"Deathworld 3 - Harry Harrison V1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

"When I gamble, I win," Jason informed him with calm dignity. "I am broke because I have spent every last credit. I have purchased a spaceship, and it is on its way here now."

"Why?" Meta asked, speaking the question that was foremost in all their minds.

"Because I am leaving this planet and I'm taking you-and as many others as possible-with me."

Jason could read their mixed feelings easily. For better or for worse and it was certainly worse than any other planet in the known galaxy this was their home. Deadly and dangerous, but still theirs. He had to make his idea attractive, to gain their enthusiasm and make them forget any second thoughts that they might have. The appeal to their intelligence would come later; first he must appeal to their emotions. He knew well this single chink in their armor.

"I've discovered a planet that is far more deadly than Pyrrus."

Brucco laughed with cold disbelief, and they all nodded in agreement with him.

"Is that supposed to be attractive?" Pdies asked, the only Pyrran present who had been born outside the city and was therefore immune to their love of violence. Jason gave him a long, slow wink to ponder over while he went on to convince the others.

"I mean deadly because it contains the most dangerous life form ever discovered. Faster than a stingwing, more vicious than a horndevil, more tenacious than a clawhawk-there's no end to the list. I have found the planet where these creatures abide."

"You are talking about men, aren't you?" Kerk said, quicker to understand than the others, as usual.

"I am. Men who are more deadly than the ones here, because Pyrrans have been bred by natural selection to defend themselves against any dangers. Defend. What would you think of a world where men have been bred for some thousands of years to attack, to kill and destroy, without any thought of the consequences? What do you think the survivors of this genocidal conflict would be like?"

They considered it and, from their expressions, they did not think very much of the idea. They had taken sides, united against a common enemy in their thoughts, and Jason hurried on while he had them in agreement.

"I'm talking about a planet named 'Felicity,' apparently called this to sucker in the settlers, or for the same reason that big men are called Tiny.' I read about it some months back in a newsfax, just a small item about an entire mining settlement being wiped out. This is a hard thing to do. Mining-operation teams are tough and ready for trouble- and the John & John Minerals Company's are the toughest. Also-and equally important-John Company does not play for small stakes. So I got in touch with some friends and sent them some money to spread around, and they managed to contact one of the survivors. It cost me a good deal more to get accurate information from him, but it was well worth it. Here it is." He paused for dramatic effect and held up a sheet of paper.

"Well, read it. Don't just wave it at us," Brucco said, tapping the table irritably.

"Have patience," Jason told him. "This is an engineer's report, and it is very enthusiastic in a restrained engineering way. Apparently Felicity has a wealth of heavy elements, near the surface and confined to a relatively restricted area. Opencut mining should be possible and, from the way this engineer talks, the uranium ore sounds like it is rich enough to run a reactor without any refining."

"That's impossible," Mets broke in. "Uranium ore in a free state could not be so radioactive that-"

"Please," Jason said, holding both hands in the air. "I was just making a small exaggeration to emphasize a point. The ore is rich, let it go at that. The important thing now is that, in spite of the quality of the ore, John Company is not returning to Felicity. They had their fingers burned once, badly, and there are plenty of other planets they can mine with a lot less effort. Without having to face dragon-riding barbarians who appear suddenly out of the ground and attack in endless waves, destroying everything they come near."

"What is all that last bit supposed to mean?" Kerk asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine. This is the way the survivors described the massacre. The only thing we can be sure about it is that they were attacked by mounted men, and that they were licked."

"And this is the planet you wish us to go to," Kerk said. "It does not sound attractive. We can stay here and work our own mines."

"You've been working your mines for centuries, until some of the shafts axe five kilometers deep and producing only second-rate ore- but that's not the point. I'm thinking about the people here and what is going to happen to them. Life on this planet has been irreversibly changed. The Pyrrans who were capable of making an adjustment to the new conditions have done so. Now-what about the others?"

Their only answer was a protracted silence.

"It's a good question, isn't it? And a pertinent one. I'll tell you what's going to happen to the people left in this city. And when I tell you, try not to shoot me. I think you have all outgrown that kind of instant reflex to a difference of opinion. At least I hope that everyone in this room has. I wouldn't tell this to the people out there in the city. They would probably kill me rather than hear the truth. They don't want to find out that they are all condemned to certain death by this planet."

There was the thin whine of an electric motor as Mets's gun sprang halfway out of its power holster, then slipped back. Jason smiled at her and waggled his finger; she turned away coldly. The others controlled their trigger reflexes better.

"That is not true," Kerk said. "People are still leaving the city-"

"And returning in about the same numbers. Argument invalid. The ones who were able to leave have done so; only the hard core is left."