"Gordon R. Dickson - Alien Art" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

an outfit to bring these here carvings to you. I was counting on selling
them to have money for ... I mean, I got to pay back, and it takes money
besides to hire an airboat to fly back in and fly out with that big
carving. If you could lend me just a little cash. ..."

"Sorry," said Lige. He spoke over Cary's shoulder to the hotel room
door. "Open. Forgive me, Mister Longan. I really have to pack. I can't
lend you anything. It's not my money; it's the money of the company
backing me. I have to account for it. Now, if you don't mind. . . ."

Cary let himself be pushed out. The door closed in his face. Numbly he
went down in the elevator and past the people in the street-level
register area. It was not until he found himself on the sidewalk outside
that his mind began to work again. He went down the street to look for a
public phone booth.

When he found one, he searched in his pocket for a smudged list of
numbers and dialed the first one.

"Harry?" he said, when the party answered. "Cary Longan here, Harry.


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Listen, I need an airboat to fly upcountry and back, just one day. Going
to make two thousand big units, Harry. Only thing is-"

"Hold it. Wait a minute," said the voice at the other end. "Are you
talking about credit? Because if you are, Longan, forget it. You get a
boat for cash-that's it."

"But listen, Harry-"

The phone went dead as the connection was broken from the other end of
the line.

Cary dialed the second number.

Fifteen minutes later, his wide shoulders bent with defeat, Cary
abandoned the phone booth. Still carrying the box, he walked on,
aimlessly. After a while it began to register on him that he was out of
the hotel area and into a section of small shops carrying farm goods and
equally small bars-in the back section of the City. He passed one bar as
the door opened and a man in a neatly pressed, slightly stained, white
suit lurched out.

Cary cat-stepped lightly aside to avoid being blundered into and went
on. A few steps later, however, his pace slowed. He stopped and went
back to the bar entrance. For a moment he hesitated there, shifting the