"Brad Ferguson - To Tell The Troof" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ferguson Brad)

she could see no way to pay it off. He hadnтАЩt quite saved her life, but he
had done much to heal her and make her feel at home. What could she
do? SheтАЩd have slept with him willingly тАФ sheтАЩd gone to bed with worse
and for less тАФ but McAleer was a professed celibate and seemed to take
his vows seriously. Edith respected McAleer for that and didnтАЩt press the
issue, but it made her problem that much tougher to solve.
Edith did not have it in her to sponge off McAleer indefinitely. Edith
hated owing anyone. Cash and carry, that was Edith.
Worry about it later, she told herself. Right now, it was a beautiful
morning, and Market Day тАФ held every four days, or twice a week, as the
Troof reckoned time тАФ was already well under way. Edith had quickly
found that she loved the smaller bazaar held on the other days of the Troof
week, and the way the Troof dickered with each other over even the most
minor transactions. The action on Market Days was even better. Watching
two blue, bulbous and excited Troof gesturing frantically and shrieking at
each other in the spirit of hard bargaining was one of those sights in life
Edith was glad she hadnтАЩt missed.
To her great surprise, Edith had found on her first day out that the
Troof seemed to be incredibly interested in her. She would have thought
that, given McAleerтАЩs experience, she would have evoked no more than a
yawn from the jaundiced natives тАФ but, instead, they approached her in
friendship and made constant inquiries about her health. Edith thought it
impolitic to mention any of this to McAleer тАФ at least until she found out
the reason behind it.
Today was no different. Edith had been approached and greeted warmly
by several Troof on her way to the square. Is it because IтАЩm a woman? she
wondered. Maybe. TheyтАЩve never seen one before, after all; the
exploration team years ago, and then the traders тАФ they were all males,
according to Father Mort. How boring! Damn all sexists, anyway. Or is
it because of the way I arrived here тАФ the crash? No, that doesnтАЩt make
any sense.
Edith strolled through the town square. Market Day was, indeed, in full
swing. Scores of merchants lined the perimeter of the square, their wares
neatly placed on large, multicolored rugs laid on the stone plaza. A few
merchants had crude but neat wooden booths set up in a open rectangle
around the center of the square. Hundreds of Troof milled about, and here
and there squeaky cries of outrage could be heard as buyers and sellers
attempted to strike deals.
Edith headed for her тАЬfavoriteтАЭ booth, HaraskaтАЩs. Haraska sold
agricultural products grown on a farm he owned at some distance from
town, and seemed to do well at it. The smell of the booth reminded Edith
of a vegetable stand in the neighborhood where she grew up, so she liked
hanging around it. Haraska was also popular with the other merchants;
there were usually a few standing around talking to Haraska between
sales.
тАЬHey, Edith!тАЭ came HaraskaтАЩs voice. тАЬOver here today. Visit?тАЭ Edith
looked around and spotted Haraska, waving; there were two other Troof
with him at his booth. She smiled at Haraska and headed over.
тАЬHow you feeling?тАЭ Haraska asked. тАЬBetter?тАЭ
тАЬYes. Almost well. And you?тАЭ