"John DeChancie - Skyway 2 - Red Limit Freeway" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dechancie John)

Susan's face blanched. "What do you mean, Jake?" Although I was nearly drunk, I had been giving the
whole matter some thought. "First of all, we don't know what became of the Laputa." I turned to Lori.
"What would've happened if the Arfie pirates had taken over the ship?"
"I don't know. It never happened before."
"You have no idea what would have become of the passengers?"
"No, but I wouldn't put it past Arfies to do something terrible. Some of them are okay, but others..."
"But the ship has always managed to beat off these attacks. Right?"
"Yeah."
"So," I went on, turning back to John and his confreres, "there's every possibility that everyone aboard
that ship who was hot on my tail is alive and well and desirous of my blood. All of you are in danger
because of your association with me. And that goes for Lori, too ... and Carl."
John shook his head slowly, exasperation in his voice. "But surely there's somewhere in the Outworlds
we could hide. I simply can't believe-"
"Hide? From the Reticulans?"
The three Teelies looked grimly at me, then at each other. "I hate to bring it up," I said, "but we're going
to have to proceed on the assumption that all of us are sacred quarry." That put a damper on the
conversation for a while. I remembered I hadn't checked in with Sam.
"About time."
"Sorry. We were discussing what we should do. I think we've agreed that everyone should stick together
for now."
"A good idea."
"And we should try to get word on what happened to the Laputa. Is there anything on the air here in the
way of news?"
"No commercial or government stations, but there's an extensive skyband and amateur radio network.
I've been monitoring all channels. Nothing on the Laputa so far."
"Well, there's a lot of traffic between here and Splash, and that ferryboat served a vital function. If she
were lost, it'd be big news. Something should turn up."
"Right, I'll keep monitoring. Leave the key open, okay?"
"Sure." I put it on the table and activated the microcamera to give him something to look at.
"Nice place. The food any good?"
"Great," Darla told him.
Someone in the crowd had stood up and was speaking. He was like the rest: thick-thewed, long mussy
hair, dressed in a plaid flannel shirt and dungarees.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen! And ladies, if I may use both terms so loosely." He leered and stroked his wiry
red beard.
Rude noises from the crowd.
"I now call this joint, plenary meeting of the Brotherhood of the Boojum and the Sorority of the Snark to
order!" Shouts, jeers, applause.
"Order! I will have order! Sergeant at Arms, will you please see to it that any objectionable behavior is
dealt with according to the bylaws of this organization?"
Something hulking in a sheepskin jacket stood up and surveyed the crowd menacingly. He got no takers.
Everyone shut up.
"Thank you, Brother Flaherty." The hulk sat down as the one with the red beard took a long pull from his
mug, draining it. "The bar is now closed!" he pronounced, banging the mug down on the tabletop.
"Booo!"
"Be reasonable, old man!"
"Who cares? We got three pitchers."
He ignored it. "I now call upon Brother Finch to read the minutes of the last meeting."
Another logger lurched to his feet. "The bloody stupid meeting was called to order by Acting-President
Brother Fitzgore. The minutes of the last bloody stupid meeting were read. Weren't any old business,