Dangerous Planet
CHAPTER 10
The next day, Shirra looked pleased. Stan did not bother with boring questions anymore, and from the very morning she began to prepare sandwiches, regretting that she was unable to set the table as she had once been taught.
Stan was surprised by this change, but he did not give a kind and took it for granted, thinking at the same time that in dealing with Shirra, using sex as an incentive is not such a useless occupation. There was a good, and yet what. He was so energetic and with such brilliant eyes that he never had to see her again. "How did you sleep?" Shirra asked gently, kissing him on the lips. Stan mumbled something and shook his head in surprise. "Nothing, "he said, and after a pause, added:" I dreamed, of course, something, but what exactly I forgot." "I had no dreams," Shirra smiled even more and handed him the largest sandwich. "Eat," she said, and kissed him again. Stan tasted, almost jerking his jaw, yawned and took a stretched sandwich. He liked Shirra much more. "I'm so glad," Shirra said, sitting down on his lap. "So glad! "What?" Stan asked inattentively, thinking about whether he wants to eat or not. "What happened between us. But you?" Shirra took his face in her hands and looked Stan in the eyes. "But you, Stan?" she repeated and kissed him on the overgrown cheek. "Also," Stan answered, thinking, remembering that the naked Shirra liked him: her body was excellent. "It's true?" Shirra watched him eat, and Stan had the impression that she was about to swallow it with a sandwich. "True," Stan answered affirmatively. "I really like you. I would even say that I have never seen anything better than you before." "I'm glad to hear that." she put her hands behind her head and smiled dreamily. "I even think that this planet is not so bad," she added, not really thinking about what she was talking about. "What?" Stan stopped chewing and looked at her in bewilderment. "No, of course, I understand everything, but ..." she did not say much and quickly got off his knees. "I'll pack it, okay?" "All right," Stan's jaw moved rhythmically again, and he thought about the amazing change that had taken place with Shirra. "When are we going out?" after a few minutes, she interrupted his reflections. She quickly coped with the things and now did not know what to do. "Let's eat and go," Stan answered, wiping his hands in a scrap of cloth. "We need to see if someone has come to the signal of that ship," he added, getting to his feet and putting on a lounger on his back. "That would be great," Shirra agreed, following his example. "Of course," Stan nodded and looked through the eyes of the hunter. He was sleeping in a drawer, and seemed to be going nowhere. Stan silently digs into his ear and opens the compartment door. The day had already begun, and the sun was hanging high above the top of the trees. "Another day or two, and we'll certainly find something sensible," he said, inhaling fresh air full of chest. "You think so?" asked Shirra, leaning on her crutch and squinting in the sun. "I think so." Stan nodded his head affirmatively and looked around. "I'm tired of this forest," he said suddenly and spit to the ground. "Me too, but we have no other way out. It’s true isn’t it?" "What's wrong with that?" Stan stepped onto the green leaves, and they quickly hid in the soil. "Damn you all," Stan cursed and clicked his tongue. "Anyway, one day it will end and we'll go home," Shirra said dreamily and looked curiously at the hunter who had just appeared from the grass-covered crack. "All right, Shirra, it's time to go," Stan waved his hand and slowly started off. "It's necessary, it's necessary," Shirra silently followed, followed by the hunter. This night he spent in the compartment and did not go anywhere. Apparently, he did not want to hunt, but to just hang around like that, there was no desire either. The prosecution, meanwhile, slowly began to expand, and Stan, after some time, came to the conclusion that they were approaching the center of the catastrophe, where, in his opinion, the main fragments of the ship were supposed to be. The trees that were hit by the shock wave and the subsequent explosions were much larger here, and any rubbish scattered by the explosion in all directions met more often than before. And when such finds came to their eyes, Stan and Shirra stopped and looked at them intently. But if any thing in the past would be of any interest to them, now it was so disfigured that it was only suitable for nailing the nails. Disappointed in their findings several times in a row, Stan decided not to waste time studying them. But when they found another find on the way, he, as before, could not resist the temptation. "How many are there," Shirra said after she stumbled and nearly fell. "Yes, a lot," Stan, without turning, nodded his head and bent over something. It was a half-eaten and half-decayed corpse of a woman. "You better not watch," he said hastily. But Shirra did see. "Oh, Lord." she was horrified and quickly hobbled on. Stan, meanwhile, inspected the remains of the woman on the leeward side and quickly caught up with her. "What is it?" Shirra asked in a hoarse voice. "We'll see a whole bunch of such good things." "Stan, how can you say that?" "Shirra stopped and looked at him. "These are people." "People are you and me," Stan objected, "and everything else is shit." saying this, he frowned and went on. Shirra silently looked him in the back, but after spending the night decided not to quarrel. Suddenly, Stan will be offended and will not want to sleep with her any more. Then she will have a bad mood again. Therefore she only gritted her teeth and, adjusting the straps of the lounger, hobbled after him. After about two hours, when the sun was already high, and it was getting hot, Stan stopped and threw his lounger on the ground. Having understood without words what he was going to do, Shirra followed suit, after which she pulled two cans of a drink from the bag. She handed it to Stan and she opened it for herself. "Drink only half," he warned. "I know." she sipped her tonic and narrowed her eyes in satisfaction. "How much is left?" Stan asked after a short pause. "Ten." "That will be enough for three or four days," he concluded. "We will save," Shirra said. "We will," Stan agreed. Then they rested in silence. Everyone drank from his can and watched the hunter, who, digging in the soil, was looking for something there. "What planet is he from?" Shirra asked after her bank eased evenly. "I do not know," Stan shrugged and looked at the sun. "It's time for us," he said. "In the evening we must find some kind of shelter." Shirra was eager to protest and tell her that she was tired. But instead she rose to her feet and took up her crutch. "Have patience, baby. Still not for long," Stan smiled encouragingly and went first. "I endure it," Shirra said wearily. "Only if you do not hurry." "I'll try," Stan promised. So they went for another three hours. At the end of this long journey, Shirra got wet and was ready to fall to the ground and fall asleep. And at the moment when this desire filled her whole consciousness, she felt Stan's hand squeeze her elbow. "It seems we came," he said in a whisper. Hearing his voice, Shirra barely opened her eyes and saw in a hundred meters the fragments of the middle part of the ship, compared to which the compartment looked like an anthill against a high-rise building. But Shirrou was more impressed not so much by the size as the unimaginable chaos of things, debris and some kind of constructions. She did not even realize at once that they were in the very place where the ship came out of the subspace and tangled on the surface of the planet tangentially. "That's right," Stan whistled, and, unable to restrain himself, scratched his head. "You can dig a year in this dump, but you will not find anything." He kicked a box with his foot and spat on the ground. "Of course, some of this will be scattered by the hunter, but he is unlikely to cope with propulsion." "And what will we do then?" Shirra asked in a fallen voice. "We'll see," Stan answered with restraint. "Do you think," said Shirra after a pause, "is there a cargo hold among all this, which we have been talking about for so many days?" She threw off the sunbed from her back and leaned on the crutch. "It must be," Stan replied confidently, although ..." he hesitated and spat again. "Something is wrong?" Shirra pricked up her ears. No, except for that ..." Stan scratched his cheek slowly, "that I do not see it here," he concluded gloomily, and cursing, he sat down on a stone. The stone somehow moved suspiciously, then dropped it to the ground and disappeared into the grass. "Devil!" Stan jumped to his feet and snatched a blaster. But it was too late to shoot. What was that, Stan?" "Shirra asked, frightened, squeezing a crutch with a trembling hand. How do I know," Stan snapped, angry at himself for such inattention. "There are so many things here that go figure it out, what it was." he lowered the blaster, but did not hide it. "Maybe we'll come closer?" Shirra suggested timidly, still looking at the place where the "stone" had disappeared. "Come on," Stan waved his hand and walked gingerly forward, dotted with sharp teeth. He quickly overtook Shirra and approached Stan. "Try not to make noise," he ordered in a loud whisper. Shirra nodded her head and took the gun in her right hand. Suddenly have to shoot? * * * Penetrating into the half-dark corridor, the edge of which began at the base of a miracle of the surviving tree, Stan stopped and waited until his eyes got used to the darkness. Then he turned around and motioned for Shirra to follow him. After that, Stan moved as carefully as possible and stopped at each door, opened it sharply and looked inside. All these numerous passenger cabins were empty, but Stan suspected that in the time that the ship lay in the forest, creatures that he had never seen before could have been settled in it. "Stan, there's someone there," whispered Shirra, who was more closely watching him than she was walking. Stan stopped and looked at her questioningly. "There," Shirra said with her lips, and nodded her head off to the side. What happened next second, Stan at the time until the end did not understand. He only noticed a shadow appear at the far end of the corridor, and then several deafening shots rang out. Bullets squealed over Stan's head and crashed into a metal partition. From surprise, Shirra slipped and fell to the floor, striking Stan at the same time with a crutch in the back. Stan himself jumped forward and hit his stomach on some drawer. His heart pounded like a hammer, and it took him a long time before he made him beat in a normal rhythm. All these shots were for him, like a bolt from the blue. Stan," he heard behind Shirra's whisper. "Are you all right?" he asked quickly. "Yes. Who was that?" "I do not know someone shot." "But who?" "Probably, except for us, someone else survived and took us for someone." I was so frightened, Stan," Shirra confessed in a loud whisper. Stan wanted to say that he was frightened, too, but he came to his senses in time and said nothing. We must seize him," he stated, after a while. "Whom, Stan?" "The one who shot." You stay here, I'll be back soon," Stan listened to his feet and pressed himself against the wall. Now it was difficult to see him. Standing still for a while, he crouched and began to advance towards the place where someone had fired them. With increasing tension, he overcame a solid part of the corridor and stopped near the half-closed door. For a moment he heard a noise behind her, which immediately died down. Having swallowed saliva, Stan stood opposite the door and pointed a blaster at her, but then changed his mind and heavily hit the door with his foot. Then came a woman's scream, a shot and the noise of something fallen. Stan quickly rushed into the compartment, but at the very threshold he stumbled and fell on someone's body, which wriggled and scratched. Realizing what it all means, Stan wrenched the gun from the wrestling woman's hands and crushed her knee to the floor. In the semi-darkness it was difficult to see her face, and Stan only heard her hoarse breath and a low moan. "You're crazy," he breathed, spitting to the floor. His lip was smashed, and there was a taste of blood in his mouth. "Let me go," the woman asked in a choked voice and tried to escape. "It hurts and it's hard for me to breathe," she added, screaming in pain. "Why did you shoot?" Stan barked, not paying attention to her request. "You could have killed me." "I thought they were bipeds," the woman answered. "They killed everyone who survived the disaster, and I was left alone." "Stanley?" Stan let go of her and sat on the floor. "What kind of animals are these?" He asked, not without curiosity. "They were almost never seen, but they killed everyone." The woman sat next to him and clasped her head in her hands. "My God, how tired I am," she said desperately, "every day shooting and fighting for life." "I know that," Stan said, handing her the gun. "I hope you've made sure that I'm not a bipedal?" he asked, getting to his feet. "Are you from this ship?" the woman asked. "Of course." "But where are you from?" she asked, trying to see it in the darkness of the compartment. "From there," Stan waved his hand somewhere to the side and got out of the compartment into the corridor. "You are alone?" asked the woman, following him. "No. With me Shirra." "Where is she?" "There," Stan answered briefly, then after a moment's silence, asked: "What's your name?" "Jema. But you?" "Stan. Jema?" "Yes, Stan." "Are you really alone here?" "No, there's still Jill left." But she's afraid of getting out of the compartment and spending all the time locked up, "Jema explained, somehow apologetically. Stan responded with something muttered and looked along the corridor where Shirra was supposed to be. "Everything is fine!" he cried aloud. "You can go out." Hearing his voice, Shirra rose to her feet and waved her hand. "Now you will not be bored with my company," he added, referring to Jema's appearance and Jill, who was unfamiliar to him.
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