"Jane Lindskold - Endpoint Insurance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lindskold Jane)

the game is well-known in some circles, I sometimes have trouble getting into a
high-stakes game. If any of my local acquaintances recognized me, theyтАЩd figure I
was looking for a hot game. If I was lucky, theyтАЩd even pretend not to see me.
Courtesy, you know.
I was deep into a game of seven card stud, the Fyoly-nese version that offers some
real challenges when calculating the odds, when I heard the distant rumble of a large
ship landing out in the field. I didnтАЩt think anything of it. Many large ships arrived
after dark. ItтАЩs all one and the same to the shipтАЩs pilots and eases things for system
traffic control by decreasing the amount of competition from routine daytime air
traffic.
Several hands later, I noticed an increase in the amount of activity outside the gaming
parlor. тАЬParlorтАЭ was really a courtesy title. The place I was frequenting was little
more than a tent. As the night was warm, the side-flaps were up to let in some fresh
air.
тАЬNew visitors,тАЭ grumbled one of the other players, a stately, plump young man who
had introduced himself as Buck. тАЬWouldnтАЩt think there was anyone left on Bath to
fight the war.тАЭ
BuckтАЩs use of the euphemism тАЬvisitorтАЭ rather than the blunter тАЬrefugeeтАЭ labeled him
a Batherite, as did his accent. As he had obviously gotten out of the system rather
than fight, I thought his criticism less than fair, but didnтАЩt say anything. One of the
other players-a weathered older woman-was more vocal.
тАЬYou sound like you want the war to continue,тАЭ she said, her voice rusty with
exhaustion. She had introduced herself as Cookie and carried with her the scent of
curry, onions, and sugar.
тАЬI donтАЩt!тАЭ Buck protested, glancing at Cookie, then back at his cards. тАЬI was just
making a comment.тАЭ
тАЬAre you in?тАЭ asked one of the other players, his eagerness betraying a good hand.
тАЬI am,тАЭ Buck said. Cookie nodded, pursing her lips into a thin, angry line.
Play went on for several hands without further comment. The Batherite War wasnтАЩt
something the systemтАЩs natives liked talking about. It wasnтАЩt just a political thing.
Some of the weapons the Absolutist fanatics employed embarrassed even those who
favored their cause.
The cards were with me, but the increased activity outside of the tent distracted me
from my game. I misplayed what should have been a sure thing and pushed back
from the table.
тАЬIтАЩll quit while IтАЩm about even,тАЭ I said. Actually, I was ahead, but they didnтАЩt need
to know. Cookie grunted something that might have been good-bye. No one else
seemed to notice my departure.
Outside, the market was busier than it had been for several days. It seemed as if all
the Bathtub had turned out to see the new arrivals who, their arms filled with bundles
or small children, hurried down the road toward the registration center. A few pulled
small wagons, but such were rare.
Apparently, most of the refugees had been limited to what they could carry on their
persons.
тАЬNo need to rush!тАЭ called someone from the market, following the comment with a
good-humored laugh. тАЬThe cen-terтАЩll keep you waiting long enough.тАЭ
The sense of this seemed to get through to some of the new arrivals. While the
majority continued pushing their way toward the center, a few peeled off from the
flow. Most of these headed for the food stalls, doubtless tired of shipтАЩs rations.
Some drifted about asking after the location of friends and family. I noticed that the