United States or Iraq ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Ulv took off the length of cloth he had wrapped around his body against the chill, and refolded it as a kilt, strapping it on under his belt artifacts. He grunted something unintelligible and when a muttered answer came, Brion for the first time became aware of the woman and the child. The two sat against the far wall, squatting on either side of a heap of fibrous plants.
"It is a profound and sincere pleasure to meet you in person," he said. "And your friend Ulv as well." "Would you kindly explain what is going on?" Brion said thickly. He was obsessed by the strange feeling that none of this could possibly be happening. "We will always remember you as the man who saved us from ourselves," Krafft said, once again the professor instead of the commander.
"I don't know for sure, but there is a very good chance it is so," Brion said, trying to repair his defenses. "Telt made readings, he had other records of radioactivity in this same magter keep proof that something is there. But Telt is dead now, the records destroyed. Don't you see " He broke off, realizing how vague and unprovable his case was. This was defeat.
Brion bit his lip in helpless frustration. Nothing seemed to penetrate the apathy into which she had sunk. Too much shock, too much terror, in too short a time. He took her chin in his hand and turned her head to face him. She didn't resist, but her eyes were shining with tears; tears trickled down her cheeks. "Take me home, Brion, please take me home."
Instead of having a courtyard inside it, the wall was the outer face of the structure, the domed roof rising from it. At varying intervals dark openings gave access to the interior. When Brion looked down, the sand car was just a dun-colored bump in the desert, already far behind him. Stooping, he went through the nearest door. There was still no one in sight.
One line scratched in the sand pointed due north, a second pointed out the course they should follow. When they were aligned to his satisfaction he washed his mouth out with a single swallow of water and sat on the sand next to the still form of the girl. Gold fingers of fire searched across the sky, wiping out the stars. It was magnificent; Brion forgot his fatigue in appreciation.
In the brief instant after he fired, a jarring weight landed on his back and a line of fire circled his throat. Normally he fought with a calm mind, with no thoughts other than of the contest. But Ihjel, a friend, a man of Anvhar, had died a few seconds before, and Brion found himself welcoming this physical violence and pain.
Her palms were warm and slightly moist. "Thank you, Brion," was all she could say. Her society on Earth was highly civilized and sophisticated, able to discuss any topic without emotion and without embarrassment. This was fine in most circumstances, but made it difficult to thank a person for saving your life.
Apparently everything was going well, because the only reaction was the expected injection of vitamins and glucose. "I can't say I'm feeling wonderful yet," Brion answered, levering himself higher on the pillows. "But every day it's a bit better steady progress." "I hope so, because we have about two weeks before we get to Dis. Do you think you'll be back in shape by that time?"
I have to tell Hys!" "Tell him what?" Brion asked sharply. "What is all the mystery about?" Telt handed him the magnifier and tape. "Look at that recording tape from my scintillation counter. Red verticals are five-minute intervals, the wiggly black horizontal line is the radioactivity level. All this where the line goes up and down, that's when we were driving out to the attack.
Word Of The Day