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

"Didn't need to," Leopold said tersely.
"Sell out. I'll give you a good price." Rhiang casually sank his massive flank on our table edge. "You're getting too old."
Something flickered in Leopold's eyes; he said nothing.
"Talk is," Rhiang went on mildly, "market's falling."
"Maybe," Leopold said. "What you been getting for a kilo?"
"Not saying."
"Tight lips and narrow minds go together."
Rhiang stood, his barrel chest bulging. "You could use a little instruction in politeness."
"From you?" Leopold chuckled. "You paid off that patent clerk to release my gene configs early. Was that polite?"
Rhiang shrugged. "That's the past. The present reality is that there may be an oversupply of thistleberries. Market isn't big enough for two big operations like ours. There's too much-"
"Too much of you, that's my problem. Lift off, Rhiang."
To my surprise, he did. He nodded to me, ignored Evelaine; and gave Leopold a look of contempt. Then he was gone.
I heard them first. We were taking one of the outside walks that corkscrew around the Angis spire, gawking at the phosphored streets below. A stone slide clattered behind us. I saw two men duck behind a jutting ledge. One of them had something in his hand that glittered.
"You're jumpy, Drake," Evelaine said.
"Maybe." It occurred to me that if we went over the edge of this spire, hundreds of meters into the thorn scrabble below, it would be very convenient for Rhiang.
"Let's move on."
Leopold glanced at me, then back at the inky shadows. We strolled along the trail of volcanic rock, part of the natural formation that made the spire. Rough black pebbles slipped underfoot. In the distant starflecked night, skylight called and boomed.
We passed under a phosphor. At the next turn Leopold looked back and said, "I saw one of them. Rhiang's righthand man."
We hurried away. I wished for a pair of wings to get us off this place. Evelaine understood instantly that this was serious. "There's a split in the trail ahead," Leopold said. "If they follow, we'll know . . ." He didn't finish.
We turned. They followed. "I think I know a way to slow them down," I said. Leopold looked at me. We were trying to avoid slipping in the darkness and yet make good time. "Collect some of these obsidian frags;" I said.
We got a bundle of them together. "Go on up ahead," I said. We were on a narrow ledge. I sank back into the shadows and waited. The two men appeared. Before they noticed me I threw the obsidian high into the air. In low gravity it takes a long time for them to come back down. In the darkness the two men couldn't. see them coming.
I stepped out into the wan light. "Hey!" I yelled to them. They stopped, precisely where I thought they would. "What's going on?" I said, to stall.
The biggest one produced a knife. "This."
The first rock hit, coming down from over a hundred meters above. It slammed into the boulder next to him. Then three more crashed down, striking the big one in the shoulder, braining the second. They both crumpled.
I turned and hurried along the path. If they'd seen me throw they'd have had time to dodge. It was an old schoolboy trick, but it worked.
The implications, though, were sobering. If Rhiang felt this way, my new job might not last long.
I was bagging berries in the cavernous Paramount Lair when the warning buzzer in my pocket went off. A Dragon was coming in. I still had time, but not much. I decided to finish this particular bag rather than abandon the bagging-pistol. The last bit of fluid sprayed over the heap of berries and began to congeal instantly, its tremendously high surface tension drawing it around the irregular pile and sealing perfectly. I holstered the gun, leaving the bag for later. I turned-
A slow flapping boom. Outside, a wrinkled brown wall.
Well, I'd fooled around long enough-now I dived for safety. The Dragon's Lair was carpeted with a thick collection of nesting materials. None were very pleasant to burrow through, but I didn't have any choice. Behind me I could hear the Dragon moving around; if I didn't move out of his way in a hurry I might get stepped on. The emergency chute on my back tangled in a branch, just as the stench in the Lair intensified. I hurried out of it and went on. I'd just have to be sure not to fall from any great heights. I didn't worry about it, because my skimmer was parked on the ledge just outside the Lair.
I stuck my head up through the nest to judge my position. The bulk of the Dragon was silhouetted against the glare of the sky, which was clear of fog today. The beast seemed to be preening itself. That was something I never thought they did outside of the mating season-which was six months away.
I scrambled backward into the nest. The buzzer in my pocket went off again, though it was supposed to signal just once, for ten seconds. I figured the thing must have
broken. It quieted and I moved on, thinking. For one thing,.the Dragon that occupied this Lair was supposed to have been far from home right now-which meant that my guest didn't really belong here. Dragons never used the wrong Lair unless it was the mating season.
I frowned. Why did that keep coming up?
Suddenly there was a rush of wind and a low, thrumming sound. The light from outside was cut off. I poked my head into the open.
Another Dragon was lumbering into the Lair. This was really impossible. 'Iivo Dragons sharing a Lair-and the wrong one at that! Whatever their reasons for being here, I was sure they were going to start fighting pretty soon, so I burrowed deeper, moving toward the nearest wall.
My elbow caught on something. Cloth. I brushed it away, then looked again. A Dragonrobber uniform like my own. It was directly beneath me, half-buried in the nesting material. 1 caught my breath, then poked at the uniform. Something glittered near one empty sleeve: an identification bracelet. I picked it up, shifted it in the light, and read the name on it: Lorn Kramer.
Lorn Kramer! So he had been in Leopold's group after all. But that still didn't explain why he left his clothes here.
I tugged at the uniform, dragging it toward me. It was limp, but tangled in the nest. I jerked harder and some long, pale things rattled out of the sleeve.
Bones.
I winced. I was suddenly aware that my present situation must be somewhat like the one that had brought him here.
I looked into the Lair again. One of the Dragons was prodding its snout at the other, making low, whuffling sounds. It didn't look like a hostile gesture to me. In fact,
it looked like they were playing. The other Dragon wheeled about and headed for the entrance. The first one followed, and in a minute both of them had left the Lair again-as abruptly and inexplicably as they had entered it.
I saw my chance. I ran across the Lair, grabbed my skimmer, and took off. I moved out, pedaling furiously away from the Dragons, and glanced down.
For a minute I thought I was seeing things. The landscape below me was blurred, though the day had been clear and crisp when I'd flown into the Lair. I blinked. It didn't go away, but got clearer. There was a cloud of yellowish dust spreading high above the forest, billowing up and around the Lairs I could see. Where had it come from?
I sneezed, passing through a high plume of the dust. Then my eyes began to sting and I sneezed again. I brought the skimmer out of the cloud, but by this time my vision was distorted with tears. I began to cough and choke ail at once, until the skimmer faltered as I fought to stay in control, my eyes streaming.
I knew what that dust was.
Nothing affected me as fiercely as puffbush pollen: it was the only thing I was really allergic to.
I, stopped pedaling.
It affected Dragons, too. It set off their mating urges.
But where was the damned stuff coming from? It was six months out of season. I started pedaling again, legs straining. I turned to get a better view.