"Foster, Alan Dean - Star Wars - Splinter Of The Mind's Eye" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

"No, no trouble," Luke assured him, forcing a smile. The man didn't leave. "Can I help you, maybe."
"Not you. It's clear what you are, miner." The bureaucrat's oily gaze shifted to Leia. "I'm more curious about your companion here." Leia didn't look up at him.
"Why?" Luke wondered cheerfully. "What's the problem?"
"Well, she dresses a little like a miner," the man said, "but as Elarles here," and he indicated the attendant, "noted, her hands would seem to indicate some other profession."
With a start, Luke also noticed the Princess' hands: soft, pale, uncalloused, clearly the hands of anyone but a manual worker. Luke's years on his uncle's farm had equipped his body, including his hands, to play the role of simple miner, but Princess Organa had probably spent her time handling only booktapes, never an excavator or pitter.
He thought furiously. "No, she's... uh, I bought her." Leia twitched, stared at him a moment before returning resolutely to her food. "Yes, she's a servant of mine. Spent all my earnings on her." He tried to sound indifferent, shrugged as he returned to his eating. "She's not much, of course." Her shoulders shook. "But she was the best I could afford. And she's kind of amusing to have around, though she tends to get out of line at times and I have to slap her down."
The bureaucrat nodded understandingly, smiled for the first time. "I sympathize, young man. Sorry to interrupt your meal."
"No bother," Luke called as the man returned to his own table.
The Princess glared up at him. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"
"No, of course not. I had to do it, to save us."
She rubbed her cheek. "And that servant-girl story?"
"It was the first logical thing I could think of," he insisted. "Besides, it explains you as well as anything could." He sounded pleased. "No one will question you once the word gets around."
"Gets around?" She rose. "If you think, Luke Skywalker, that I'm going to act as your servant until-"
"Hey, honey... you okay?" a new voice inquired. Luke looked at the old woman who'd appeared next to the Princess. Placing a firm hand on the Princess's shoulder, she exerted a gentle but unyielding pressure. Still slightly stunned, the Princess sat down slowly.
Luke eyed the woman warily as she pulled a chair up to their table. "We haven't met. And I don't remember inviting you to join us. So if you'll just leave my servant and me alone."
"Oh, I wouldn't bother you two, boy," the woman insisted in a tone suggesting subtly that she knew something they didn't. She jerked her head toward the Princess.
"Ain't surprised we haven't met before. You two are strangers here, ain't you?"
That statement seemed to snap the Princess out of her paralysis. She gave the old woman a startled stare, then looked away... anywhere but at those knowing, accusing eyes.
"What makes you say a ridiculous thing like that?" Luke stammered.
She leaned conspiratorially close. "Old Halla has a pretty good eye for faces. You're not residents of this town and I ain't seen you in none of the other four. Sick and decrepit as this world is, I know all the sickies and decrepits inhabiting it. You're new to me."
"We... we came in on the last ship," Luke alibied blindly.
She grinned at him, unimpressed. "Did you now? Tryin' to fool old Halla, ain't you? No, don't look so frightened, boy and girl. Your face is turnin' white as the inside of a trooper's belly. So you're strangers... That's good, good. I need strangers. I need you to help me."
The Princess swerved to stare wonderingly at her. "You want us to help you?"
"Surprised, ain't you?" Halla cackled.
"Help you do what?" Luke queried in confusion.
"Just help," she said, casually cryptic. "You help me, I help you. And I know you need help, because there are no strangers on this world, and yet you're here. Want to know how I know you're strangers?" She leaned over the table again and wagged a knowing finger at Luke.
"Because, young man, the Force is strong within you."
Luke smiled sickly at her. "The Force is a superstition, a myth people swear by. It's used to frighten children."
"Is that so?" Halla sat back and folded her arms in satisfaction. "Well then, boy, the superstition is strong in you. Much stronger than in anyone else I've met on this forsaken scoop of mud."
Abruptly, Luke was peering closer at her. "What is it, Luke?" the Princess asked, seeing the expression that had come over his face. He ignored her.
"You said your name was Halla." The woman nodded slowly, once. "You have a little of the Force about you, too."
"More than a little, sapling," she argued Indignantly. "I am a master of the Force, a master!"
Luke said nothing. "You want proof then?" she went on. "Watch!"
Concentrating hard on a spice shaker in the middle of the table, under one of the spigots, she made it quiver slightly. It bounced once against the table, twice, and moved several centimeters to its left. Sitting back, Halla took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from her brow.
"There, you see? A little of the Force, indeed!"
"I'm convinced," Luke confessed, with a curious look toward the curious Princess, a look that said he was anything but impressed by such parlor tricks. "You do have a lot of the Force about you."
"I can do other things when I want to, too," Halla announced proudly. "Two manipulators of the Force... we're destined to join hands, eh?"
"I'm not so sure..." the Princess began.
"Don't worry about me, little pretty," Halla instructed her. She reached out to touch the Princess' hand. Leia drew hers away uncertainly. Halla studied her, smiled, grabbed the wrist hard.
"You think I'm crazy, don't you? You think old Halla's crazy."
The Princess shook her head. "No... I didn't say that. I never said that."
"Eh, but you thought it, didn't you?" When Leia didn't reply, Halla shrugged. If she was offended, she didn't show it. "No matter, no matter." She let go of the Princess' wrist and Leia drew it away slowly, rubbed it with her other hand.
"Why do you want to help us?" Luke inquired firmly. "Assuming just for the sake of discussion that we need any help and that your guesses are right."
"Just for the sake of discussion, boy," she mimicked him, "I'll get to that. Tell me what you need from me."
"Now look, old woman," Luke began threateningly.
She wasn't intimidated. "It won't work with me, swaddle-clothes. You don't want it widely advertised that you're strangers here, do you?" Her voice rose slightly with the last, and Luke made shushing motions at her, glancing around to see if anyone had overheard.
"Okay. Since you know we're strangers, you know what we need. We have to get off this planet." The Princess gave him a warning look, but he shook it off.
"No, relax. She does have the Force about her." He turned back to face the oldster. "Who are you, anyway?"
"Just old Halla," the woman declared blankly. "And you just want to get off Mimban. You didn't pick me a simple one, did you." She frowned slyly. "Say, how did you two get here, anyways? You can't convince me you came on the regular supply ship."
"Regular supply ship?" Leia exclaimed. "You mean Circarpous knows about this installation?"