"Murray Leinster - Space Platform" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leinster Murray)

"You fellas wait," said Haney angrily, to Joe and the rest. "There's a storeroom out back. Sid'll let us use
it."
But the Chief pushed back his chair.
"Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "We're watchin' this."
Haney said with elaborate courtesy, "You mind, Braun? Want to get some friends of yours, too?"
"I got no friends," said Braun. "let's go."
The Chief went authoritatively to the owner of Sid's Steak Joint. He paid the bill, talking. The owner of
the place nodded without excitement. It was not unparalleled for him to be asked for the use of that
storeroom so two men could batter each other undisturbed. Bootstrap was a lawabiding town, because to
get fired from work on the Platform was to lose a place on the most important job in the world. So it was
necessary to settle quarrels in private.
The Chief leading, they filed out through the kitchen and out of doors. The storeroom lay beyond. The
Chief went in and switched on the light. He looked about and was satisfied. The room was empty except
for stacked cartons in one corner. Braun was already taking off his coat.
"You want rounds and stuff?" demanded the Chief.
"I want fight," said Braun thickly.
"Okay, then," said the Chief. "No kicking or gouging. A man's down, he has a chance to get up. That's all
the rules. Right?"
Haney grunted assent as in his turn he stripped off his coat. He handed the coat to Joe. He faced his
antagonist.
It was a curious atmosphere for a fight. There were merely the plank walls of the storeroom with a single
dangling light in the middle and an unswept floor beneath. The Chief stood in the dorway, frowning. It
didn't feel right to him. There was not enough hatred in evidence to justify it. There was doggedness and
resolution enough, but Braun was deathly white, and his face was con-
tortedтАФbut not with the lust to batter and maul; it was something else.
The two men faced each other. And then the stocky, swarthy Braun swung at Haney. The blow had sting
in it, but hardly more. It almost looked as if Braun were trying to work himself-up to the fight he'd insisted
on finishing. Haney countered with a swing that glanced off Braun's cheek. And then they bored in at each
other, slugging without science or skill.
Joe watched. Braun launched a blow that hurt, but Haney sent him reeling back. He came in doggedly
again, and swung and swung, but he had no idea of boxing. His only idea was to slug. He did. Haney had
been peevish rather than angry. Now he began to glower. He began to take the fight to Braun.
He knocked Braun down. Braun staggered up and rushed. A wildly flailing blow landed on Haney's ear.
He doubled Braun up with a wallop to the midsection. Braun came back, fists swinging.
Haney closed one eye for him. He came back. Haney shook him head to foot with a chest blow. He came
back. Haney split his lip and loosened a tooth. He still came back.
The Chief said sourly, "This ain't a fight! Quit it, Haney! He don't know how!"
Haney tried to draw back, but Braun swarmed on him, striking fiercely until Haney had to floor him again.
The stocky man dragged himself up and rushed at Haney and was knocked down again. Haney stood over
him, panting furiously.
"Quit it, y'fool! What's the matter with you?"
Braun started to get up again. The Chief interfered and held him while Haney glowered.
"He ain't going to fight any more, Braun," pronounced the Chief firmly. "You ain't got a chance. The
fight's over. You had enough."
Braun was bloody and horribly battered, but he panted. "He's got enough?"
"Are you out of your head?" demanded the Chief. "He ain't got a mark on him!"
"I ain't got enough," insisted Braun, "till he's got enough."
His breath was coming in soblike gasps, the result of bodyblows. It hadn't been a fight. It was a beating.
But Braun struggled to get clear.
"You got enough, Haney." Mike the midget broke in. "You're satisfied. Tell him so!"