"Anderson, Poul - Sky People, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Poul)

Ruori looked toward that forest which was the DolphinТs rig. УWhat happened here?Ф he asked.
УA band of those devils landed up that way, near the battery. They took the emplacements while we were still wondering what it was all about. Some of them went off toward that racket in the north quarter, I believe where the army lives. But the rest of the gang attacked us. Well, with our gunwale ten feet above the dock, and us trained to repel pirates, they didnТt have much luck. I gave them a dose of flame.Ф
Ruori winced from the blackened corpses. Doubtless they had deserved it, but he didnТt like the idea of pumping burning blubber oil across live men.
УToo bad they didnТt try it from the seaward side,Ф added Atel with a sigh. УWeТve got such a lovely harpoon catapult. I used one just like it several years ago off Hinja, when a Sinese buccaneer came too close. His junk sounded like a whale.Ф
УMen arenТt whales!Ф snapped Ruori.
УAll right, captain, all right, all right.Ф Atell backed away from his violence, a little frightened. УNo ill-speaking meant.Ф
Ruori recollected himself and folded his hands. УI spoke in needless anger,Ф he said formally. УI laugh at myself.Ф
УItТs nothing, captain. As I was saying, we beat them off and they finally withdrew. I imagine theyТll be back with reinforcements. What shall we do?Ф
УThatТs what I donТt know,Ф said Ruori in a bleak tone. He turned to the Meycans, who stood with stricken uncomprehending faces. УYour pardon is prayed, Dons and Doflitas,Ф he said in Spaflol. УHe was only relating to me what had happened.Ф
УDonТt apologize!Ф Tresa Carabсn spoke, stepping out ahead of the men. Some of them looked a bit offended, but they were too tired and stunned to reprove her forwardness, and to Ruori it was only natural that a woman act as freely as a man. УYou saved our lives, captain. More than our lives.Ф
He wondered what was worse than death, then nodded. Slavery, of course, ropes and whips and a lifetimeТs unfree toil in a strange land. His eyes dwelt upon her, the long hair disheveled past smooth shoulders, gown ripped, weariness and a streak of tears across her face. He wondered if she knew her father was dead. She held herself straight and regarded him with an odd defiance.
УWe are uncertain what to do,Ф he said awkwardly. УWe are only fifty men. Can we help your city?Ф
A young nobleman, swaying on his feet, replied: УNo. The city is done. You can take these ladies to safety, that is all.Ф
Tresa protested: УYou are not surrendering already, SТflor DOnoju!Ф
УNo, Doflita,Ф the young man breathed. УBut I hope I can be shriven before returning to fight, for I am a dead man.Ф
УCome aboard,Ф said Ruori curtly.
He led the way up the gangplank. Liliu, one of the shipТs five wahines, ran to meet him. She threw arms about his neck and cried, УI feared you were all slain!Ф
УNot yet.Ф Ruori disengaged her as gently as possible. He noticed Tresa standing stiff, glaring at them both. Puzzlement cameЧdid these curious Meycans expect a crew to embark on a voyage of months without taking a few girls along?Чthen he decided that the wahinesТ clothing, being much like his menТs, was against local mores. To Nan with their silly prejudices. But it hurt that Tresa drew away from him.
The other Meycans stared about them. Not all had toured the ship when she first arrived. They looked in bewilderment at lines and spars, down fathoms of deck to the harpoon catapult, capstans, bowsprit, and back at the sailors. The Maurai grinned encouragingly. So far most of them looked on this as a lark. Men who skin dove after sharks, for fun, or who sailed outrigger canoes alone across a thousand ocean miles to pay a visit, were not put out by a little fight.
But they had not talked with grave Don Miwel and merry Don Wan and gentle Bispo Ermosillo, and then seen those people dead on a dance floor, thought Ruori in bitterness.
The Meycan women huddled together, ladies and servants, to weep among each other. The palace formed a solid rank around them. The nobles, and Tresa, followed Ruori up on the poop deck.
УNow,Ф he said, Уlet us talk. Who are these bandits?Ф
УThe Sky People,Ф whispered Tresa.
УI can see that.Ф Ruori cocked an eye on the aircraft patrolling overhead. They had the sinister beauty of as many barracuda. Here and there columns of smoke reached up toward them. УBut who are they? Where from?Ф
УThey are Nor-Merikans,Ф she answered in a dry little voice, as if afraid to give it color. УFrom the wild highlands around the Corado River, the Grand Canyon it has cut for itselfЧmountaineers. There is a story that they were driven from the eastern plains by Mong invaders, a long time ago; but they grew strong again in the hills and deserts, so they have defeated some Mong tribes and become friendly with others. For a hundred years they have harried our northern borders. This is the first time they have ventured so far south. V~Te never expected themЧI suppose their spies learned most of our soldiers are up by the RIo Gran, chasing a rebel force
Чthey sailed southwesterly, above our landЧФ She shivered.
The young DOnoju spat: УThey are heathen dogs! They know nothing but to rob and burn and kill!Ф He sagged. УWhat have we done that they are loosed on us?Ф
Ruori rubbed his chin thoughtfully. УThey canТt be quite such savages,Ф he murmured. УThose blimps are better than anything my own Federation has tried to make. The fabric. . . some tricky synthetic? It must be, or it wouldnТt contain hydrogen any length of time. Surely they donТt use helium! But for hydrogen production on that scale, you need industry. A good empirical chemistry, at least. They might even electrolyze it . . . good Lesu!Ф
He realized he had been talking to himself in his home language. УI beg your pardon,Ф he said. УI was wondering what we might do. This ship carries no flying vessels.Ф
Again he looked upward. Atel handed him his binoculars. He focused on the nearest blimp. The huge gas bag and the gondola beneathЧitself as big as many a Maurai shipЧformed an aero
dynamically clean unit. The gondola seemed to be light, woven cane about a wooden frame, but strong. Three-fourths of the way up from its keep a sort of gallery ran clear around, on which the crew might walk and work. At intervals along its rail stood musclepowered machines. Some must be for hauling, but others suggested catapults. So the blimps of various chiefs fought each other occasionally, in the northern kingdoms. That might be worth knowing. The FederationТs political psychologists were skilled at the divide-and-rule game. But for now.
The motive power was extraordinarily interesting. Near the gondola bows two lateral spars reached out for some fifty feet, one above the other. They supported two pivoted frames on either side, to which square sails were bent. A similar pair of spars pierced the after hull: eight sails in all. Shark-fin control surfaces were braced to the gas bag. A couple of small retractible windwheels, vaned and pivoted, jutted beneath the gondola, evidently serving the purpose of a false keel. Sails and rudders were trimmed by lines running through block and tackle to windlasses on the gallery. By altering their set, it should be possible to steer at least several points to windward. And, yes, the air moves in different directions at different levels. A blimp could descend by pumping out enough cells in its gas bag, compressing the hydrogen into storage tanks; it could rise by reinflating or by dropping ballast. (Though the latter trick would be reserved for home stretches, when leakage had depleted the gas supply.) Between sails, rudders, and its ability to find a reasonably favoring wind, such a blimp could go roving across several thousand miles, with a payload of no few tons. Oh, a lovely craft!
Ruori lowered his glasses. УHasnТt the Perio built any air vessels, to fight back?Ф he asked.
УNo,Ф mumbled one of the Meycans. УAll we ever had was balloons. We donТt know how to make a fabric which will hold the lifting-gas long enough, or how to control the flight, soЧФ His voice trailed off.
УAnd being a non-scientific culture, you never thought of doing systematic research to learn those tricks,Ф said Ruori.
Tresa, who had been staring at her city, whirled about upon him. УItТs easy enough for you!Ф she screamed. УYou havenТt stood off Mong in the north and Raucanians in the south for century after century . . . you havenТt had to spend twenty years and ten thousand lives making canals and aqueducts, so a few less people would starve. . . you arenТt burdened with a peon majority who can only work, who cannot look after themselves because they have never been taught how because their existence is too much of a burden for our land to afford it . . . itТs easy enough for you to float about with your shirtless doxies and poke fun at us! What would you have done, SТflor almighty captain?Ф
УBe still,Ф reproved young DOnoju. УHe saved our lives.Ф
УSo far!Ф she said, through teeth and tears. One small dancing shoe stamped the deck.
For a bemused moment, irrelevantly, Ruori wondered what a doxie was. It sounded uncomplimentary. Could she mean the wahines? But was there a more honorable way for a woman to earn a good dowry than by hazarding her life, side by side with the men of her people on a mission of discovery and civilization? What did Tresa expect to tell her grandchildren about on rainy nights?
Then he wondered further why she should disturb him so. He had noticed it before, in some of the Meycans, an almost terrifying intensity between man and wife, as if a spouse was somehow more than a respected friend and partner. But what other relationship was possible? A psychological specialist might know; Ruori was lost.
He shook an angry head, to clear it, and said aloud: УThis is no time for inurbanity.Ф He had to use a Spaflol word with not quite the same connotation. УWe must decide. Are you certain there is no hope of repelling the pirates?Ф
УNot unless SТ AntOn himself passes a miracle,Ф said DOnoju in a dead voice.
Then, snapping erect: УThere is only one thing you can do for us, SТflor. If you will leave now, with the womenЧ There are high born ladies among them, who must not be sold into captivity and
disgrace. Bear them south to Port Wanawato, where the calde will look after their welfare.Ф
УI do not like to run off,Ф said Ruori, looking at the men fallen on the wharf.
УSТflor, these are ladies! In el DIoТs name, have mercy on them!Ф Ruori studied the taut, bearded faces. He did owe them a great deal of hospitality, and he could see no other way he might ever repay it. УIf you wish,Ф he said slowly. УWhat of yourselves?Ф
The young noble bowed as if to a king. УOur thanks and prayers will go with you, my lord captain. We men, of course, will now return to the battle.Ф He stood up and barked in a parade-ground voice: УAtten-tion! Form ranks!Ф
A few swift kisses passed on the main deck, and then the men of Meyco had crossed the gangplank and tramped into their city.
Ruori beat the taff rail with a clenched fist. УIf there was some way,Ф he mumbled. УIf I could do something!Ф Almost hopefully:
УDo you think the bandits might attack us?Ф