"BENFORD, Gregory - A Hiss of Dragon (v1.0)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Benford Gregory)

The trick to hunting in the air is to get beneath your prey so that you can grab it while it falls, but this smackwing was flying too low. I headed in fast, hoping to frighten it into rising above me, but it was no use. The smackwing saw me, red eyes rolling. It missed a beat in its flapping and dived toward the treetops. At that instant a snagger shot into view from the topmost branches, rising with a low farting sound. The smackwing spotted this blimplike thing that had leaped into its path but apparently didn't think it too threatening. It swerved about a meter under the bobbing creature-
And stopped flat, in mid-air.
I laughed aloud, sheathing my blaser. The snagger had won his meal like a real hunter.
Beneath the snagger's wide blimplike body was a dangling sheet of transparent sticky material. The smackwing struggled in the moist folds as the snagger drew the sheet upward. To the unwary smackwing that clear sheet must have been invisible until the instant he flew into it.
Within another minute, as I pedaled past the spot, the snagger had entirely engulfed the smackwing and was unrolling its sticky sheet as it drifted back into the treetops. Pale yellow eyes considered me and rejected the notion of me as food. A ponderous predator, wise with years.
I flew into the spired city: Kalatin.
I parked on the deck of our apartment building, high above the jumbled wooden buildings of the city. Now that my interview had been successful, we'd be able to stay in Kalatin, though I hoped we could find a better apartment. This one was as old as the city-which in turn had been around for a great deal of the 1200 years humans had been on Lex. As the wood of the lower stories rotted, and as the building crumbled away, new quarters were just built on top of it and settled into place. Someday this city would be an archaeologist's dream. In the meantime, it was an inhabitant's nightmare.
Five minutes later, having negotiated several treacherous ladders and a splintering shinny pole into the depths of the old building, I crept quietly to the wooden door of my apartment and let myself in, clutching the mudskater steaks that I'd picked up on the way home. It was dark and cramped inside, the smell of rubbed wood strong. I could hear Evelaine moving around in the kitchen, so I sneaked to the doorway and looked in. She was turned away, chopping thistleberries with a thorn-knife.
I grabbed her, throwing the steaks into the kitchen, and kissed her.
"Got the job, Evey!" I said. "Leopold took me out himself and I ended up saving his-"
"It is you!" She covered her nose, squirming away from me. "What is that smell, Drake?"
"Smell?"
"Like something died. It's all over you."
I remembered the afternoon's events. It was either the smell of Dragon, which I'd got from scrambling around in a Lair, or that of urine. I played it safe and said, "I think it's Dragon."
"Well take it somewhere else. I'm cooking dinner."
"I'll hop in the cycler. You can cook up the steaks I
brought, then we're going out to celebrate."
The Angis Tavern is no skiff joint, good for a stale senso on the way home from work. It's the best. The Angis is a vast old place, perched on a pyramid of rock. Orange fog nestles at the base, a misty collar separating it from the jumble of the city below.
Evelaine pedaled the skimmer with me, having trouble in her gown. We made a wobbly landing on the rickety side deck. It would've been easier to coast down to the city, where there was more room for a glide approach, but that's pointless. There are thick cactus and thornbushes around the Angis base, hard to negotiate at night. In the old days it kept away predators; now it keeps away the riffraff.
But not completely: two beggars accosted us as we dismounted, offering to shine up the skimmer's aluminum skin. I growled convincingly at them, and they skittered away. The Angis is so big, so full of crannies to hide out in, they can't keep it clear of beggars, I guess.
We went in a balcony entrance. Fat balloons nudged against the ceiling, ten meters overhead, dangling their cords. I snagged one and stepped off into space. Evelaine hooked it as I fell. We rode it down, past alcoves set in the rock wall. Well-dressed patrons nodded as we eased down, the balloon following. The Angis is a spire, broadening gradually as we descended. Phosphors cast creamy glows on the tables set into the walls. I spotted Leopold sprawled in a webbing, two empty tankards lying discarded underneath.
"You're late," he called. We stepped off onto his ledge. Our balloons, released, shot back to the roof.
"You didn't set a time. Evelaine, Leopold." Nods, intro-
ductory phrases.
"It seems quite crowded here tonight," Evelaine murmured. A plausible social remark, except she'd never been to an inn of this class before.
Leopold shrugged. "Hard times mean full taverns. Booze or sensos or tinglers-pick your poison."
Evelaine has the directness of a country girl and knows her own limitations; she stuck to a mild tingler. Service was running slow, so I went to log our orders. I slid down a shinny pole to the first bar level. Mice zipped by me, eating up tablescraps left by the patrons; it saves on labor. Amid the jam and babble I placed our order with a steward and turned to go back.
"You looking for work?" a thick voice said.
I glanced at its owner. "No." The man was big, swarthy, and sure of himself.
"Thought you wanted Dragon work." His eyes had a look of distant amusement.
"How'd you know that?" I wasn't known in the city.
"Friends told me."
"Leopold hired me today."
"So I hear. I'll top whatever he's paying."
"I didn't think business was that good."
"It's going to get better. Much better, once Leopold's out of the action. A monopoly can always sell goods at a higher price. You can start tomorrow."
So this was Kwalan Rhiang. "No thanks. I'm signed up." Actually, I hadn't signed anything, but there was something about this man I didn't like. Maybe the way he was so sure I'd work for him.
"Flying for Leopold is dangerous. He doesn't know what he's doing."
"See you around," I said. A senso was starting in a nearby booth. I took advantage of it to step into the ex-
face, and split open faults. Volcanoes poked up. They belched water and gas onto the surface, keeping the atmosphere dense. So Lex ended up with low gravity and a thick atmosphere. Fine, except that Beta's wan light also never pushed many heavy elements out this far, so Lex is metal-poor. Without iron and the rest you can't build machines, and without technology you're a backwater. You sell your tourist attraction-flying-and hope for the best.
One of the offworlders came up to me and said, "You got any sparkers in this place?"
I shook my head. Maybe he didn't know that getting a sendup by tying your frontal lobes into an animal's is illegal here. Maybe he didn't care. Ancestor or not, he just looked like a misshapen dwarf to me, and I walked away.
Evelaine was describing life in the flatlands when I got back. Leopold was rapt, the worry lines in his face nearly gone. Evelaine does that to people. She's natural and straightforward, so she was telling him right out that she wasn't much impressed with city life. "Farmlands are quiet and restful. Everybody has a job," she murmured. "You're right that getting around is harder-but we can glide in the updrafts, in summer. It's heaven."
"Speaking of the farmlands," I said, "an old friend of mine came out here five years ago. He wanted in on your operations."
"I was hiring like crazy five years ago. What was his name?"
"Lorn Kramer. Great pilot."
Leopold shook his head. "Can't remember. He's not with me now, anyway. Maybe Rhiang got him."
Our drinks arrived. The steward was bribable, though Rhiang was right behind him.
"You haven't answered my 'gram," Rhiang said directly to Leopold, ignoring us. I guess he didn't figure I was
worth any more time.