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Dragonlance -- Dan Parkinson - The Gates Of Thorbardin
Atec Март 01 2008 15:03:31
Книга только для ознакомления
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Obvious enough, now that he understood it. But he
hadn't known about such things when he had designed
the soarwagon. His assumption had been that air was
air, anywhere.
He had even named the phenomenon of the near-
surface currents. Ground effect, he called it. And he had
worked out the control requirements to correct for it.
Only one problem remained. The soarwagon couldn't be
repaired in flight. He would have to land first.
And he couldn't land until it was repaired.
Feeling grumpier by the minute, Bobbin tugged his
strings and helped himself to some more raisins. He
wished he had some cider to go with them. Raisins with-
out cider were like a sundial without a pointer. Ade-
quate, but hardly timely.
Through a long morning he had been drifting in wide
right-hand circles, while the soarwagon descended from
an abrupt, screaming climb to an estimated twenty thou-
sand feet -- a maneuver executed entirely without Bob-
bin's assistance. Once at that lofty altitude, the device
had seemed satisfied to begin a slow, languid descent.
Bobbin had set the soarwagon in an easy right-hand
pitch and spent the intervening hours dozing, fuming,
and eating raisins.
After Bobbin finished his breakfast and washed it
down with rainwater collected during the previous
night's storm, he looked over the side of his wicker cab to
see if he could identify where he was. He frowned and
shook his head in disgust
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