Dangerous Planet
CHAPTER 15 Stan walked with a leisurely pace around the place where the cargo compartment fell, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face. Jema stood next to him and looked with eyes at the containers and aircraft scattered around them. Yesterday, when Stan was telling her about her discovery, she imagined all this in more gloomy colors and was now pleasantly surprised. She was neither a pilot nor a specialist in space technology, but it was clear to her that of all this, for sure, something could be collected.
It is not excluded that they will have their own flygrav. True, they have not yet tried to wobble inside any apparatus, but Jema was for some reason sure that they will be lucky and they will be able to return today for Jill and Shirra by air, without spending so much time on the road in a dangerous forest and such same dangerous creatures. It seems that their torment has come to an end. Stan was humming a funny song and Jam, on this basis, decided to assume that their affairs are not so bad. "Stan, how long are we gonna walk this way?" Jema asked, meaning Stan, and then she, roamed the drop in the cargo hold for a good twenty minutes. "We need so many," Stan answered, stopping his song for a few seconds. "I'm not kidding," Jema chuckled a smile from her face and putting her hand to her eyes with her peak looked at the sun. "Do not forget that Jill and Shirra remained on the ship. And it's hard for them without us." "I remember." Stan frowned and spat at his feet. Then he pushed aside the lid of one of the containers and began to sort through its contents. Jema silently stood behind him and began not without curiosity to follow his actions. "That's what we need?" after a pause, she asked. Not at all," Stan answered, looking up at her. "This cargo belonged to us." "To whom is this "us"?" Me, Neil and the boss," said Stan, hesitating. Where are they?" Jema asked. "Where are the others," Stan growled. "Sorry." Nothing," Stan sighed heavily and picked up Sigourney's carbine. Weighed it, he aimed at a box and several times in a row quickly pulled the trigger. The box was thrown out with shots, and Jema, with a cry of surprise, clamped her hands over her ears. "Lord, how did you frighten me," she cried angrily, when the roar of the guns died down, and Sigourney's carbine was again returned to its place. "And where does this junk come from?" "Boss ordered one guy and he gave him one copy," Stan explained. "Sigourney liked the noisy hunt." "А-а," Jema stretched understandingly and involuntarily poked her finger in the ear. Nothing will pass," Stan reassured her, and his eyes sparkled with merry sparkles. I hope," Jema smiled then laughed. "Maybe we'll check the anti-graves?" she asked half-questioningly. "Let's better deal with the flygrav," retorted Stan, rising to his feet. "If at least one of them works less, then the need for a platform of anti-graves disappears by itself." "Well, perhaps," Jema shrugged uncertainly and looked at the burnt anti-grip lying around the same charred flyer. "Home, get inside," Stan said, trying to hide his concern in his voice. Unfortunately, their own flygrav suffered more than others, but Stan, however, approached him and dialed the code on the melted buttons. Automatics to his surprise worked, and the dome drove to the side. He breathed out sharply and looked at the excited Jema: "This is our flygrav," he explained. "We transported him with ..." he did not finish and cleverly climbed into the pilot's seat. "Well, what's there?" Jema shouted impatiently from below. "Now," Stan waved to her and surveyed the control panel fluently. Outwardly, he looked normal, and there was no damage. "Are you there long?" Jema shouted again. "Stop it," Stan grumbled and turned on the computer with a sharp movement. Right display immediately came to life, and it showed information about the technical state of the main units of the flygrav. They were in perfect order, and the device could at least now get up in the air. Realizing this, Stan grimaced and grinned in a satisfied smirk. Now he will certainly get out of this planet, and at the same time he will deal with the fallen ship, which he did not forget for a moment. "How much is it possible for Stan?" Jema shouted impatiently. "Do not forget where we are." "Come to me," instead of an answer Stan ordered and made a sign to her. Jema did not wait for the repetition, quickly climbed aboard the flygrav and took a place in the next chair. In the management of flygravs, she understood no more than in the management of galactic systems and everything that Stan was doing now was for her a Chinese letter. "Is the connection working?" she asked cautiously, making sure that after the invitation to take a seat beside him, he was not going to pay more attention to him. "There are no hyperspace channels on the flygrav," Stan answered inconsiderately, who was studying the information that was changing on the computer screen at that moment. As he found out, the flygrav system in automatic mode, conducted a study of the planet and all this time collected information about the flora and fauna. The list of animals reached about one hundred units, while the plants passed for half a thousand. "Stan, when are we going to call for help?" Jema asked timidly. "Wait a little," Stan nodded mechanically and pressed several buttons on the remote control. The protective dome returned silently to its place, and the flygrav hung on a magnetic cushion. "Stan, you left the hunter!" Jema shouted as she saw the hunter trying to climb the container. "Nothing will happen to him," Stan answered. "Usually he travels on his own, or clings to something on the flygrav." He smiled and lifted the flygrav to a hundred-meter height. The forest, which had become obnoxious for these days, immediately went down, and the sunlight flooded the showroom of the flygrav. "How nice!" Jema exclaimed joyfully and stretched all over with a blissful body. "I immediately felt like a man. And then we all creep through the forest, as I do not know who. "She laughed loudly, showing Stan a set of even teeth. "Not for long now," Stan assured her. "It would be nice," Jema settled comfortably in a soft armchair, and as usual she smiled happily. "Can you manage?" Stan asked, noticing that she was looking curiously at the control panel. "No," Jema admitted reluctantly. "It's bad." Stan thought about it and scratched his nose with his finger. "Okay, it's time to get down to business." With these words, he pressed a few more buttons on the remote control, after which the flygrav gently began to gain altitude. | |
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