Fantastic Stories Presents: Science Fiction Super Pack #1. Рэй Брэдбери

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      “Jeff, listen to me,” Tim ordered.

      “Oh my God, I’m not slowing down. What do I do?” Jeff yelled, flailing his arms about.

      “Calm down, damn it, calm down! All you need to do is put the jet pack on.”

      Jeff tried to do this, but the jet pack went spinning away as he cleared the lip of the crater.

      “How long until he lands?” Hank asked.

      “Never,” was Tim’s reply. “This asteroid doesn’t have enough gravity.” Tim quickly subvocalized the order for his helmet transceiver to switch to his long range channel. “Toshiba Base, This is Ross. Come in please.”

      “Ross, this is Base. What can I do for you?”

      “One of my climbers just jumped. I need help.”

      “How bad was he hurt in the fall?”

      “He didn’t jump down, he jumped up!”

      “Oh my God. How long ago?”

      “Less than a minute.”

      “Let me see if I can get him on radar. Got him. He’s not very far from the crater. At his present speed and vector, he’ll be off our radar screen in about three minutes. If you don’t get to him, no one ever will. I can direct you.”

      “The jumper lost my jet pack when he jumped.”

      “Was he trying to kill himself?”

      “No. I’ve got to talk with the rest of my climbers, I’ll be right back, Ross out.” Tim quickly switched back to his short range channel. Hank was just pulling Luke in.

      “What do we do now?” Luke asked as he tethered himself to the line.

      Tim looked around quickly, picked up the piton gun and drove a piton into the ground, then he tied off one end of the unused climbing rope to it and clipped the other end into his harness’ clasp. “When the rope becomes taut, pull me in.”

      Hank and Luke nodded.

      Tim clicked the piton gun’s sleeve into place, over the holes in the barrel, and jumped. He went quickly forward, praying that his idea would work. Tim put the piton gun between his legs facing down and fired. The piton flew out, and he sped up. “Thank you, God,” he whispered, firing off three more pitons.

      This is crazy, Tim thought, as he sped into space. I should be in bed with Sam right now, not jumping off after some stupid tourist. What if the piton doesn’t hold when I reach the end of the rope? I might never see Sam again. Sam . . .

      *

      Tim tore himself away from his introspection and contacted Toshiba Base. “How is my vector compared to the jumper’s?”

      “He’s off to your right and behind you.”

      Tim fired another piton. “How am I doing now?”

      “You’ve matched his upwards trajectory, but he’s still behind you.”

      It took three more adjustments before Tim got it. Once he had the trajectory right there was nothing to do but wait.

      “Tim, this is Base, you’ve passed out of radar range. We can’t do anything else for you.”

      Tim looked up. He could just make out what he prayed was Jeff. “Base, I think I can see him now. As long as my rope holds out everything should be okay. I’m going to switch channels now.”

      “Sure thing, and, Tim, good luck.”

      “Thanks.”

      When Tim switched channels, Jeff’s voice, screaming unintelligibly, accosted him. “Jeff, can you hear me? This is Tim Ross, I’m right under you and gaining.”

      Jeff stopped screaming and moaned.

      “Jeff, I need your help, buddy. I’m going to try to catch you as I pass. If you can reach out for me, that would help a lot.” Jeff didn’t reply. Must be in shock, Tim decided. I’m not going to get any help from him.

      Tim reached for Jeff and tried to pull him in. It didn’t work, Jeff and Tim went off in different directions. Oh shit, now what? Just in time, Tim remembered the grappling hook. He fitted it into the piton gun and fired. Tim was a good shot and he’d made much harder shots than this one, but none of them had been this important. The force of the shot sent him backwards; he did a full revolution before he saw that the hook had hit home. He said a silent prayer of thanks and reeled Jeff in.

      Clipping Jeff onto the harness Tim said, “You’re going to be okay, buddy. We’re going to make it.”

      Jeff wasn’t capable of answering.

      Suddenly, Tim felt the rope become taut. He held his breath for a moment and didn’t let it out until he and Jeff started back towards the asteroid. The rope had held, everything was all right.

      Tim switched channels. “Toshiba Base, this is Ross.”

      “Ross, how are you doing?”

      “I’ve got the jumper and we’re being reeled in now. I’m going to need a medical team. The jumper’s in shock.”

      “There’s already one on the way. Sam’s here and would like to talk with you.”

      “Put her on.”

      “Tim, are you okay?”

      “Sam, I’m better than okay, I’m ready to go home.”

      YOUTH

      by Isaac Asimov

      I

      Red and Slim found the two strange little animals the morning after they heard the thunder sounds. They knew that they could never show their new pets to their parents.

      There was a spatter of pebbles against the window and the youngster stirred in his sleep. Another, and he was awake.

      He sat up stiffly in bed. Seconds passed while he interpreted his strange surroundings. He wasn’t in his own home, of course. This was out in the country. It was colder than it should be and there was green at the window.

      “Slim!”

      The call was a hoarse, urgent whisper, and the youngster bounded to the open window.

      Slim wasn’t his real name, but the new friend he had met the day before had needed only one look at his slight figure to say, “You’re Slim.” He added, “I’m Red.”

      Red wasn’t his real name, either, but its appropriateness was obvious. They were friends instantly with the quick unquestioning СКАЧАТЬ