"C. J. Cherryh - Fever SeasonUC - Compilation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cherryh C J)

"Well, ye got it, then, don't ye? I make the run. I'll tell Moghi he better keep an eye to you. An' he'll do 'er. Won't make no noise, either."
"Not a bad idea," Mondragon allowed. "Not really a bad idea."
"Ye want Del to take you up?"
"No. I'll pick up a poleboat. I don't want Del mixed up with this." She sighed. And thought that she knew now why he had asked her here every night. It hurt, even if it was good of him. Trying to keep her safe, that was all. Keeping her inside walls as much as he could.
Her gut hurt when she reckoned that.
So, damn, you didn't think it was your looks, did you?
Shut up, mama. He ain't no fool. Never was. But he was looking out for me, wasn't he? We're friends. An' he don't mind making love to me.
"Fine," she mumbled aloud, to what he had said. "Fine."
"Is it fine, Jones?"
"Yey." She turned over in the circle of his arms and faced
22 CJ. Oterryh
him, nose lo nose. "Hey, I'll be careful. I'll slip out there and back, I got the fuel, ain't no way I'll make a mistake, I'll watch real sharp and I'll use the engine, all right?"
"Don't get caught. For God's sake don't get caught. It could get political real fast and I'm out of trade-goods.
Hear?"
"1 hear ye. I hear ye real good. If you get in trouble, ye hail any boat, hear, any boat in the Trade. Ye tell 'em Moghi's. Ye know thai."
"I know."
"Deal, then." She snuggled closer. Wrapped her arms around him and shut her eyes. She was still worried, but sleep when it came, came fast and deep, on the exhaustion of a heavy cargo and a long runЧhonest work, well, mostly. In her dreams the water moved, the bed had the motion of the waves, the pilings glided Hke black ghosts. Like all her life on the water. It was stable ground that was the dream.
Tea in the morning, biscuitsЧMondragon could cook, if he had a whole kitchen to do it in, and pans enough to outfit any three boats. Eggs. Sugar for the tea.
Then it was dress and get ready: the canals woke up early as they went to sleep lateЧcanalers dozed during the day as they got the chance; and there was no way she could ask old Min or Del to watch her skip for her while trade slipped away. She pulled on her pants, pulled on the faded red sweater and put a blue one over it, figuring what the morning was going to be out there, and made up her mind to be thoroughly cheerful in the parting at the door. So he was going to risk his neck.
So he would be Fine, he always was, he had a cat's luck and an eel's ways when trouble was on him.
He gave her a hug at the door, and a kiss on the mouthЧ He don't need to do that, now. does he, mama?
She kissed him back, feeling the fool, her, in her canaler's rough clothes and him still in his robe. Lazy man. Going back to sleep after he had seen her off.
Sleep until he had to keep his own appointments.
FEVER SEASON 23
"Damn." he said, "wear socks. It's cold out there."
"Working feet is warm. Wet socks is damn cold, lander. My feet'll be fine once I get to poling."
"Makes me cold to think about it. Here." He fished a small heavy purse out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. "For Moghi, for whatever you might have to do."
"Lord an' my Ancestors, Mondragon, I got money. I got all I needЧ"
"Take it. Hear?"
"Won't." She shoved it back at him, shoved it back so hard, and him not taking it, the purse dropped and hit the floor, scattering bright gold bits.
Cold, by the Ancestors. AH of it gold.
"Lord, Mondragon, what're ye trying t' do?"
"You can take it, is what." He bent down and picked it up and slapped it hard into her hand. "You can damned well take it and put it on account with MoghiЧ"
Get off the water. You don't have to work. You don't have to take the late runs.
"I ain't doing no such thing!" she yelled. And tried to give it back. Dropped it again when he would not take it. "MoBdragon, ye don't buy me off! I ain't taking any more money."
"You damn well take it!"
"Won't!"
"I'll stop over at Moghi's and leave it, if I have to. It'll just cost me a stop. Waste my time. Put me late."
"Ye're always giving me money, Mondragon, and I ain't earned it! Ain't no way I earned it, I damn sure ain't earning it in no bed, and you can take it an'Ч"
"JonesЧ"
" "Day." She jerked the door open and walked out into the fog and the chill, across the second-level walk, down the stairs where the ghosts of slips waited, with friends.
Damn man.
What c'n I do with 'im?
Damn weather. Ain't much moving till noon, that's sure.
24
CJ. Cherryh
But fine weather if we got fog again tonight, running out to that ship in Harbor.
Down to the canalside, bare feet sure on the slick boards.
The fog was lifting by the time Mondragon set foot out his doorЧquietly dressed, in dark blue trousers, black sweater, a heavy jacket and a navy knit cap pulled down low. He locked the door and set the small tripЧhe varied it: this time it was a sliver of wood that an opening of that door would crack without police. He had taken similar precautions with doors inside, that were always set a certain way, with trips that were not standard Sword teaching. He had learned certain things in prison. Some of the inmates of Nev Hettek's notorious hellhole had been professional thieves, waiting execution.
He turned up his collar against the chill and took a second good look around with a single glance. No weapon on him at the moment but a riverman's knife. He had left the uptown clothes at Boregy. He came and went into that house by the servants' entry. Like any good riverman with business with the highest banking interests in Merovingen.