"Robert Goulart - Gadget Man" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goulart Robert)

"I already have been promised it," said Milo Kendry, who'd introduced himself earlier.
"Bullshit," said Rollo. "Cousin James is our guest, you lout."
"Don't bullshit me," replied Milo. He grabbed up the biggest pumpkin and smashed it on Rollo's head.
"Don't go spoiling the game," said another Kendry. He backed and kicked one of the remaining pumpkins. It rose up toward the metal-raftered ceiling, spun awkwardly, fell toward the musicians' stand.
A dozen Kendrys were on the narrow makeshift platform, playing amplified fiddles and banjos. The Kendry with the hand microphone had been singing a song whose lyrics consisted of the word "stomp" reiterated. The pumpkin dropped on the end of the mike and was impaled there. The singer went on singing.
Rollo snatched a coil of rusty barbed wire out of his jacket pocket, wrapped it around his fist and swung on Milo. He roared, shook pumpkin seeds from his locks, and slashed again.
"You like to give me tetanus, you dummy," shouted Milo. "Lockjaw or something, you dumb bunny." He kicked Rollo in the stomach.
Another Kendry pulled Hecker away from the thwarted game. "Hello, Cousin Jim. I'm your Uncle Fred. What do you think about Jess's last will and testament?"
"You mean Jane's father?"
"Jess left all his possessions to her, he says. I don't think he's been quite right since Jane's mother passed on. Army got her with a new gas they introduced that year," said Uncle Fred. He was broad and tall, but gone to fat. "Insurgents shouldn't have a girl up front. Women are for homebody stuff. You feel like punching somebody around. A woman is handy for that, too. I used to like to stump them, but I'm aging beyond that. Women are okay for stumping but not to lead a band of guerrillas. You getting enough to eat?"
"Yes, fine," said Hecker.
"See these teeth," said Uncle Fred, grinning. "My third set this month. Stole them in a raid on the Santa Monica Sector. These younger kids, their idea of fun is to kick an old man in the face. I don't mind their funning some, but it costs me a set of teeth every damn time. You get old and you get sentimental about your teeth. That will of Jess's, though, is a bad thing. Isn't that the way you see it?"
"I figure Jess knows what he's doing," Hecker ducked a flying fragment of pumpkin.
"This conclave isn't like the ones we used to have," shouted Uncle Fred.
A man with feathery white hair stepped up and tapped Uncle Fred on the bicep. He was a straight-standing man, tall and leathery. "Complaining about something?"
"Just the food, Jess. Food's not like it used to be. Chicken isn't like it used to be. Potatoes aren't like they used to be. Even the lettuce is different."
"You aren't like you used to be either," said Jess Kendry the leader of the clan and of the guerrillas. He smiled at Hecker. "You're supposed to be Cousin Jim?"
"Good to see you," said Jess, holding out his hand. "Be sure you get to say hello to Jane." He narrowed his left eye, said to Uncle Fred, "Jane's a bright girl, a born leader. Fred'll tell you that."
"I already have, Jess."
A grinning Kendry jumped on Jess's back, and Jess, without looking around, bent and airplane-spun the grinning Kendry off and into the nearest wall. "There's my daughter Jane over there. Trot over and pay your respects, Cousin Jim."
Hecker had noticed the girl before, had her pointed out by relatives in the crowd. She was tall, nearly five feet eight slender. Her hair was darker now than in the days of the Rehab pictures. It was long and straight. She was wearing a pair of boy's tapered khaki trousers and a sleeveless white pullover. Her tan face was slightly flushed. Hecker edged toward her. On the way, someone put a chicken wing in his hand, and someone else punched him in the kidneys. "Thought I'd introduce myself, Cousin Jane," said Hecker.
She had been standing silent, not looking at anything. She blinked her gray eyes, and a slight smile touched her lips. "You're Jim. I had something to discuss with you."
"Oh?"
"Problem of a lost cat."
"His name is?"
"Burrwick," she said. "He spends much of his time down at the waterfront."
"Around Giacomo's?"
"That's him." Her hand touched his arm. "Walk with me over near that exit, and I can talk to you."
"Fine," said Hecker.
She studied his face as they moved toward the arched doorway. "You didn't get hurt here, did you?"
"No, earlier." Hecker had forgotten the traces of the hopper crash on his face.
Jane stopped, back to the wall. "You know," she said quietly, "something about what we're up to."
"You want to topple the Junta."
"And you work for them."
"The Social Wing isn't always obliged to agree with the Junta."
"Perhaps," said the girl. "I took a chance on that. The Kendrys and those who've joined us are getting blamed for these riots. That kind of rebellion, burning and looting, I'm not opposed to. If the motives behind it could be used by us. From what I've picked up, these riots won't do us any good. They really are prompted by someone on the outside. Someone who wants to use them against the Junta."
"You sure?"
"I've gathered enough fragments of information to put together a picture," said Jane. "There are people in the Republic of Southern California who think the Junta is much too mild. I'm afraid they're the ones behind the riots in the suburbs. Should they take over, which is a possibility, conditions will grow even worse. Our attempts to get a good government for the Republic will be set back. It's difficult enough now."
"Who," asked Hecker, "do you think is behind these riots and how do they do it?"
"The "how" I don't know," Jane said. "As to "who", the only name I have is not really a name. I keep hearing about somebody called Gadget Man."
"Gadget Man?"
The girl said, "I know where you can start looking for a more definite lead. There's some link between this Gadget Man and Nathan E. Westlake, though I haven't been able to investigate that yet. I feel it's time to bring in someone official on this."
"Nathan E. Westlake, the former Vice-president of the United States?"
"That Westlake, yes. Get to him and investigate. You should find out something."
"He's running that dance pavilion up in the Santa Monica Sector now . . . " began Hecker. He stopped, frowned at the bandstand.
Jane's glance followed his. "What is it?"
"There, by the music," he said carefully. "That's Second Lieutenant Same."
The girl caught his knobby hand. "The Manipulation Council man. You didn't tell him to come here?"
"No," said Hecker. "I haven't called in a report since I left Social Wing headquarters. They already knew, of course, that I had a contact to make someplace in San Emanuel. There must be a leak in S.W. somewhere, Same must have had spotters around town waiting for me to show up. Then I was followed here." He looked straight at her. "I didn't set you up, Jane. It is you Same wants, though."
The girl watched his face again. "Yes, okay, you aren't lying. He must have men surrounding us."