Citizen in Spase. Stories / Гражданин в Космосе. Рассказы. Книга для чтения на английском языке

A big Owens Landmover had been damaged this time. It sagged on its broken axle where the wrecking gang had left it. The two drivers were sitting in the cab, waiting for him.

“How did it happen?” Morrison asked.

“I don’t know,” the chief driver said, wiping perspiration from his eyes. “Felt the road lift out. Spun sideways, sorta.”

Morrison grunted and kicked the Owens’ gigantic front wheel. A Landmover could drop twenty feet onto rock and come up without a scratched fender. They were the toughest machines built.

Five of his were out of commission now.

“Nothing’s going right on this job,” the assistant driver said, as though that explained everything.

“You’re getting careless,” Morrison said. “You can’t wheel that rig like you were on Earth. How fast were you going?”

“We were doing fifteen miles an hour,” the chief driver said.

“Sure you were,” Morrison said.

“It’s the truth! The road sorta dropped out —”

“Yeah,” Morrison said.

“When will you guys get it through your thick skulls you aren’t driving the Indianapolis speedway. I’m docking you both a half-day’s wages.[1 - I’m docking you both a half-day’s wages. – Я вычту у вас из зарплаты за половину смены.]”

He turned and walked away. They were angry at him now. Good enough, if it helped take their superstitious minds off the planet.

He was starting toward the mountain without a name when the radio operator leaned out of his shack and called, “For you, Morrie.

Earth.”

Morrison took the call. At full amplification he could just recognize the voice of Mr. Shotwell, chairman of the board of Transterran Steel. He was saying, “What’s holding things up?”

“Accidents,” Morrison said.

“More accidents?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

There was a moment’s silence. Mr. Shotwell said, “But why, Morrison? It’s a soft planet on the specs[2 - specs = specifications – спецификация, технические условия].

Isn’t it?”

“Yes sir,” Morrison admitted unwillingly. “We’ve had a run of bad luck. But we’ll roll.[3 - But we’ll roll. – Но мы справимся.]”

“I hope so,” Mr. Shotwell said. “I certainly hope so. You’ve been there nearly a month, and you haven’t built a single city, or port, or even a highway! Our first advertisements have appeared. Inquiries are rolling in.