"R. A. Lafferty - Stories 2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lafferty R A)

"Twenty," and a few more, I think. We don't all count the same when
we get to the big numbers. But I think four is too many to give for a food
train. What will happen when we run out of hostages? Who'll give the big
damn to subscribe a train for us then, when we have no more important people
to trade to the important people off-island? Here, sign this, limp-leg John,
and the Cloud will take it back to them."
The mayor read the release and signed it. Each of the five feudal
leaders looked it over in turn then. Several of them could read a little (it
was for this reason that they were the mayor's contacts), and it would he
hard for Mayor John to write anything phony on that release and slip it past
them. The mayor had to sign these releases every time a food train came, and
he knew what would happen when they ran out of hostages. The blackmail would
be over when the last hostage of value or affection to someone off-island
had been turned over for a food train. The off-island people would let the
island rot. The trains had been the only food source for the island for
years.
The Cloud took the release and went out through the smouldering
corridor and into the broken streets to the food train that came once a
month through the last not-completely broken tunnel.
"Something else came on the food trail, gimpy John," the Duke said
uneasily.
"Well, what, what was it? Duke, Duke, you didn't get hold of a saw
so I could saw my leg off, did you?"
"Nah. You're not supposed to saw your leg off. You're supposed to
stay here just like you are. Who's going to sign for the food trains and
hostage transfers if our mayor saws his leg off and runs away?
"John Mayor, there's three other men came on that food train. These
are funny men. They might even be important enough men that we can hold them
for hostages. They brought some heavy kegs and boxes with them, John, and
they even conned some of the colts into carrying them over here for them. We
can't figure out what kind of men they are, Mayor. They look at us and we
look at them, and we both got sparks in our eyes. They are in the building
now, Mayor, and they want to see you."
"Show them in, spook Duke, the mayor is always available to his
constituents."
"Constituents these are not," said the Lob. "They are washed-out
pale fellows, but they are solid."
"And one of those kegs of theirs got a smell I like, Mayor," said
the Sky. "I believe I remember that smell like it was born in me. You get
that keg, Mayor."
"And those long crates got a heft I like," said the Wideman. "I
almost know what will be in those crates. You get those crates, Mayor."
"Those square boxes got a feel I like," said the Lob. "I almost know
what short-handled things will be in those square boxes. And the smallest
package has a brass glint through a rip in it. You get those square boxes
and that smallest package, Mayor."
"I don't understand this at all," said John the mayor, rolling his
red-rimmed eves in his constant pain. "Let the men and their baggage come
in."