"Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 12 - Trouble Magnet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

his decision.

No. He had chosen this course with forethought and intention, and would not renegotiate with himself now.
Coiled on his lap as he relaxed in the forward command chair, Pip glanced up at him curiously, unable to decide
whether her master was unsettled or merely being his usual intensely thoughtful self.

тАЬAre you all right?тАЭ

Always watching, the ship-mind. Ever attentive to his needsтАФeven when he didnтАЩt voice any.

тАЬIтАЩm fine. Situation?тАЭ

тАЬCutting orbit of outermost moon, of which there are three: one Lunarian, two small and irregular. We have been
under non-hailing-system tracking for some time now. Initial demands for identification preparatory to
assignment of orbital position have been received. I anticipate shortly follow-up requests demanding
proportionately more significant information.тАЭ

Flinx nodded to himself. тАЬNothing out of the ordinary. Respond with, oh, description of minor outsystem cargo.
Low value, nothing likely to arouse curiosity even here.тАЭ He rose from the chair. тАЬIf the specs on Visaria are
accurate, the last thing we want is for local authorities to take an interest in our nonexistent cargo with an eye
toward appropriating a share of it.тАЭ

тАЬEdible plant matter en masse is usually a sufficiently bland manifest to put forward.тАЭ This time there was no
sarcasm in the ship-mindтАЩs voice. тАЬA quantity of easily traded but undistinguished varieties unobtainable locally
and insufficiently exotic to command elevated prices.тАЭ

The melancholic master of the Teacher smiled. тАЬYes, that should bore Customs adequately. Speaking as a
onetime thief myself, I know that even the most avaricious thieves find it hard to get themselves worked up at the
prospect of stealing vegetables.тАЭ

Ever efficient, the TeacherтАЩs resourceful response to the inquiries of the planetary arrival authority elicited a
response that was reassuringly insipid. As predicted, naught interest was shown in either the battered, undersized
cargo vessel or its outsystem тАЬcargoтАЭ of nondescript compacted vegetable product. As adroit as his ship, Flinx
took a few moments to study up on the imaginary consignment. He would not take the chance of being caught


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 TroubleMagnet

out should some eager immigration interviewer, be it man or machine, request actual details about the makeup of
his shipment.

He dressed appropriately in his usual simple, dun-colored, two-piece work attire and service belt. The garb was
utterly unadorned, devoid of so much as a simple insignia or integrated impression. Combined with a pair of
worn, comfortable, slip-on flexboots, his outfit clearly stamped him for anyone to see as that ubiquitous traveler
known as No One in Particular. From the time he had been old enough to choose his own clothes, it had been his
favored identity. By the time he had finished securing the contents of a small travel pack and taking extra time to
ensure that his medipak was fully stocked, planetary authority had assigned the Teacher orbital coordinates.

Familiar with its ownerтАЩs preferences as well as his desire never to waste time, the shipтАЩs smaller shuttle