[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
crouch. To make matters worse, the ledge, rendered almost as slick as glass by
a thin film of watery mud, began to tilt in the direction of the stream, which
was flowing much faster (and, I suspected, much deeper)
than before. Long stalactites menaced my head, and nasty little spikelike
formations underfoot
threatened to impale me if I should slip and fall.
There was also a danger of skidding into the river. At best I'd probably get a
mouth- and noseful of alien sewage; at worst, climbing out might prove
impossible, since the bank now dropped off almost perpendicularly, with the
surface of the water over a meter below. The nauseating smell combined with
the speleological hazards nearly made me turn back. Cursing, wet to the skin
from the drips that fell from the stone daggers, I toiled on wondering how any
lepido, drunk or sober, could have deliberately chosen to come through this
fucking Spike Farm.
Maybe none had...
The ledge eventually leveled out, becoming a virtual promenade over two meters
wide. The pointy-tipped rock formations also disappeared as I came into a
drier region. 1 was grateful for small favors, because the cave roof was
getting lower and lower. In fact, the passage was turning from a tunnel into a
mere crawlway.
Dropping to my hands and knees, I slithered gamely onward, carrying the
flashlight in my teeth. The space between ledge and ceiling decreased to less
than sixty centimeters and the carbine on my back rasped against the rock.
Eventually I was forced to squirm on my belly.
Above the river to my right, the clearance was even less. Then the waterway
vanished altogether. Happily, so did its stink. I kept crawling.
Until my probing fingers felt empty air ahead.
I squirmed to the edge of what I feared might be a precipice and shone the
light down. The bowl-shaped depression was less than a meter deep and about
Page 141
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
five meters wide. I gave a little yip of exultation when I spotted another of
the alien liquor flasks, lacking a stopper, among some boulders at the bottom.
On the opposite side of the cavity, a tall, very narrow crevice led deeper
into the rocks.
Way to go, Larry!
I crossed the Bowl Chamber and squeezed into the crack, praying I wouldn't get
trapped. My own bulk was less than that of a lepido, even though I was
considerably taller. If Larry had managed to get through this Needle's Eye,
then so could I.
The narrows turned out to be mercifully short. Almost immediately I found
myself in an immense subterranean room containing the most beautiful
speleothems I'd ever seen, all of the formations gleaming with moisture so
that they seemed carved from pale polished gemstone. My flashlight revealed
translucent striped draperies and ornate stalactites hanging from the ceiling.
Some of the latter extended all the way to the floor, forming elegant columns
as wide as tree trunks, adorned with dripstone fringes. They framed looming
masses resembling fantastic pipe organs, huge animals, and the shrouded
statues of ogres. Pools of water were everywhere, fed by droplets tinkling
into them like music in a goblin's cathedral.
The river also seemed to have reappeared, somewhat less odoriferous due to
dilution of its sewage content. I followed both my nose and my ears to locate
its rushing course over boulders along the far side of the great chamber. The
river finally led me out of the Goblin's Cathedral into a new tunnel that had
a muddy bank littered with rocks and large broken stalactites. As I slogged
along, avoiding increasing numbers of obstacles, I heard a distant rumbling
sound that rapidly increased in volume. I wondered if there might be an
underground waterfall ahead.
Belatedly, I remembered to check the countdown. Glowing red numerals on the
alien wristcom showed that it had reached 45:12. I had been inside sump
number five for twenty-
four minutes, but I still had no evidence that this route provided a link to
the higher level of
Pothole Passage. If I brought the others in here, we might escape the
catastrophic photon flare
clean instant death only to perish in a gorgeous, putrid-smelling abyss.
Perhaps just a little bit farther.
I hurried along the river, only to be brought up short by a rockfall barrier
higher than my head.
I decided to see what lay on the other side and then turn back.
Holding the flashlight in my mouth again, using the long stun-gun as an
alpenstock, I
ascended the unsteady heap. Water was flowing in the midst of the tumbled
rocks, and they were very slippery. I stumbled, barked my shins painfully, and
nearly lost the flashlight. The pile was three or four meters wide. On the far
side I found level ground and deeper mud, as thick and clinging as pancake
batter.
The sound of rushing water was now extremely loud, and I was suddenly aware
that the air was filled with mist. Thinking only of how little time was left,
I restored the gun to my back and squished through foot-grabbing gray mire to
the edge of the embankment to see if the cascade was visible. The grade
steepened unexpectedly. I lost my footing again and began to slide downslope
on my butt. Luckily, a large fallen stalactite checked my skid. Cursing a blue
streak because I was now coated with mud, I shone my inadequate light out over
the river.
And experienced a start of raw terror.
There was no gleam of dark water only rags of swirling vapor that danced above
a great cylindrical chasm.
Page 142
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
By straining my eyes I was able to see the waterfall a stone's throw away,
pouring off the opposite edge of the pit, into the depths.
Poor Ivor...
I scrambled back up the bank and made a hasty inspection of the area
surrounding the chasm.
My flashlight barely illuminated the bizarre scene. Just beyond the rockfall
were tiered formations edged with sparkling dripstone, looking for all the
world like a collection of gigantic fossilized wedding cakes. Water seeped
down them sluggishly, and also over adjacent terraces that rose stepwise for
about fifteen meters to a lumpy wall pierced by a tall opening shaped like a
keyhole.
With my heart pounding, I splashed up the terraces. Each one contained a
limpid pool a few centimeters deep with a floor of crunchy crystals. At the
top the keyhole opened into a corridor
that split almost immediately into two branch tunnels. The stream that bathed
the wedding cakes and terraces flowed noisily out of the left one.
The right-hand tunnel was completely dry, even dusty. But at some time in the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
crouch. To make matters worse, the ledge, rendered almost as slick as glass by
a thin film of watery mud, began to tilt in the direction of the stream, which
was flowing much faster (and, I suspected, much deeper)
than before. Long stalactites menaced my head, and nasty little spikelike
formations underfoot
threatened to impale me if I should slip and fall.
There was also a danger of skidding into the river. At best I'd probably get a
mouth- and noseful of alien sewage; at worst, climbing out might prove
impossible, since the bank now dropped off almost perpendicularly, with the
surface of the water over a meter below. The nauseating smell combined with
the speleological hazards nearly made me turn back. Cursing, wet to the skin
from the drips that fell from the stone daggers, I toiled on wondering how any
lepido, drunk or sober, could have deliberately chosen to come through this
fucking Spike Farm.
Maybe none had...
The ledge eventually leveled out, becoming a virtual promenade over two meters
wide. The pointy-tipped rock formations also disappeared as I came into a
drier region. 1 was grateful for small favors, because the cave roof was
getting lower and lower. In fact, the passage was turning from a tunnel into a
mere crawlway.
Dropping to my hands and knees, I slithered gamely onward, carrying the
flashlight in my teeth. The space between ledge and ceiling decreased to less
than sixty centimeters and the carbine on my back rasped against the rock.
Eventually I was forced to squirm on my belly.
Above the river to my right, the clearance was even less. Then the waterway
vanished altogether. Happily, so did its stink. I kept crawling.
Until my probing fingers felt empty air ahead.
I squirmed to the edge of what I feared might be a precipice and shone the
light down. The bowl-shaped depression was less than a meter deep and about
Page 141
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
five meters wide. I gave a little yip of exultation when I spotted another of
the alien liquor flasks, lacking a stopper, among some boulders at the bottom.
On the opposite side of the cavity, a tall, very narrow crevice led deeper
into the rocks.
Way to go, Larry!
I crossed the Bowl Chamber and squeezed into the crack, praying I wouldn't get
trapped. My own bulk was less than that of a lepido, even though I was
considerably taller. If Larry had managed to get through this Needle's Eye,
then so could I.
The narrows turned out to be mercifully short. Almost immediately I found
myself in an immense subterranean room containing the most beautiful
speleothems I'd ever seen, all of the formations gleaming with moisture so
that they seemed carved from pale polished gemstone. My flashlight revealed
translucent striped draperies and ornate stalactites hanging from the ceiling.
Some of the latter extended all the way to the floor, forming elegant columns
as wide as tree trunks, adorned with dripstone fringes. They framed looming
masses resembling fantastic pipe organs, huge animals, and the shrouded
statues of ogres. Pools of water were everywhere, fed by droplets tinkling
into them like music in a goblin's cathedral.
The river also seemed to have reappeared, somewhat less odoriferous due to
dilution of its sewage content. I followed both my nose and my ears to locate
its rushing course over boulders along the far side of the great chamber. The
river finally led me out of the Goblin's Cathedral into a new tunnel that had
a muddy bank littered with rocks and large broken stalactites. As I slogged
along, avoiding increasing numbers of obstacles, I heard a distant rumbling
sound that rapidly increased in volume. I wondered if there might be an
underground waterfall ahead.
Belatedly, I remembered to check the countdown. Glowing red numerals on the
alien wristcom showed that it had reached 45:12. I had been inside sump
number five for twenty-
four minutes, but I still had no evidence that this route provided a link to
the higher level of
Pothole Passage. If I brought the others in here, we might escape the
catastrophic photon flare
clean instant death only to perish in a gorgeous, putrid-smelling abyss.
Perhaps just a little bit farther.
I hurried along the river, only to be brought up short by a rockfall barrier
higher than my head.
I decided to see what lay on the other side and then turn back.
Holding the flashlight in my mouth again, using the long stun-gun as an
alpenstock, I
ascended the unsteady heap. Water was flowing in the midst of the tumbled
rocks, and they were very slippery. I stumbled, barked my shins painfully, and
nearly lost the flashlight. The pile was three or four meters wide. On the far
side I found level ground and deeper mud, as thick and clinging as pancake
batter.
The sound of rushing water was now extremely loud, and I was suddenly aware
that the air was filled with mist. Thinking only of how little time was left,
I restored the gun to my back and squished through foot-grabbing gray mire to
the edge of the embankment to see if the cascade was visible. The grade
steepened unexpectedly. I lost my footing again and began to slide downslope
on my butt. Luckily, a large fallen stalactite checked my skid. Cursing a blue
streak because I was now coated with mud, I shone my inadequate light out over
the river.
And experienced a start of raw terror.
There was no gleam of dark water only rags of swirling vapor that danced above
a great cylindrical chasm.
Page 142
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
By straining my eyes I was able to see the waterfall a stone's throw away,
pouring off the opposite edge of the pit, into the depths.
Poor Ivor...
I scrambled back up the bank and made a hasty inspection of the area
surrounding the chasm.
My flashlight barely illuminated the bizarre scene. Just beyond the rockfall
were tiered formations edged with sparkling dripstone, looking for all the
world like a collection of gigantic fossilized wedding cakes. Water seeped
down them sluggishly, and also over adjacent terraces that rose stepwise for
about fifteen meters to a lumpy wall pierced by a tall opening shaped like a
keyhole.
With my heart pounding, I splashed up the terraces. Each one contained a
limpid pool a few centimeters deep with a floor of crunchy crystals. At the
top the keyhole opened into a corridor
that split almost immediately into two branch tunnels. The stream that bathed
the wedding cakes and terraces flowed noisily out of the left one.
The right-hand tunnel was completely dry, even dusty. But at some time in the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]