Читать книгу The Science Fiction Anthology онлайн

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“For you, sir,” the communications man said, interrupting his reverie.

“Damn,” Extrone muttered. His face twisted in anger. “It better be important.” He took the head-set and mike and nodded to the bearer. The bearer twiddled the dials.

“Extrone. Eh?... Oh, you got their ship. Well, why in hell bother me?... All right, so they found out I was here. You got them, didn’t you?”

“Blasted them right out of space,” the voice crackled excitedly. “Right in the middle of a radio broadcast, sir.”

“I don’t want to listen to your gabbling when I’m hunting!” Extrone tore off the head-set and handed it to the bearer. “If they call back, find out what they want, first. I don’t want to be bothered unless it’s important.”

“Yes, sir.”

Extrone squinted up at the sun; his eyes crinkled under the glare, and perspiration stood in little droplets on the back of his hands.

Lin, returning to the column, threaded his way among reclining bearers. He stopped before Extrone and tossed his hair out of his eyes. “I located a spoor,” he said, suppressed eagerness in his voice. “About a quarter ahead. It looks fresh.”