Chapter 40 Chapter two

"Yeah," said Martin Silenus, lying on his back with his head resting, looking up at the sky, "did you wear a pair of shrike pants?" The captain shook his head slowly.Twilight dawned, burying his face in the shadow of his robe's hood. "Don't ignore it, and don't act like you don't know," he said. "It's time to admit to each other, what are we all carrying on this pilgrimage, right? I think people may feel that in our This thing can change the inevitable result when facing the King of Great Mourn." The poet said with a smile: "I didn't even bring my lucky rabbit legs with me."

The saint's hood moved slightly. "But perhaps you brought the manuscript?" The poet said nothing. Hite?Masteen's invisible eyes turned to the tall man on his left. "And you, Colonel, have your name on lots of boxes. Weapons, aren't they?" Kassad looked up, but said nothing. "Of course," Hett?"Going out and hunting without a weapon sounds stupid," Masteen said. "What about me?" Braun?Lamia asked, arms folded, "Do you know what secret weapon I smuggled?" The saint is unmoved. "Ms. Lamia, we haven't heard your story. It's too early for me to guess."

"What about the consul?" Lamia asked. "Oh, yes, it's obvious what weapons our diplomat friend is hiding." The Consul turned away and watched the sunset. "I only brought clothes and two books." He answered truthfully. "Ah," sighed the Saint, "but what a beautiful ship you left behind." Martin Silenus jumped to his feet. "Fucking spaceship!" he yelled. "You can call the spaceship, can't you? Oh, damn it, whistle your dog, I'm getting sick of it." The Consul tore off a bunch of grass and peeled it.After a minute he said:

"Even if I call the spaceship... You heard what Betik said, the communication satellites and relay stations are paralyzed... Even if I call the spaceship, we can't directly land at the northern foot of the Bridle Mountain Range. If we land there, disaster will happen." It's coming right away, without even waiting for the Shrike to come south of the mountains." "Yes," said Silenus, waving his arms and legs excitedly, "but we can get over the damn... grass! Call the spaceship." "Let's talk about it in the morning," said the consul. "If the wind transport ship doesn't come in the morning, then we'll find another way."

"Go away..." the poet began, but Kassad stood up and pulled him away from the circle where everyone was sitting. "Mr. Masteen," said the colonel to the saint, "what is your own secret?" The dim light of the evening sky clearly showed a smile on the other's thin lips.He pointed to the pile of luggage. "As you can see, my chest is the heaviest and the most mysterious." "It's a Möbius cube," said Father Hoyt. "I've seen ancient prehistoric fetishes transported in that." "Either a thermonuclear bomb?" Kassad said.

Hite?Masteen shook his head. "It's not that violent," he said. "Are you going to tell us?" Lamia asked. "I'll tell you when it's my turn." "Are you next?" the consul asked. "We can listen to you now while we wait for the boat." Sol Winterberg cleared his throat. "I've drawn number four," he said, showing the slip of paper, "but I'd be more than happy to trade with the loyal voice of the giant tree." Winterberg moved Rachel from left shoulder to right shoulder, gently Patted her on the back. Hite?Masteen shook his head. "No, there will be time. I just want to tell everyone that there is always hope out of despair. So far, we have learned a lot through stories. Each of us carries a seed of hope, although They're buried very deep."

"I don't know..." Father Hoyt began, but Martin Silenus cut him off with a cry. "It's a ship! Fucking wind transport. At last!" Twenty minutes later, the wind transport ship berthed at the pier.The boat was coming from the north, her square white sails against the black steppe that was losing all color.The huge transport came towards the low cliff, its mainsail folded, and with a final shake, it came to a halt.At this time, the last ray of light also faded sadly. The Consul was stunned by the sight before him.It was a wooden ship, hand-built, and enormous—curved, with inventive lines, like the old sailing ships of Old Land history.The huge single wheel, which sat amidships the curving hull, was normally invisible in the two-meter tall grass, but the Consul caught a glimpse of the bottom of the boat as he carried his luggage to the pier.From the flat ground to the railing, the height is six to seven meters, and if counted to the top of the mainmast, the height can reach five times.Standing here, the Consul was out of breath, and he could hear the crackle of the signal flag aloft, and a steady, almost subsonic hum that might have come from the flywheel inside the hull. , may also come from its huge gyroscope.

A step protrudes from the boarding deck and is lowered onto the dock.Father Hoyt and Braun?Lamia had to back away immediately or be crushed. The wind-carrier lacked even more lights than the Benares; the light seemed to be only a few lanterns hanging from the masts.When they approached the transport ship, they didn't see a single crew member, and now, no one appeared in front of them. "Is anyone there!" the Consul called up from the bottom of the tread.No one answered. "You wait here," Kassad said, and took five steps up the long slope. The others watched as Kassad paused atop, touched the small death stick strapped to his belt, and disappeared amidships.A few minutes later there was a sudden flash of light in the wide windows aft, casting yellow quadrilaterals on the grass below.

"Come on," Kassad called from the top of the ramp, "the boat is empty." The group of people struggled forward with their luggage and stumbled several times on the way.Consul to help Hite?Masteen moved the heavy Moebius cube together, and his fingertips felt a strong vibration slightly. "I said, where the hell did the crew go?" Martin Silenus asked as they assembled on the foredeck.They had completed their visit in file, through corridors, down stairs, but more of ladders, and through cabins, which were not much larger than the fixed beds inside.Only the aft cabin—the captain's cabin, if that was the case—was about the size and comfort of a standard berth on the Benares.

"The ship was clearly autonomous," Kassad said.The corps officer pointed to the halyards, which disappeared into the slits of the deck, but no operator was to be seen between the rigging and the masts, or beside the mizzenmast with the spinnaker. "I didn't even see the control center," Lamia said, "not even the touch display and control nodes." She took the comlog out of her breast pocket and tried to connect to the standard data, comm ports, and biome frequency.But nothing happened on board. "There used to be crews," said the consul. "The new members of the temple used to go with the pilgrims to the mountains."

"Now, they're gone," Hoyt said, "but I think we can assume there must be someone still alive at the Tramway, or at the Fortress of Time. They sent the ship." “Or everyone is dead and the wind transport is running on its own schedule,” Lamia said.A sudden gust of wind creaked the rigging and sails, and she turned to look. "Damn, being out of touch with everyone and everything is giving me goosebumps. Seems deaf and blind. I don't know how the colonists can stand it." Martin Silenus walked toward the group and sat on the railing.He was drinking from a long green bottle, and then chanted: "Where is the poet? Tell him! Tell him, The Muse is in my hand, perhaps I know him! I am the one One who sits on an equal footing with kings, Or, the poorest of beggars, Or, anything wonderful, Sandwiched between the orangutan and Plato. I am the one One who lives with birds, The wren or the eagle, fly by instinct, he heard The lion roars and knows the meaning of his roaring voice, The tiger roared, and he could understand it, like a mother whispering clearly in his ears. " "Where did you get the wine?" Kassad asked. Martin Silenus was all smiles.In the light of the lantern his eyes looked small and bright. "The kitchen is full of goods and there's a bar in there. I've got it open." "We should get something to eat," said the consul, who wanted a bottle of wine most of all at this moment.They hadn't eaten for more than ten hours. There was a sudden clang and whoosh, and the six came to the starboard rail.The pedals have been put away.There was another whoosh, sails out, ropes taut, and somewhere a flywheel was humming ultrasonically.The sails have been spread, the deck has begun to tilt slightly, and the wind transporter has left the dock and sailed into the darkness.Now the only sounds are the crackling and creaking of the boat, the distant rumble of the wheels, the rustling of the grass on the bottom of the hull. The six watched the shadow of the cliff fall behind them, the unlit fire pile receded, the faint light of starlight sprinkled on the pale wood, and now there was nothing but the sky, the night, and the circle of lanterns swinging around up. "I'll go down below," said the Consul, "and see if I can get something to eat." The others stayed for a while, feeling a slight rumble from the soles of their feet, watching the darkness pass by.Only when some starless, dull darkness fell again did the Sea of ​​Grass appear to them.Kassad held the hand-beam and dimly illuminated the sails, rigging, and ropes that were being held tight by invisible hands, and then, walking from stern to bow, made a good inspection, Including corners and shadowy places.The others watched him silently.When he turned off the beam, the darkness seemed to become less oppressive, and the starlight became brighter.A breeze sweeps through a kilometer of grass, bringing with it a strong smell of loam—more of a farmstead in spring than of the sea.