"Bova, Ben - Voyagers 03 - Star Brothers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bova Ben)

Paulino had heard the story many times.

"Growing coca was against the law, they said. We were bewildered. Since time immemorial we had grown coca. The men from the capital who bought it told us that they sold it to Norte Americanos. Now Yankee soldiers had destroyed the year's crop and the men from the capital said growing coca was illegal."

"That was years ago," Paulino said impatiently.

But his father went on, "Within one month other men from the capital came and told us that the Gringo soldiers had gone home and we could resume growing coca next season. In the meantime we nearly starved."

"But then ..."

"But then we were told to plant the whole valley in coca. So we did, and for years all was well. Until the day the Peace Enforcers arrived."

Paulino felt the inner trembling that signalled the need for another hit of Moondust.

His father droned on, oblivious, "The Peace Enforcers carried no weapons. Not even pistolas. There were even women among them! They told us that the coca crop was going to die, and it would never grow in this valley again. In its place, they would help us to plant the valley in corn and potatoes and squash, food crops they said were needed by hungry people thousands of kilometers away.

"The Peace Enforcers kept their word. The coca withered, blackened, and died. No matter what we did, coca refused to grow in our valley anymore. The Peace Enforcers gave us tractors and tools and the generator that turns sunlight into electricity."

"I need to go," Paulino said. His hands were beginning to shake.

"One moment," said his father. "Today we live in peace . .."

"You live dirt poor!" Paulino spat. "Those men from the city, they take your crops and give you so little you can barely stay alive!"

"We live simply, the way we have always lived, since the time when the Great Inca ruled all the world."

"That's not good enough for me," Paulino said.

His father saw how the young man shook and sweated. "Yes. I understand. Because you cannot control yourself, one day the soldiers will come and destroy us all."

Now Paulino stood rooted by the closed wooden door of the old stone barn, staring in the direction of the valley road, as if he could make the soldiers go away if he stared hard enough. In the distance the Andes rose to snow-capped magnificence. The sun burned hot in the cloudless sky, but the wind from the mountains was cool and dry.

And Paulino saw a cloud of dust rising above the valley road. He wanted to run.

Instead he pushed through the creaking barn door. Inside, six men in goggles, breathing masks, and stained plastic aprons were bending over a complex apparatus of glass and heavy metal levers.

"Put on a mask!" yelled one of the men.

"Soldiers!" shouted Paulino. "Soldiers coming to the village!"

All six men froze for an instant. Then they rushed for the door, throwing their masks and goggles to the floor of the barn.

Outside in the sunlight their leader, a wiry hard-faced Frenchman, dashed across the village street to the ramshackle shed where they kept their truck. He came back with a pair of binoculars in his hands. And a heavy black pistol jammed into the waistband of his pants.

Clambering up the rough stones of the barn like a monkey, he flattened himself on the roof and peered through his binoculars.

"Merde! It must be a whole battalion of them! Armored cars and everything!"

The others raced to the truck and jammed themselves into it The motor coughed twice and then roared to life as their leader scampered down from the roof