"Murray Leinster - The Pirates of Zan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leinster Murray)

only one place on the planet, in fact, where he could be safe. And ironically, he wouldn't have been safe there if he'd
been officially charged with murder. But since th& police had tactfully failed to mention murder, he could get at least
breathing-time by taking refuge in the Interstellar Embassy.
He headed for it, bowling along splendidly. The police truck hummed on its way until the great open square before
the embassy became visible. The embassy was not that of a single planet, of course. By pure necessity every
human-inhabited world was independent of all others, but the Interstellar Diplomatic Service represented humanity at
large upon each individual globe. Its ambassador was the only person who Hoddan could even imagine as listening
to him, and that because he came from off-planet, as Hoddan did. But he mainly counted upon a breathing-space in
the em-bassy, during which to make more plans as yet unformed and unformable. He began, though, to see some
virtues in the
simple, lawless, piratical world on which he had spent his childhood.
Another police truck rushed frantically toward him down a side street. Stun-pistols made little pinging noises
against the body of his vehicle. He put on more speed, but the other truck overtook him. It ranged alongside, its
occupants bellowing stern commands to halt. And then, just before they swerved to force him off the highway, he
swung in-stead and they crashed thunderously. One of his own wheels collapsed. He drove on with the crumpled
wheel producing an up-and-down motion that threatened to make him seasick. Then he heard yelling behind him. The
cops had piled out of the truck and were in pursuit on foot.
The tall, stone wall of the embassy was visible, now, beyond the monument to the first settlers of Walden. He
leaped to the ground and ran. Stun-pistpl bolts, a little beyond their effective range, stung like fire. They spurred him
on.
The gate of the embassy was closed. He bolted around the corner and scrambled up the conveniently rugged
stones of the wall. He was well aloft before the cops spotted him. Then they fired at him industriously and the charges
crackled all around him.
But he'd reached the top and had both arms over the parapet before a charge hit his legs and paralyzed them. He
hung fast, swearing at his bad luck.
Then hands grasped his wrists. A white-haired man ap-peared on the other side of the parapet. He took a good,
solid grip, and heaved. He drew Hoddan over the top of the wall and helped him down to the walkway.
"A near thing, that!" said the white-haired man pleasantly. "I was taking a walk in the garden when I heard the
excitement. I got to the wall just in time." He paused, and added, "I do hope you're not just a common murderer, we
can't offer asylum to such. But if you're a political of-fender . . ."
Hoddan began to try to rub sensation and usefulness back into his legs. Feeling came back, and was not pleasant.
"I'm the Interstellar Ambassador," said the white-haired man politely.
"My name," said Hoddan bitterly," is Bron Hoddan and I'm guilty of trying to save the Power Board millions of
credits a year!" Then he said more bitterly, "If you want ^to know, I ran away from Zan to try to be a civilized man and
live a civilized life. It was a mistake! Now I'm to be permanently jailed for using my brains!"
 The ambassador cocked his head thoughtfully to one side.
"Zan?" he said. "The name Hoddan fits with that some-how ._ . . Oh, yes! Space-piracy! They say the people of
Zan capture and loot a dozen or so ships a year, only there's no way to prove it on them.. And there's a man named
Hoddan who's supposed to head a particularly ruffianly gang."
"My grandfather," said Hoddan defiantly. "What are you going to do about it? I'm outlawed! I've defied the
planetary government! I'm disreputable by descent, and worst of all I've tried to use my brains!"
"Deplorable!" said the ambassador mildly. "I don't mean outlawry is deplorable, you understand, or defiance of the
government, or being disreputable. But trying to use one's brains is bad business! A serious offense! Are your legs
all right now? Then come on down with me and I'll have you given some dinner and some fresh clothing. Offhand," he
added amiably, "it would seem that using one's brains would be classed as a political offense rather than a criminal
one on Walden. We'll see."
Hoddan gaped up at him.
"You mean there's a possibility thatтАФ"
"Of course!" said the ambassador in surprise. "You haven't phrased it that way, but you're actually a rebel. A
revolution-ist. You defy authority and tradition and governments and such things. Naturally the Interstellar