"Harrison, Harry- The Stainless Steel Rat Sings the Blues" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

"The planet-busting hit group called . . ."
"Called what?"
"I don't know. I haven't thought about it yet. Something way out and memorable.
Or kinky." I smiled and raised an inspired finger. "I have it! Ready? The group
is called . . . The Stainless Steel Rats!"
"Why?"
"Why not?"
The Admiral was not happy. His scowl turned to a snarl and he jabbed a
judgmental finger at me. "More coffee. Then tell me what you are. talking about
or I will kill you."
"Temper, temper, Admiral. Remember the old blood pressure. What I am talking
about is getting to Liokukae with all the equipment I need, along with some
strong-armed help. We are going to form a group of musicians called The
Stainless Steel Rats-"
"What musicians?"
"Me for one-and you are going to supply me with the rest. You did tell me that
you were head of League Navy Security?"
"I did. I am."
"Then summon your troops. Get one of your techs to research all your field
operators, all your rankings who have ever served in what passes for action in
this civilized universe. The search will be a simple one because we want to know
just one single fact about all of them. Are they musically inclined? Can they
play a musical instrument, sing, dance, whistle or even hum in tune? Get the
list and we will have our band."
He nodded over his coffee. "You're beginning to make sense. A pop group composed
only of security agents. But it will take time to put together, to organize, to
rehearse."
"Why?"
"So it will sound good, you moron."
"Who could tell the difference? Have you ever listened to
country-and-coal-mining music? Or Aqua Regia and her Plutonium Pals?"
"Point taken. So we get this group together and publicize them well so all
Liokukae knows about them-"
"And has heard their music-"
"And wants to hear more. On tour. Which is impossible. The planet is
quarantined."
"That is the beauty of my plan, Admiral. When the publicity peaks, and the fame
of the group is galaxy-wide, that is when the Rats will commit some crime so
awful that they will instantly be shipped off to this prison planet. Where they
will be received with great enthusiasm. And no suspicion. Where they will
investigate and find the alien artifact and get it back so I can have the
antidote. One other thing. Before we start operations I will need three million
Interstellar Credits. In coins that have been newly minted here."
"No way," he snarled. "Funds will be supplied as needed."
"You missed the point. That is my fee for conducting this operation. All
operating expenses are on top of that. Pay up or else."
"Or else what?"
"Or else I die in twenty-nine days and the operation dies and you get a black
mark on your service record."
Self-interest prodded him into an instant decision. "Why not. Those financially