"Foster, Alan Dean - Flinx - Bloodhype" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

Equally incongruous was the group of peppermint sticks which protruded from
the left pocket of his leather jacket. Hammurabi neither smoked nor
flashed. His I vices were confined to milder liquors such as ale, fine ones
like brandy, and sweets Е not all of them peppermint, nor in stick form.

There was a lot of cargo; the lanes of crates and casings were long, high,
and shadowed. So he didn't notice the thieves until he was right on top of
them.

There were two, totally absorbed in rifling the contents of a yellow?orange
plastic case bound with metal strips. The container was the size and shape
of a coffin, which it wasn't. Mal would remember loading a stiff. Melted
plastic showed at one end where the seal had been burnt away.

Mal could have done several things. He might have taken another two steps
forward and inquired in his most sepulchral ship?master's tones as to the
object of the gentlemen's intrusion. He could have walked over and offered
casual, even flippant commentary. He could have slipped quietly away and
buzzed for the port police.

However, men who spend their lives riding the saddle of an artificial field
with the mass of a sun (a) know when men will and when they will not react
favorably to orders, (b) are aware that the derring?do of tri-dee heroes,
when attempted in real life, seduces suicide, and (c) do not ran for help.

So what Hammrlrabi did was gut his hundred and twenty?five kilos under a
crate not quite as big as himself and heave it in the direction of the two
preoccupied paracreds. Thin by way of vetting them off?balance.

Unfortunately, the ship?master once again misjudged his own strength. The
crate was intercepted by the skull of the nearest man, who had chosen that
moment to sense Hammurabi's presence and whirl, gun in hand. It was an
unequal contest, which the man lost. Bout crashed to the floor.

The other intruder made a dive for the dropped laser and reached it jest as
Mal landed on his bat's. The thief gained the weapon and lost his breath
simultaneously. He squirmed.

Mal got the arm with the vicious?looking little gun in a modified arm?bar,
one knee planted firmly at the shoulder joint. He raised the arm a little,
up and back. The man screamed shrilly and dropped the pistol.

Leaning carefully forward, Mal reached down and gathered in the gun. The
stock was still warm. Obviously it had been used recently. He hoped it had
only been used on the crate.

The thief was fifteen cms shorter and a good sixty kilos lighter than the
ship?master. He looked around wildly, as much as his awkward position
permitted, and moaned. Apparently he'd caught sight of his companion.