate camp for achieving the ultimate goal. True, he did not find any food. Checking to see if any monster is hiding inside, Stan let the hunter go ahead, and then himself entered the wreckage. Choosing the corner with the strongest walls, he called Shirra and showed her the place where you can sit while he examines the rest of the room. Staggering with fatigue, Shirra silently took the lounger from her back and threw it under the wall, where there were no cracks. Then she sat down on him and examined the room with curiosity. Previously, it was someone's cabin, and now scattered things were strewn about everywhere. But Shirra's attention was attracted to a small handbag, lying under a broken table. Pulling it out, Shirra opened the latch and poured the contents onto the floor. In addition to cosmetics and all kinds of tinsel, she saw a flat videophone with a portable inform - bank block. After hesitating for a few seconds, Shirra switched on the unit and a picture of a young woman appeared on the screen of the videophone, then replaced by her address. "Stan," Shirra called, looking thoughtfully at the newly appeared image of the woman. "What?" Stan stopped for second pulling things in one corner and wiping sweat from his forehead looked at her inquiringly. "You did not find anyone here for the first time?" Shirra somehow thought that this pretty woman could survive and be now somewhere nearby. "Only a few corpses," Stan answered after a pause. "But what?" "No, nothing." She turned off the videophone and closed her eyes wearily. "How long should we go?" "After a while," she asked. "And the devil only knows," Stan said. "Like this?" "Very simple. I did not go further than this place, and what is behind this debris is unknown to me." "I see," said Shirra, and, without noticing it, made an acid grimace. "It's great we're going to suffer." "That's for sure," Stan agreed. Having dragged all things in such a way that in one place there was a free space sufficient to accommodate two people, he lowered his lounger next to Shirra and handed her a bag of groceries. "Do something to have a bite, and in the meantime I'll examine the other compartments." "Again, sandwiches?" Shirra asked curiously. "Can you think of anything else, or can you shoot a local creature?" Stan smiled and shook his head. "I do not think you'd prefer sandwiches to a dish made from a green rug or that guy with a proboscis." "Phew," Shirra frowned disgustedly and pushed him with her hand. "Well, you have jokes," she added, and pulled out a can of canned food. "Try to save the food," Stan said, watching as she opened it. "I'm trying." she threw the lid under her feet and gently sniffed the contents of the jar. "Oh, Lord." She sighed and looked at Stan. "Well, what is it?" he asked, examining the blaster and from time to time, glancing at the hunter who was rummaging in the heap of things. "Nothing, I’ve just said so." "Oh," Stan nodded his head and thought for a moment, "then so, I leave the hunter to you ... do not interrupt me ... he will guard you. But the gun just in case does not put it anywhere. Do you understand me?" "I understand." she nodded her head and smiled. "I will do everything as you said." "Well, well," Stan looked at her incredulously, then slipped the blaster into his belt and, slowly, left the compartment. Outside, it was still quite light, and while Shirra was preparing dinner, he decided to look at the other compartments. In fact, the word "rest" was not suitable here, because one more of the five compartments survived. Then there were piles of crumpled metal with partitions sticking out in many places. All the rest was crumpled flattened and resembled an impenetrable labyrinth.
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