"Michael McCollum - Man of Renaissance" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCollum Michael)

"The Sonorans killed Manuel Vargas. They say he was a spy. They found him with a machine. Some
say that it was a radio."

"Radio? Where would old Manuel get a radio? And for whom would he spy? And what would he spy
on out here in the middle of all this desolation?"

"I do not know. All I do know is that the fat Generalissimo was most unhappy. It is said in the village
that he had two of his own men shot when he learned that they had killed Vargas."

"Nice people," Beckwith muttered. "Why'd they come to the Gila Valley, Espe? This is poor land,
barely able to support the people who live on it. Surely old Moctezuma can't want to add this place to
his Empire."

"I do not know, Doctor Darol. They have four horse troops and los inginieros with them."
"Engineers? Any power machinery?"

Espe nodded. Two large steam wagons with drilling attachments. Also, things like a prospector's metal
detector."

"Metal detectors, huh? Did you see any radiation counters?"

Espe nodded. "Yes, a few. In the twenty days since they arrived, they have set off many explosions
near the old charcoal ovens east of town. What does it mean?"

Beckwith shrugged. "That they're on a treasure hunt, I suppose. I wonder what they are looking for.
Maybe I'll ask the General at dinner tonight."

#

"The ancients were a pack of god damned fools!"

General Trujillo wiped at his plate with a crust of coarse bread, soaking up the last of the pinto beans
while daring his double handful of assembled subordinates and unwilling guests to disagree with his
comment. He was not disappointed when a priest across from Beckwith crossed himself and muttered a
silent prayer.

"Ah, our padre thinks otherwise," the General growled, his speech slurred by too much wine.

"Our Lord looks not well on those who blaspheme the dead, Miguel Trujillo."

The general turned to Beckwith. "What say you, Medico? Our ancestors blew up the world in a fit of
pique. Should we regard them as near demigods on that account?"

Beckwith wiped his mouth on his sleeve and belched politely before answering. Esperanza Galway
peered at him with alert eyes from the chair next to the priest's. Her mother, La Donna Alicia Galway,
maintained a stony silence from the foot of the table.

"The ancients were neither fools nor demigods, General. They were men like us, with all the weaknesses
and strengths to which mere mortal flesh is heir. If they had a fatal flaw, it was that they weren't wise