"Andre Norton - Solar Queen 02 - Plague Ship" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

But, perversely, Dane held to a gloomier view of the immediate future. тАЬIf,тАЭ he repeated. тАЬThereтАЩs a galaxy
of тАШifsтАЩ in this Sargol proposition. All very well for you to rest easy on your finsтАФyou donтАЩt have to run
about smelling like a spice works before you can get the time of day from one of the natives!тАЭ
Rip put down the jar of cream. тАЬDifferent worlds, different customs,тАЭ he iterated the old tag of the Service.
тАЬBe glad this one is so easy to conform to. There are some I can think ofтАФThere,тАЭ he ended his message
with a stinging slap, тАЬYouтАЩre all evenly greased. Good thing you donтАЩt have VanтАЩs bulk to cover. It takes
him a good hour to get his cream onтАФeven with Frank helping to spread. Your clothes ought to be steamed
up and ready, too, by nowтАФтАЭ

He opened a tight wall cabinet, originally intended to sterilize clothing which might be contaminated by
contact with organisms inimical to Terrans. A cloud of steam fragrant with the same spicy scent poured
out.

Dane gingerly tugged loose his Trade uniform, its brown silky fabric damp on his skin as he dressed.
Luckily Sargol was warm. When he stepped out on its ruby tinted soil this morning no lingering taint off
his off-world origin must remain to disgust the sensitive nostrils of the Salariki. He supposed he would get
used to this process. After all this was the first time he had undergone the ritual. But he couldnтАЩt lose the
secret conviction that it was all very silly. Only what Rip had pointed out was the truthтАФone adjusted to
the customs of aliens or one didnтАЩt trade and there were other things he might have had to do on other
worlds which would have been far more upsetting to that core of private fastidiousness which few would
have suspected existed in his tall, lanky frame.

тАЬWhewтАФout in the open with youтАФ!тАЭ Ali Kamil, apprentice Engineer, screwed his too regular features
into an expression of extreme distaste and waved Dane by him in the corridor.

For the sake of his shipmatesтАЩ olfactory nerves, Dane hurried on to the port which gave on the ramp now
tying the Queen to SargolтАЩs crust. But there he lingered, waiting for Van Rycke, the Cargo-master of the
spacer and his immediate superior. It was early morning and now that he was out of the confinement of the
ship the fresh morning winds cut about him, rippling through the blue-green grass forest beyond, to take
much of his momentary irritation with them. There were no mountains in this section of SargolтАФthe
highest elevations being rounded hills tightly clothed with the same ten-foot grass which covered the
plains. From the QueenтАЩs observation ports, one could watch the constant ripple of the grass so that the
planet appeared to be largely clothed in a shimmering, flowing carpet. To the west were the seasтАФstretches
of shallow water so cut up by strings of islands that they more resembled a series of salty lakes. And it was
what was to be found in those seas which had lured the Solar Queen to Sargol.

Though, by rights, the discovery was that of another TraderтАФTraxt CamтАФwho had bid for trading rights
to Sargol, hoping to make a comfortable fortuneтАФor at least expenses with a slight profitтАФin the perfume
trade, exporting from the scented planet some of its most fragrant products. But once on Sargol he had
discovered the Koros stonesтАФgems of a new typeтАФa handful of which offered across the board in one of
the inner planet trading marts had nearly caused a riot among bidding gem merchants. And Cam had been
well on the way to becoming one of the princes of Trade when he had been drawn into the vicious net of
the Limbian pirates and finished off.

Because they, too, had stumbled into the trap which was Limbo, and had had a very definite part in
breaking up that devilish installation, the crew of the Solar Queen had claimed as their reward the trading
rights of Traxt Cam in default of legal heirs. And so here they were on Sargol with the notes left by Cam as
their guide, and as much lore concerning the Salariki as was known crammed into their minds.

Dane sat down on the end of the ramp, his feet on Sargolian soil, thin, red soil with glittering bits of gold