"Norton, Andre - Solar Queen 01 - Sargasso of Space" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

"Yes--" Ricki subsided fast. But Dane was aware that his eyes continued to watch the new Free Trader
wistfully.

"Here's to Trade anyway you have it!" Artur raised his mug with a theatrical gesture. "Best of luck to the
Solar Queen. You'll probably need it, Viking."

Dane was stung anew. "I don't know about that, Sands. Free Traders have made big strikes. And the
gamble--"

"That's just it, old man, the gamble! And the chips can fall down as well as up. For one Free Trader who
has made a stroke, there're a hundred or so who can't pay their Field fees. Too bad you didn't have some
pull with the powers-that-be."

Dane had had enough. He pushed back from the table and looked at Artur straightly. "I'm going where the
Psycho assigned me," he said steadily. "All this talk about Free Trading being so tough may be just meteor
light. Give us both a year in space, Sands, and then you can talk--"

Artur laughed. "Sure--give me a year with Inter-Solar and you a year in that broken down bucket. I'll buy
the dinner next time, Viking, you won't have credits enough to settle the bill-- I'll wager an extra ten on
that. Now," he glanced at his watch, "I'm going to have a look at the Star Runner. Any of you care to join
me?"
It seemed that Ricki and Hanlaf would, at least they arose with dispatch to join him. But Dane remained
where he was, finishing the last of a very good dinner, certain that it would be a long time before he tasted
its like again. He had, he hoped, put up a good front and he was heartily tired of Sands.

But he was not left to his own company long. Someone slipped into Ricki's chair across the table and
spoke: "You for the Solar Queen, man?"

Dane's head snapped up. Was this to be more of Artur's pleasantries? But now he was looking at the open
face of the astrogator-apprentice from the neighbouring table. He lost part of his bristling antagonism.

"Just been assigned to her." He passed his ID across to the other.

"Dane Thorson," the other read aloud. "I am Rip Shannon --Ripley Shannon if you wish to be formal.
And," he beckoned to the Video hero, "this is Ali Kamil. We are both of the Queen. You are a cargo-
apprentice," he ended with a statement rather than a question.

Dane nodded and then greeted Kamil, hoping that the stiffness he felt was not apparent in his voice or
manner. He thought that the other looked him over too appraisingly, and that in some mysterious way he
had been found wanting after the instant of swift measurement.

"We are going to the Queen now, come with us?" Rip's simple friendliness was warming and Dane agreed.

As they boarded the scooter which trundled down the length of the Field towards the distant cradles of the
star ships, Rip kept up a flow of conversation and Dane warmed more and more to the big young man.
Shannon was older, he must be in his last year of apprenticeship, and the newcomer was grateful for the
scraps of information about the Queen and her present crew which were being passed along to him.

Compared to the big super ships of the Companies the Solar Queen was a negligible midget. She carried a