Читать книгу Classics fantasy – 10 - A. Belyaev - Страница 15

Next morning Gatling felt better. Fever decreased. It passed in a radio equipment room and sent the radiotelegram with a signal of “SOS” (a distress signal – “Save our souls!”) and the indication of longitude and width on which there was a boat.

All crew of the underwater vessel was in alarm. Electricity burned dimly. Became to pant. Oxygen was on an outcome. It was necessary to rise by all means to the ocean surface, but dense seaweed it is tenacious held the production…

Old men Ternip, gasping widely open mouths, lay on a floor. Young people felt a little better.

Lamps were ready to go out every minute from a lack of current…

– There is the only means – told Gatling – to get out via the hatch for torpedoes and to try to clear away a knife a way among seaweed. – And it took a knife. – I will try to make it…

– You went crazy, Gatling. With your hand…

– It is impossible! – also other voices were heard. And all exchanged glances, as if looking for who would undertake this venture.

– Here that, Gatling – Simpkins unexpectedly acted – you saved to me life, and I at you in a debt. I undertake this business. Do not contradict. There is no victim. Eventually, if to die whether so everything is equal where. Ladies can turn away! – Having quickly undressed and having armed with a knife, he told: – I am ready! If in twenty minutes the submarine does not rise to the surface – means, I died!

Quickly turned off an internal cover of the hatch, Simpkins crept in a narrow pipe, the cover was wrapped, and the external cover at the same time automatically opened…

Симпкинс disappeared. Painful minutes of expectation stretched.

And Simpkins at this time as the unprecedented torpedo, got out of a side of the submarine and, clinging to seaweed, began to work with a knife quickly. Having felt what to it does not gasp, he emerged on a surface, recovered the breath and again dived into greenish sea depth. Work moved slowly.

The stay periods under water were shorter and shorter, it was necessary to have a rest on a surface longer and longer…

In the twilight of a submarine people choked and with the distorted reddened faces tensely looked behind a minute hand of hours…

Ten… Fifteen… Seventeen… Nineteen… Twenty… Twenty five… Twenty six… It is over…

A half of crew was in subconscious state… In lamps only the red spark as the going-out coal shone. Groans were heard. People grabbed themselves a breast; one rode on a floor, hid in corners under furniture, others climbed up, being piled up on tables and chairs, and looked for greedy, opened, as at fish ashore, mouths though a breath of fresh air. Were stared from orbits. Cold sweat covered a forehead. But air was poisoned everywhere.

And these last minutes of despair began to seem to people as if the boat easily rose a nasal part, shook again down and slowly began to rise. Yes, it is not a hallucination. The arrow of the device specifying immersion depth spoke about the same. More and more…

– We on a surface!

The shivering hands of Gatling and two sailors hurried to unscrew a cover.

Suddenly bright light blinded all. The stream of vivifying sea air joined the boat.

Air. Light. Life.

And in joyful vanity people clambered up, pulled out old men Ternip, the wounded sailor.

The Gatling rushed to Simpkins’s body lying on the edge of the ship case… Симпкинс fell into a faint from overfatigue, but recovered soon.

And suddenly new explosion of joy: on the horizon, smoking black pipes, the huge American steamship seemed. It went here. He noticed the boat. It gave a signal.

Rough joy turned into silent nervousness… The closer the gray bulk of the steamship approached, the some links which connected all these people in a single whole tried more. This whole broke up to certain people, with the personal cares, the destiny, the roads.

The steamship is closer, the they became farther from each other.

The daughter of the billionaire, dirty sailors, the fallen Ternip – that the general between them? Симпкинс and Gatling – again enemies.

The Gatling was quiet, but is sad.

And Simpkins already changed clothes and cheerfully whistled a song.

Some more minutes of expectation – and they by steamship.

Chapter 15