"Paul Di Filippo - Shipbreaker" - читать интересную книгу автора (Di Filippo Paul)

The gangboss for Klom's shift was a Quetzal from Muntjac, named Rapaille. The amputation of
Rapaille's wings necessitated by a clumsy curandero after a barroom brawl had long ago left the
avianoform ill-tempered and unforgiving. As meager compensation for his lost wings, Rapaille spent every
last spare taka and paisa to adorn his priapic cockscomb with a variety of gaudy baubles. Today, setting
out for their first foray to the Vixen hulk, Rapaille wore several sparkling garnets and a lozenge of
nightmare amber piercing his fleshy ruff.

Aboard one of the wallowing, unroofed ocean transports, still docked, Rapaille marshaled his
workers, a motley pack of hard-limbed bruisers representing a dozen heterogeneous races. Mounting
one of the grimy seats to command more attention, Rapaille commenced a small speech. His beak
clacked between syllables, and his narrow orange tongue stabbed the air.
 "Listen closely, you scuzz-buckets! This ship has already been partially stripped by its former
owners. They've taken most of the furnishings and fixtures. You won't find any old nesting materials to
sniff, nor any dainty female undergarments to hug to your bosom."

An anonymous voice called out, "How about wings? Any chance of glomming a pair of those
onboard?"

Rapaille scrunched his beady eyes and gurgled wordlessly, before regaining his self-control. "Quiet!
The next wisecrack will earn someone a lost shift! Pay attention! It is equally unlikely you'll discover any
valuable personal trinkets or artwork, although I don't rule out a few overlooked nanosculptures or
parasite jewelry. So you might as well just forget about such easy booty. Any individual performance
rewards will come from the neat and speedy accumulation of well-known structures. We're after control
ganglia, matter-modems and entertainment nodes, for instance. Nexial splitters pay well too. Several
teams have already been dispatched to handle the disentanglers and decoherers. Other groups have been
assigned the bridge. But aside from those areas, we have free access to the rest of the ship. Our goal is
to finish over the next few months at the same time as the others, so that we can all move on to breaking
up the hull itself. Do you all have your downloaded ship schematics?"

Several breakers held aloft their industrial-grade readers, battered boxes good for little more than
displaying pre-formatted audiovisual files. No ensouled devices were to be found on Asperna, at least
among the lower castes.

"All right, then! Take your seats, and we'll be off!"

Before Rapaille could step off his own bench, Klom pushed forward through his fellows to confront
the gangboss. Strapped across Klom's massive torso were various prybars, clamps, spreaders, holdfasts,
desiccant packs and other tools. Slung in a holster at one hip was his bulky watercutter.

Even atop his seat, Rapaille found himself staring at Klom's chest rather than his face, until he raised
his scale-rimmed eyes. "Yes, our big empty-headed man-ape from Chaulk. What do you want?"

"Are we allowed to go into the decommissioned areas?"

Rapaille let out a tweet of amazement. "The decommissioned areas? What are you interested in?
Dust and bones? Faded signage and outmoded tech? Slavering senescent slop? That's all you'll find
there!"

Klom blinked once, then said, "Are we allowed to go into the decommissioned areas?"