Текст книги "The Natotevaal Recruits (СИ)"
Автор книги: Андрей Демидов
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 17 страниц) [доступный отрывок для чтения: 7 страниц]
Aguilar put maisbrand to use, a few shots of which made Saurno show his missing front tooth and claim that it was done by the hands or rather feet of Whitehouse, who at the time of his salvation being unconscious, started waving his limbs, nearly causing the car to turn over; which would have been fatal in the sandstorm, and thus knocked out his tooth.
The Indian then drank some more and sat down near Whitehouse. With the help of Dybal he started asking questions about his well-being, mood, future plans.
The hunter finally became more specific, although he spoke in a roundabout way.
– We the Kichak are proud people. But there are very few of us left. We do not enrage the spirits of the mountains and the desert. We do not forget about Christ. We do not kill more game than we can eat; we never bring down more trees than we need for building houses, cooking and making palm soap. We honor the graves of our ancestors, and keep to our traditions. But tell me, Big Alien, what happens when a sister marries a brother?
Children are born with tails and eight fingers on the hand. They are thrown from the rock of grief into the abyss. We cannot feed them. All that takes life power from our women puts wrinkles on their faces and makes their hair gray. At the same time matilones multiply like rabbits in hot summer and wait. They know how to do away with us without using the assault rifles. Listen, Big Alien, I find you amid the cries of the Great Desert, my brothers killed two commandos snipers on the spurs of the mountains, who were hunting on you and your friends, my mother Unsuna nursed you.
Tell me, would you refuse to help a small endangered clan? You're so big and strong, but are you going to leave tomorrow and carry away your power, which we crave for?
When Saurno ended his impassioned speech, Dybal could not refrain from laughing, when he saw Whitehouse blink helplessly not knowing what he should say in response and what to do: whether to escape from the grip of the Kichak, or kiss him like a father.
Meanwhile they heard that cock fight has begun at Rodriguez", and most of the guests went there. Mackliff also reached for the door, but Aydem held him, and they began to wail "I am Yankee diddle dandy". Aguilar banged on a tambourine, and Saurno"s daughters swirled in a strange, mysterious dance.
Saurno, still hanging on Whitehouse, continued: – Here they are: my daughters, my pride. Manuela, Chabela and Huayaakava. Look what tight breasts, agile hips and gentle hands they have. Any of them would agree to marry you, happy to share your bed. She would hover around your body, like a flock of orioles at your brow...
– But I have a wife and two sons waiting for me at home, in Boston... – Whitehouse said dejectedly, – I am very much obliged to you, Saurno, I owe you my life, but I cannot stay here. I have to go with my friends. We are one crew. The crew of "Independence," and while we are together, the shuttle cannot be considered lost. Do you understand me?
The Kichak suddenly saddened, sat for a while in silence, rubbing an amulet on his chest, and then said:
– No one can keep you in Magdalena, Big Alien. It is a pity. But you do not have to stay here; at least we'll all be praying Baurahirta for this. We like you. But a couple of sleepless nights in my humble home, alternately in hammocks of Manuela, Chabela and Huanakava does not seem much of a fee for the rescue, shelter and food.
–For God's sake, Saurno I have comrades. Why are not they suitable for this?
–The Kichak are proud, they do not let their women spread for any man. They need fresh blood, but depravity is not allowed by the gods – Saurno raised his chin and tottered out.
At his last words Dybal coughed, choked and whispered to Whitehouse:
– The first thing I"m going to do when I return to Mac Clellan is call Deborah and tell her what her husband was doing in his working hours in Magdalena village.
– Screw you ... – suddenly angrily said Whitehouse and concentrated on roasting the pig under a spicy sauce of eggplant and garlic.
Totally drunk Aydem walked in a circle of dancers, looking somewhat like a heron or a chicken, keeping balance with difficulty so as not to fall down.
Mackliff was asleep: his face buried in Aguilar"s shoulder, muttering something and driving away unseen flies.
***
– No one can keep you in Magdalena, Big Alien. It is a pity. But you do not have to stay here; at least we'll all be praying Baurahirta for this. We like you. But a couple of sleepless nights in my humble home, alternately in hammocks of Manuela, Chabela and Huanakava does not seem much of a fee for the rescue, shelter and food.
–For God's sake, Saurno I have comrades. Why are not they suitable for this?
–The Kichak are proud, they do not let their women spread for any man. They need fresh blood, but depravity is not allowed by the gods – Saurno raised his chin and tottered out.
At his last words Dybal coughed, choked and whispered to Whitehouse:
– The first thing I"m going to do when I return to Mac Clellan is call Deborah and tell her what her husband was doing in his working hours in Magdalena village.
– Screw you ... – suddenly angrily said Whitehouse and concentrated on roasting the pig under a spicy sauce of eggplant and garlic.
Totally drunk Aydem walked in a circle of dancers, looking somewhat like a heron or a chicken, keeping balance with difficulty so as not to fall down.
Mackliff was asleep: his face buried in Aguilar"s shoulder, muttering something and driving away unseen flies.
11.
– That"s right. But if you're all so smart, then tell me – the old martinet – how is this BIG base being supplied and where are its emissions, why had not anyone seen its outside patrols, as well as its air intake ventilation systems – Colonel of the German Raumvaffe, Manfred von Conrad, treading on Mackliff"s hills, went on with his well-structured logical attack – and I cannot understand why the base has not yet been detected by the PPI system? (*PPI – plan-position indicator system)
Mackliff kept silent, he was angry, knowing that Colonel"s tedious arguments were clear and logical: "Oh God, what if it really is not the SAU or the BIG base? But who kills the Kichak and Matelones then? Is it some evil spirit, some kind of Uamioyasos? '.
Flight engineer tried to drive away these thoughts quickly and concentrated on walking.
They walked in a chain through the raw jungle, stepping over fallen trees, pushing, and sometimes cutting through the brush.
Ahead was Saurno Santo, the only Kichak, who offered them to show the way to the Aborning Rocks Canyon. In the morning, before they hit the road, accompanied by the lamentations of his wife and daughters, he brushed the gun and painted his face in white and red stripes and zigzags with ocher mixed in egg white.
All of a sudden the Indian stopped, froze with a machete poised over the head, with which he was about to strike a ball of rotten vines blocking the way.
He turned his tense face covered in war paint to Mackliff and poked with a wide blade somewhere in front of him:
– There's something there.
Mackliff raised his hand, and they all stood still, bristling all around with rifles of different caliber.
– I must have been mistaken – the Indian squatted wearily, slowly looking around; his eyes on the foliage of subtropical thicket as if trying to penetrate deep into it with his gaze.
The others caught up with them, in the same order as they have left: Aydem with tow coils on his shoulders and a bag of climbing casing; Dybal carrying a bulky backpack with food and Whitehouse with hanging head to toe pouches of ammunition, signal pistols, trotyl blocks and smoke boxes – all that he managed to gather in Magdalena, including a pound of the most powerful explosive gelatin RO-1000.
Dybal bent forward to their guide, leaning against the trunk of an automatic rifle:
–Are we keeping to the road, which Rodriguez and Miaurso were talking about?
– No. We can"t use the same route twice. Especially if Uamioyasos has taken the last traveler who went that way. – Saurno closed his eyes, – Now we go to the right. I remembered. Ahead lies the place where five matilones have been killed a year ago. Their skeletons are still there.
We will go to the ridge, where the El Coyote becomes a waterfall.
–Saurno, Aguilar told me that down the waterfall only mountain goats would be able to descend. There is a steep slope – Dybal signaled the others not to settle for rest, – Moreover, we do not have much time left before the sunset.
You can do as you wish, alien, but Saurno wants you to be left alive. Yes, there is a cliff at the Transparent Spit, and the stone flies down fifteen moments, but none of the hunters have died there.
– Well, Saurno. Lead us to the Transparent Spit. The party followed their guide.
Boots sank into the yielding soil, moist and soft, like volcanic ash.
Above their heads, in the branches of orange trees, in the thicket of unbearably – spiky acacia, parrots were crying, drowning trills of canaries and orioles, bee-eaters were scampering about, curious but cautious monkeys uselessly fussed.
Sometimes they came across strange swampy areas and the walking churned stinky plant film with their soles, or a road was blocked by chestnuts standing trunk to trunk with ivy twined over them and they had to tediously cut through them for a long time, scattering spiders and snakes.
Once they came upon a simple cross made of ayama twigs, bound with a bit of string.
Indian lingered over the cross:
– Here three years ago, a lost boy saw a transparent man. Perhaps it was one of the souls of Uamioyasos.
It was getting dark.
The meager light coming under the tree arches became so weak that Whitehouse, trailing the group, could no longer distinguish Mackliff"s back against the black foliage. Buzzing of mosquitoes became louder, more insistent, and through the luscious scent of gardenias and begonias, in the hubbub of the asleep forest they could hear sharp crying of night birds.
Several times Saurno stopped them with a wave of his hand:
"Jaguar is on the loose. We will not disturb him. "
The loud, steady sound of water could be heard nearby.
Mold and white pancakes of fungi emerged in abundance on the trunks.
Moss beneath the feet became softer, larger.
The waterfall was not more than half a mile away, when a flock of frightened wild pigeons flushed to their right in the night sky.
Saurno crossed himself quickly and unlocked the rifle:
–Birds. Uamioyasos came after us. Dybal laughed nervously:
–If this is the spirit of rocks, then why is the shutter cocked on your rifle, in this case it won"t help anyway, – he moved his compact "Sturmgewehr-543" back to his chest – but it seems to me that your Uamioyasos would not have scared the birds. He's not breaking through the thicket like a pig. He's a spirit.
– It's true – the hunter agreed with relief and then crossed again.
All except hesitating Whitehouse were already on their hunkers, leaning against the wet tree trunks, and staring into darkness, trying to catch something, anything, other than the suspicious silence of the jungle.
Groaning, cursing all South America, from Panama to Cape Horn under his breath and rattling something metallic in his bag, Whitehouse settled under a high bush of orchids plucking out the revolver from his pocket.
After a long night spent with Saurno"s daughters, he moved and thought a bit slowly. Moreover, the weight of ammunition made him very noisy.
Suddenly, something squealed, leaves fell, and the pilot"s cap was swept to a bush of saggital fern. Sprawled on the ground Whitehouse, reached out to it, and giving a quiet whistle, stuck his finger in a little hole, right in the middle of the "NASA" title:
– Damn it! I have almost got killed!
They sat in tension for about half an hour, waiting for new shots, and looking at the vague shapes of the surrounding trees through the upper ribs.
Sweat rolled down their cheeks, bent legs got heavy from rushing blood and their hearts pounded so loudly that it seemed that they could be heard a mile away.
Saurno Santo was visibly nervous: he kept pulling the slider of a thermal sight:
– Cowardly matilones. All they can is to shoot on the sly, with a silencer and a night sight. If only my eye would work...
New screeching of invisible bullet ended with a blunt blow to the willow trunk, under which sat the colonel. It flew, scattering the core all around. Nearby, a branch snapped. There was a vague rustling. He slowly moved along the chain of a lurking squad.
– I see! I can see you! – Suddenly yelled the Indian and predatorily pressed his face against the rubber eyepiece of the sight, and began firing into the darkness.
Tense silence exploded with a roar of variegated weapons. In the direction in which the guide was shooting, they were sending clip after clip; from the stomach, without aiming, because there was nowhere to aim.
The green as if cut into pieces with giant secateurs perplexedly fell down in a prancing glow of automatic fire. A stifling cloud of gunpowder smoke has formed in the area...
After a few minutes of crazed shooting, they suddenly realized that no one shot back. Ahead in the moonlight they saw a space of split, gnawed stems, finely crumbled barks and broken branches over which slowly circled and fell, bits of flower petals and small leaves.
Whitehouse launched two consecutive flares.
They flashed into dazzling white dots, and, dropping sparks, hung over the forest.
Saurno began moving slowly, very slowly, amidst this devastation.
– I have a feeling that we have missed, quietly said Von Conrad, wonderingly touching the hot barrel of his automatic rifle.
–And where were we supposed to aim? – Dybal spat angrily and started searching for a hunting knife he had dropped in the grass. – I doubt that superstitious Indians would go to the Canyon at night. Not counting Saurno, of course. He is almost Ronald"s relative now...
The wind carried away the missile parachutes to the tops of high chestnuts, where they died out. Whitehouse wanted to launch the second pair, but saw that the Indian has returned:
– There were three of them. They came from the north-west. We have wounded one. I saw a lot of blood. This is strange...
– What is strange? – Wondered Dybal– That we have wounded one? Poor fellow, that matilones.
– It is strange that they attacked us. There were six of us, and only the three of them. It is not in the nature of matilones. I think they weren"t shooting at us. They were shooting at someone else. But I did not find other people's tracks – the Indian paused, clenching the amulet in his fist. – I found a severed finger. When matilones want to drive away the spirit of death, they cut off the little finger and hang it on the bush.
–What do you mean "didn"t shoot at us"! Ronald"s head has almost been blown up. What if the SAU soldiers are here somewhere?
–Exactly. That means there is still a base in the valley – the approaching Mackliff shook the rifle. – All right, we'll show them.
Von Conrad smiled ironically:
–If this had been the security of the base we would not have been left alive.
–I do not know about the security, but we must vanish away from here. And soon, – concluded Mackliff looking expectantly at the Indian. Now they were going in a tight group, stopping frequently, allowing Saurno to listen to the breath of the forest, and look around with the all-seeing eye of an infrared sight.
The small troop scattered in a chain in front of a suspicious bush, and hunkered; trying to examine every branch, every snag, in case it would swing, or a strange shadow would creep along.
–The waterfall. Rather, what the Kichak called the Transparent Spit Fall.
A modest but noisy stream, falling in some places from hollows carved in giant boulders. Echo multiplied and repeated its sound that wandered between the sheer basalt cliffs, turning into a threatening, monotonous roar.
The moon, free from the clouds cast sharp, short shadows on the terrain of a distanced bottom of the Aborning Rocks Canyon and on the faces of people looking into it.
–That"s it. I can"t go any further. Uamioyasos will not forgive my family and all the Kichak for that – Saurno said softly, standing over the abyss. – I'm leaving.
–Hell, Saurno, how are we going to come back without you? – said the navigator, irritated.
–Will come back? – The guide turned his puzzled face to him. – You are alive because someone is standing up for you. Downstairs no angel will help you. The spirit of the mountains rules there. You should not, you cannot go back.
–Saurno, wait for us tomorrow noon at the glade of three intergrown chestnuts. – Dybal said, trying to avoid the mournful stare of the guide.
– Good. I'll be there at noon. May God Januarius and the spirit of St. Siedomenis protect you.
– Damned kamikaze, Shiite bombers – Whitehouse grumbled, sliding down, barely holding onto the rope knots tied every two feet.
Narrow straps of the backpack which was stuffed with ammunition, cut into his shoulders, and a bag with explosive gelatin rubbed the neck. – Imagine what noise I"m going to make, if I fall down with this thing.
Aydem, the first who came down, was holding the lower end of the rope so that Whitehouse would not swing in the wind, but he still rocked like a heavy pendulum, knocking either the knee, or the elbow against the protruding rocks.
Splashes from the waterfall were in the air.
Sweaty palms slipped on the soaked rope.
The descent seemed endless.
–What"s taking you so long, Ronnie – said Aydem, pulling the dancing rope again, Mackliff has started to come down. – Apparently you liked hanging out in pitch darkness above the exotic places.
– Jokes aside, Dick. I"m in low spirits. Instead of the post-flight rest in Mc Clellan we have to climb the mountains and expose our heads to the bullets of crazy Indians. Or maybe not the Indians – there is no making head or tail of it – Astronaut nestled by a mossy boulder, dropped the hated backpack and took a sip of pumpkin juice with some powder which Saurno had mixed in Magdalena, claiming that it was the vigor root. – Ugh, hell! Damn Kichak spoiled the juice. There"s only pepper... Dick, tell me if you want to change.
–Relax, Ronnie.
Whitehouse sat helplessly rubbing his watery eyes, swallowing the bitter saliva with difficulty. But a minute later his condition improved, his head cleared, he felt lightness in his body.
Saurno"s drink was not so bad, after all.
He engaged in sorting the remaining ammunition.
Something was bothering him, and he kept turning his head, peering into scattered rocks, into flecks of El Coyote – he could feel a subtle presence.
– Here take a sip: it's a rare pick-me-up. – Whitehouse gave the jar to descended Mackliff.
–Why are you so overwrought, as if you have been cheated on one hundred dollars? – Mackliff drank the juice and made a face. – Ugh, how disgusting.
You know, John, there is something strange going on.
–What a surprise. It was clear from the start. There is some strange vibration. I can feel in my legs. Here, put your ear to any stone – said Mackliff.
Whitehouse clung to a boulder on which he was sitting:
–Jeez, you are right! When I visited my brother"s mines in Pennsylvania, there was the same noise when a tunneling shield was on.
– Why are you yelling, it is not a baseball game. – Manfred von Conrad came down.
– This vibration, as if a 40-tonne "Caterpillar" works underground. – Is That it? And what about the distant roar? It's not a waterfall – Colonel paused, turning his grey head from side to side.
– My gut tells me, it's the Arabs – Mackliff loaded his rifle grenade launcher and nestled it between his knees.
– What a bore you are, John. You keep talking about the Arabs – interfered Dybal. He jumped onto the rocks near Aydem, hung on a rope with all his weight and jerked it.
The rope untied from the hook on top, and fell down on the heads of the astronauts, writhing like a snake.
Whitehouse, taking its coils off his neck, grunted unhappily:
–When I was a Boy Scout, they used to deprive of all the badges for such things.
For a while the astronauts sat in silence.
***
Sheer cliffs towered over them, dimly lit by the moonlight; watery dust from the falls was in the air, wind howled as if in a wind tunnel of the Mountain View proving ground. They were cut off from their world, a world where the lights of MCC Canaveral remote control were flashing, technicians fussed by the launch ducts at Mc Clellen landfill; and in a smoky, cozy cellar of 79th Avenue in New York, lame Campbell carried the mugs of dark beer and snow-white froth flew down in flakes on the shoes of dancing couples.
Right now they were silently chewing spicy millet flour crackers and trembled every time they heard sharp wing-claps of bats that nested in numerous caves.
They still had a chance to go back, put steel grapnels on their feet and climb to the top. They could still find Saurno and promise him a mountain of gold and a forester mortar thus talking him into a walking tour from Panama, through Honduras and Guatemala to Mexico, hiding in the jungle from the SAU commandos. But no one even thought of doing it.
–Well, then, guys. Either we are standing above a volcanic activity zone or this is some kind of an object. But a strange object. There are no barbed wires, no mined areas, no roadway. No protection and outdoor surveillance systems.
No air conditioning vents. The object is somewhere close, but we didn't get into trouble yet. Except for Matilones – the Colonel was thoughtful for a while and was just about to light a cigar, but came to his senses and put it back in his sleeve pocket – Either we are still far from their vital centers, entrances, air shafts, antennas, etc., or we have jumped to conclusions. In any case, now we have only one way to go: along the creek. I consider it appropriate to assign an implicit commander. We have to be well organized to fight against whatever it is that lays ahead. Otherwise we will die for nothing.
–Aydem should be our commander – said Whitehouse.
–To be honest, guys, I know little about the land tactics – smiled Aydem. – I am more of a pilot, an astronaut.
–And I'm good at any tactics: underground, on-land, on-water, – Mackliff said with excitement. I have a medal for Istanbul.
–So what, John? Whitehouse also has a medal for Istanbul. He even took the commandos courses. True, Ronnie? – Dybal intervened.
–Stop bragging, guys, you are not at a show. John you can only box at the ring with a temper of yours. You are the first to go ahead and do something stupid. – Aydem suddenly became serious. – We will be commanded by Manfred. He is the most experienced among us.
– I agree– mumbled Mackliff. Dybal pulled his hand up as if ready to answer:
–May I be the chief of staff?
–Don't be a fool, Al. That's not the time to scoff; – Whitehouse put his finger to the temple and started filling the spare magazines for his rifle.
–Hey, what's that? – Mackliff said in a choking voice, pointing at a dark lofty grotto a few hundred yards away from the Falls.
Astronauts jumped up from their seats and scattered, dissolving among the boulders.
All that was left on the sand of El Coyote stream is a ribbed footprint of the twenty-ninth size, which was slowly being washed away.
A cloud of dust rose from the grotto.
They could clearly see as it swirled, spread and fell down on the background of illuminated rocks. The hum and the vibration increased.
Whitehouse has even opened his mouth, so as not to crush his teeth:
–The last thing we need is to be covered with a landslide.
–I will get closer – Mackliff rose from behind a rock, but von Conrad managed to hold him by the belt of his jumpsuit:
– Do not move. Or you will destroy us.
A deafening screeching sound could be heard above the Canyon: as if an aircraft carrier scraped the coastal reefs with its bottom. Something squealed hysterically and then burst, and a pile of stones showed in the grotto, pushed out by something extremely powerful.
Astronauts thought they were dreaming, because the stones were transparent as a soap film.
No doubt these were pieces of rock.
They roared, rolled, scattered and with hot hissing flopped into the creek.
They had a shape, and casted shadows, but, it seemed they had no substance; they were there, and at the same time they were not.
A turn of the Canyon could be seen clearly through this strange placer as well as low niches in the weathered basalt, and bats rushing about in panic.
Finally, against the background of the illuminated rock showed the thing which set this mountain of rubble in motion: impalpable as a ghost.
Strings of blue lights as if short-circuited sometimes ran along the bent outline, which had covered the hiding people with a huge shadow.
Whitehouse finished the contents of Saurno"s flask in one gulp and carefully crawled to Aydem:
–Can you see him, Dick?
–Whom should I be seeing?
– Uamioyasos.
– You have lost your mind. That is a machine; a superbly camouflaged mechanism. And the formation is treated with something. You can put me on electric chair if it is not an excavator; – softly said Aydem and waved to the colonel who was giving them some signs. – Ok, let's go slowly along the cliff.
–What if it is a tank? – Asked Whitehouse afterwards and was somehow ashamed of his own words. Ah, damn Islamists, see what they have invented. Found themselves a soft spot. Well, now we will have to disturb them.
Meandering like a giant lizard Whitehouse crawled right after Aydem. A little to the right, behind the basalt boulders gleamed with dull light a barrel of a grenade launcher.
That was Mackliff walking there.
On the other side of the stream two shadows were moving gently: the Colonel and Dybal.
Meanwhile the machine has finished pushing the stones to the opposite wall of the Canyon, and having reversed, hid in the cave.
– I think we're going to be late for the party, – Whitehouse muttered under his breath, and in short dashes began to cross the space in front of the grotto.
Blood hammered in his temples, throat burned from the Indian beverage, a stone, which God knows how has gotten in his shoe made the ankle unbearably sore, but the mind was clearly focused on the only important thing: the entrance to the grotto. Astronauts were now openly running, knowing that if the Canyon was under security, they have been already noticed.
They knew perfectly well what might follow: quietly humming with electric motors the small hatches painted in basalt color would slide aside; and the computer sights would seize the figures of attackers in a death grip; they would be in the loop of heavy machine guns and napalm bazookas, and people would first turn into flying chunks of flesh and bones, blood splashing fountains, and then into burning lumps.
They were ready for it; and they hastened, trying to pass this dangerous place as fast as possible.
Mackliff rushed forward like a madman.
It seemed to him that he was tearing to the machine-gun spots of the BIT paratroopers having just fallen out of a burning armored troop-carrier that had been disabled by the Arab artillery from the left bank of Kaрэthane; the Beyoрlu area is on fire, his lieutenant's suit is emitting smoke...
He was the first to dash into the echoing arches of the cave, turned a somersault over the elbow just in case and rolled to a smooth wall, putting his finger on a trigger of the grenade launcher.
Ahead he expected to see anything: barrels of automatic guns, streams of napalm rushing in the face, a cloud of poison, but there was nothing but buzzing void in front of him.
Whitehouse stumbled over his foot and fell down:
–Strike me dead, if I see something in this darkness. Well, what have you got here?
– Silence.
– Go on, forward, it"s not the time to sprawl! – Von Conrad rushed past them with a roar. – Hurry!
Aydem quickly moved behind the colonel, ignoring the fact that his foot which stepped on the invisible stones, was a foot away from the visible foothold.
Dybal moved in small dashes, crouching and taking short steps like a ninja.
Mackliff and Whitehouse rushed after them.
They have been running blindly for a long time, turning into the side tunnels, at times narrow or wide, but with equally smooth walls, that looked as if they were polished.
Bundles of wires and cables were stretched along the walls, orange lamps glowed darkly.
Sometimes they came across tablets that resembled signs with cryptic symbols, small boxes, winking with colored lights, little devices, looking like optical sensors.
Mackliff crushed the panels and optics with a butt and his feet, leaving showers of sparks and stink of burning insulation behind him.
After a few minutes of a crazy race, astronauts have burst into a huge hall, the high vault of which was supported by basalt columns that were left after the excavation of rocks. Huge machines with protruding bucket type units resembling the mouths of insects stood between the columns.
Steel-gray streamlined bodies had no hint of seams, rivets, levers or control panels. No lugs.
They were smooth, as if casted.
– Whoa! Look at these toys! – Dybal was just going to open his mouth but Aydem tugged at his sleeve:
– Shut up.
Distinct steps could be heard somewhere above their heads; not even steps, rather some average sound between a rolling over empty gasoline barrel, and a howl of two-handled saw, when it is scraped with a nail.
A small metal cylinder slid down a flat ramp to the illuminated area between the machines; effortlessly took a vertical position, and barely touching the floor, drifted towards one of the large objects.
The machine met it with an opening in its armor, where the cylinder inserted a device similar to a computer joint.
The lights of the cylinder were flashing for some time, apparently demanding something from the machine, but it did not respond. The cylinder repeated its attempts for a while and then drove to the closet, in which the bundles of cables and wires were gathered.
