[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

bridge. The man, who walked like Kraiklyn and wore a grey cloak, was about
halfway across. Horza couldn't see much of what the terrain was like on the
other side of the dock, but guessed he stood a good chance of losing his
quarry if he let him get to the other side before he started after him.
Probably the man - Kraiklyn, if it was him - had worked this out; Horza
guessed he knew he was being followed.
He set off across the bridge. It swayed slightly underneath him. The noise and
lights of the giant hovercraft were almost underneath; the air filled with
swirling dark spray, kicked up from the shallow water in the dock. The man
didn't look round at Horza, though he must have felt Horza's footsteps
swinging the bridge with his own.
The figure left the bridge at the far end. Horza lost sight of him and started
running, the gun out in front of him, the air-cushion vehicle beneath blasting
gusts of spray-soaked air about him, soaking him. Loud music blared from the
craft, audible even through the scream of the engines. Horza skidded along the
bridge at its end and ran quickly down the spiral steps to the dockside.
Something sailed out of the darkness under the spiral of steps and crashed
into his face.
Immediately afterwards something slammed into his back and the rear of his
skull. He lay on something hard, groggily wondering what had happened, while
lights swept over him, the air in his ears roared and roared, and music played
somewhere. A bright light shone straight into his eyes, and the hood over his
face was thrown back.
He heard a gasp: the gasp of a man tearing a hood away from a face only to see
his own face staring back at him. (Who are you?) If that was what it was, then
that man was vulnerable now, shocked for just a few seconds (Who am I?). . . .
He had enough strength to kick up hard with one leg, forcing his arms up at
the same time and grabbing some material, his shin connecting with a groin.
The man started to go over Horza's shoulders, heading for the dock; then Horza
felt his own shoulders grasped, and as the man he held thumped to the ground
to one side and behind him, he was pulled over -
Over the side of the dock; the man had landed right on the edge and had gone
over, taking
Horza with him. They were falling.
He was aware of lights, than shadow, the grip he had on the man's cloak or
suit and one hand still on his shoulder. Falling: how deep was the dock? The
noise of wind. Listen for the sound of-
It was a double impact. He hit water, then something harder, in a crumpling
collision of fluid and body. It was cold, and his neck ached. He was thrashing
about, unsure which way was up, and groggy from the blows to his head; then
something pulled at him. He punched out, hit something soft, then pulled
upright and found himself standing in a little over a metre of water,
staggering forward. It was bedlam - light and sound and spray everywhere, and
somebody hanging onto him.
Horza flailed out again. Spray cleared momentarily, and he saw the wall of the
dock a couple
file:///F|/rah/Iain%20Banks/Banks,%20Iain%20-%20Consider%20Phelbas.txt (95 of
Page 128
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
206) [2/4/03 10:24:38 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Iain%20Banks/Banks,%20Iain%20-%20Consider%20Phelbas.txt of
metres to his right and, directly in front of him, the rear of the giant
hovercraft, receding slowly five or six metres ahead. A powerful gust of oily,
fiery air knocked him over, splashing into the water again. The spray closed
over him. The hand let go, and he fell back through the water once more, going
under.
Horza struggled upright in time to see his adversary heading off through the
spray, following the slowly moving hovercraft up the dock. He tried to run,
but the water was too deep; he had to force his legs forward in a slow-motion,
nightmarish version of a run, angling his torso so that his weight carried him
forward. With exaggerated twistings of his body from side to side he strode
after the man in the grey cloak, using his hands like paddles in an attempt to
gain speed. His head was reeling; his back, face and neck all hurt terribly,
and his vision was blurred, but at least he was still chasing. The man in
front seemed more anxious to get away than to stay and fight.
The blattering exhaust of the still moving hover blew another hole in the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • imuzyka.prv.pl
  •