tz.cobra strike-第15部分

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e　airport　as　the　next　best　site。
　For　Pyre；　it　was　the　most　unnerving　part　of　the　mission　thus　far。　Strapped　into　an　emergency　crash　chair　near　the　main　exit　hatchway；　far　from　any　viewports　or　inter　displays；　he　felt　more　helpless　than　a　Cobra　had　any　business　feeling。　If　the　Qasa…mans　had　any　interest　in　shooting　the　Dewdrop　down；　the　approach　glide　would　be　the　ideal　time　to　do　so。　More　so　than　the　aliens　might　think；　in　fact；　they　presumably　had　no　way　of　knowing　that　the　Dewdrop　was　a　gravity…lift；　VTOL　craft　and　that　her　crew　had　little　experience　with　the　emergency　runway　landing　procedure　Telek　had　insisted　they　use。
　But　no　one　opened　fire；　and　with　only　the　mildest　of　lurches　the　ship　touched　down。　Heaving　an　unabashed　sigh　of　relief；　Pyre　nevertheless　kept　one　eye　firmly　on　the　hatch's　inner　door　as　he　unstrapped　and　got　once　more　to　his　feet。　The　plan　was　to　wait　a　few　minutes　and　then　send　Cerenkov　outside　to　wait　for　whatever　reception　mittee　the　Qasamans　might　send。　Through　all　of　that　Pyre　and　one　of　his　Cobras　would　be　the　Dewdrop's；　only　real　defense。
　His　auditory　enhancers；　still　set　on　high　power　from　the　landing；　picked　up　Nnamdi's　gasp　from　down　the　hall　in　the　lounge。　〃My　God；　Governor。　Look！　It's…oh；　my　God”
　〃Almo！〃　Cerenkov's　voice　boomed　from　the　other　direction　an　instant　later。　〃Get　up　here！〃
　Pyre　was　already　moving；　his　hands　automatically　curving　into　fingertip　laser　firing　position　as　he　sprinted　for　the　bridge；　where　Cerenkov　had　been　for　the　landing。
　The　small　gray…tone　room　was　alive　with　color　when　he　arrived；　as　virtually　every　screen　displayed　views　of　the　city　and　surrounding　forest　outside　the　ship。　Pyre　hadn't　realized　before　then　just　how　colorful　the　city　itself　actually　was；　its　buildings　painted　with　the　same　wide　range　of　shades　as　the　forest；　as　if　in　deliberate　mimicry。　But　for　the　moment　the　〃Qasamans〃　decorative　sense　was　the　last　thing　on　his　mind。　〃What's　up？〃　he　snapped。
　Cerenkov；　standing　behind　F'ahl's　mand　chair；　pointed　a　none　too　steady　finger　at　a　telescopic　view　of　the　nearest　buildings　a　couple　of　hundred　meters　away。　〃The　Qasamans；〃　he　said　simply。
　Pyre　stared　at　the　screen。　Six　figures　were　indeed　heading　in　the　Dewdrop's　direction；　each　with　the　bulge　of　a　sidearm　at　one　side　and　something　that　seemed　to　be　a　small　bird　perched　on　the　opposite　shoulder。　Six　figures…
　As　human　as　anyone　aboard　the　Dewdrop。
　
　
　Chapter　8
　
　For　a　long　minute　Pyre　just　stood　there；　brain　struggling　mightily　to　reconcile　what　his　eyes　showed　him　with　the　sheer　impossibility　of　it　all。　Humans　here？…over　a　hundred　and　fifty　light…years　from　the　nearest　world　of　the　Dominion　of　Man？　And　past　the　Troft　Assemblage；　to　boot？
　Back　in　the　lounge；　someone　cleared　his　throat；　a　raspy　sound　in　the　bridge　inter　speaker。　〃So　you　say　we've　all　been　thinking　too　anthropomorphically；　Governor？〃　Nnamdi　said　with　exaggerated　casualness。
　For　once；　it　seemed；　Telek　was　at　a　loss　for　words。　A　moment　later　Nnamdi　continued；　〃At　least　now　we　know　for　sure　the　Baliu　demesne　didn't　have　much　to　do　with　the　Troft…Dominion　War。　They　could　hardly　have　failed　to　mention　that　the　Qasamans　were　the　same　species　as　we　were。〃
　〃This　is　impossible；〃　York　growled。　〃Humans　can't　be　here。　They　just　can't。〃
　〃All　right；　they　can't；〃　Christopher　spoke　up。　〃Shall　we　go　out　and　tell　them　that？〃
　〃Maybe　they're　an　illusion　of　some　kind；〃　Joshua　suggested　from　the　twins〃　room。　〃Controlled　psychic　hallucination　or　something。〃
　〃I　don't　believe　in　that　sort　of　thing；　either；〃　York　snapped。
　　〃Besides；〃　F'ahl　added；　touching　some　controls；　〃if　they're　an　illusion　they're　a　mighty　substantial　one。　Short…radar's　picking　them　up　with　no　trouble　and　confirms　shape。〃
　〃Maybe　they're　the　slaves　of　the　real　Qasamans；〃　Cerenkov　suggested。　〃Descendents　of　people　kidnapped　from　Earth　centuries　ago。　Regardless；　Governor；　we've　got　to　go　out　there　and　meet　them。〃
　Telek　hissed　between　her　teeth；　finally　seeming　to　find　her　voice。　〃Captain；　what's　the　analyzer　showing？〃
　〃Nothing　inimical　so　far；〃　F'ahl　reported；　running　a　finger　down　one　of　the　few　displays　not　showing　an　outside　view。　〃Oxygen；　nitrogen；　carbon　dioxide；　and　other　trace　gasses　in　acceptable　amounts。　Uh　。。。　no　evidence　of　unusual　radioactive　or　heavy…metal　contamination。　Bacteria　analysis　has　barely　gotten　started；　but　so　far　no　problems…puter　shows　similar　DNA　and　protein　structures　in　the　ones　it's　analyzed；　but　doesn't　show　any　health　hazards　from　them；〃
　〃Hmmm。　Well；　I'll　want　to　check　that　data　over　myself　later；　but　if　the　Aventine　pattern　holds　here　microbes　probably　won't　be　a　big　problem。　All　right；　Yuri；　I　guess　you　can　go　out。　But　you'd　better　wear　a　filter　bubble；　to　be　on　the　safe　side。　The　number　two　should　be　adequate　unless　Qasanan　viruses　e　a　lot　smaller　than　ours。〃
　〃Right。〃　Cerenkov　hesitated。　〃Governor；　as　long　as　we've　got　a　reception　mittee　on　its　way；　I'd　like　to　take　my　whole　team　out　with　me。〃
　The　six　Qasamans　were　almost　to　the　ship　now。　Pyre　watched　the　magnified　view；　his　eyes　shifting　from　the　details　of　the　faces　to　the　silver…blue　birds　perched　on　each　person's　left　shoulder　to　the　pistols　belted　on　each　hip。　〃Governor；　I'd　remend　we　let　Yuri　go　alone　first；〃　he　said。
　〃No；　he's　right…we　ought　to　show　good　faith；〃　Telek　said　with　a　sigh。
　Cerenkov　didn't　wait　any　longer。　〃Marck；　Decker；　Joshua…meet　me　at　the　dock　with　full　gear。〃　He　got　three　acknowledgments　and　hurried　out　of　the　bridge。
　〃Almo？〃　Teiek　called　as　Pyre　turned　to　follow。　〃I　want　you　back　here　for　this。〃
　Pyre　grimaced；　but　there　wasn't　time　to　argue　the　order　now。　〃Michael；　Dorjay…back　up　positions　by　the　hatch；〃　he　called　into　the　inter。　The　two　Cobras　acknowledged　and　Pyre　once　again　headed　aft。
　He　passed　the　furious　activity　near　the　hatch　without　actually　colliding　with　anyone；　and　by　the　time　he　skidded　to　a　stop　beside　Telek；　the　lounge　displays　showed　Cerenkov　just　emerging　from　the　airlock。
　If　the　Qasamans　had　been　a　shock　to　the　Dewdrop's　passengers；　the　reverse　was　equally　true。　The　weling　mittee　jerked　raggedly　to　a　stop；　and　Pyre　saw　astonishment　and　disbelief　sweep　across　their　faces。　He　tensed；　but　the　guns　stayed　firmly　in　their　holsters。　One　of　the　birds　squawked　and　flapped　its　wings；　settling　down　only　when　its　owner　reached　up　to　gently　stroke　its　throat。
　Pyre　was　aware　of　Telek　leaning　closer　to　him。　〃Do　you　buy　Hersh's　theory　about　the　Baliuies？〃　she　murmured。
　〃That　ignorance　was　bliss？〃　he　muttered　back。　〃Not　for　a　minute。　The　Baliuies　knew　we　were　the　same　species；　all　right…and　if　we　were　supposed　to　free　human　slaves　from　the　Qasamans　they　sure　as　hell　would　have　told　us。〃
　Telek　grunted。　Nnamdi　and　Christopher；　Pyre　noted；　seemed　to　have　missed　the　by…play。　Shifting　his　own　attention　fully　to　the　displays；　the　Cobra　waited　for　the　Qasamans　to　speak；　wishing　he　knew　what　sort　of　game　the　Baliuies　were　playing。
　The　Qasaman　delegation　had　shown　a　remarkably　quick　recovery　to　the　contact　team's　appearance；　a　fact　Cerenkov　took　to　be　a　good　sign。　Whether　the　humans　were　slaves　or　masters；　it　was　clear　they　weren't　in　the　ignorant　savage　category。　Which　meant　。　。　。　what？　Cerenkov　wasn't　sure；　but　he　knew　it　was　a　good　sign　anyway。
　The　delegation　had　e　to　a　halt　now　a　couple　of　meters　in　front　of　the　contact　team。　Cerenkov　half…raised　his　right　hand；　freezing　midway　through　the　motion　as　one　of　the　birds　abruptly　ruffled　its　wings　and　emitted　a　harsh　caw。　He　waited　until　its　owner　had　calmed　it；　then　brought　his　hand　chest　high；　palm　outward。　〃I　greet　you　in　the　name　of　the　people　of　Aventine；〃　he　said。　〃We　e　to　visit　with　peaceful　intent。　I　am　Yuri　Cerenkov；　my　panions　are　Marck　Rynstadt；　Decker　York；　and　Joshua　Moreau。　Whom　do　I　have　the　honor　of　addressing？〃
　For　another　few　seconds　the　translator　pendant　around　his　neck　continued　to　talk；　and　Cerenkov　sent　a　quick　prayer　skyward　that　the　Trofts　had　indeed　put　together　a　decent　translation　program。　All　they　would　need　now　would　be　for　him　to　have　dropped　an　unintentional　insult　into　his　greeting。。。。
　But　if　the　translator　had　glitched　it　wasn't　obvious。　One　of　the　Qasamans　stepped　a　half　pace　forward；　raising　his　hand　in　im