"Mike Moscoe - Society of Humanity 03 - They Also Serve" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moscoe Mike)

man's arm, in that way women have of defusing a situation men are likely to fight over.
"For a pound of copper, the good man could buy the village. Big Sean, don't shame us."
"I think we can work this out." Coins had disappeared on many planets, but on the rim,
financial networks were a sometimes thing; Ray always carried a few coins. From his
pocket he produced three silver-copper alloy disks. "We'll need to set up a base here. I
imagine this entire field will be out of production this season. Will these cover the cost of
the crop?"

Big Sean gave Ray a grin that showed several missing teeth and snapped the coins out
of his hand. "This will be just fine, just fine." Waving his booty aloft, the tough headed into
the crowd. People got out of his way, not at all eager to see what he was so proud of.

A man on horseback galloped up to the back of the crowd. Had the lord of the manor
arrived? No, he dismounted and disappeared. The man and woman in front of Ray
ignored the arrival. The woman nudged her partner; the man cleared his throat. "These
lands, they be belonging to all of us, not just one man. You've paid Sean for the loss of his
crop. You owe the village for the rent of the land."
Ray found three more coins and handed them over.

"And if you got two more where those came from, you could buy beer for all." That
came from a friendly bear of a man, pushing a wheelbarrow laden with a large keg
through the crowd, followed by an equally friendly woman pushing a load of mugs.

Mary pulled two coppers from her pocket. "The marines'll pay for this round, folks."

"Then the bar is open," the kegtender shouted; the crowd cheered and gathered
around. The first mug, sporting a proud head of foam, was passed to Ray. He handed it
over to the village headman, who backed up to create an opening, blew the head off
gustily, and took a long swallow. 'Top of the brew, Gillie, top of the brew. They don't make
it better."
The brewmaster beamed proudly and handed a mug to Ray. Humanity's ambassador
to the lost people of the Santa Maria blew the head off as he'd been shown, then tried to
look like he was downing a good portion of the brew while limiting himself to a mouthful.
"Best I've tasted in a dozen star systems," Ray announced; he wasn't lying.
The delicacies properly observed, the people got down to organizing themselves with
an easy, gentle efficiency for serious celebration. Men went for more beer or tables to set
dinner on. The women headed back to get whatever was cooking; dinner would be a
communal potluck. Turning to Mary, Ray began his own organizational effort. "Captain,
stack rifles in the shuttle's arms locker. Relieve the middies to circulate. Post a guard at
the nose, tail, and wingtips, and two at the stairs. Rest are free. Limit, two beers. Nobody
gets drunk." Ray put steel into the order. With Second Chance off-limits to anyone who'd
been dirtside, his disciplinary options were few.
 Jeff Sterling's heart pounded; if he played his cards right, this could change his whole
life. He'd ridden like mad when it became clear that this, the biggest thing to hit Santa
Maria since Landing Day. was coming down right in his lap. Vicky and Mark would puke
with envy.

Assuming, of course, he could find the copper in this business and make the killing he
wanted.
He figured the man with the canes and the woman beside him as the bosses even