"Andrew J. Offutt - Spaceways 08 - Under Twin Suns" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

"You saw the color of her eyes from the Security booth?"
"It's up so the Securityman on guard can see, Inspec-tor, and I've got good eyes, firm."
"Were her eyes wandering, Jahl?"
"You-are yer making fun of me, Inspector?"
"Sorry, Jahl. Of course not. And she also had large-ish legs with large muscular calves."
Jahl stared. "You already know?"
"No, no." The inspector actually smiled, and ges-tured. "First you described someone who is celldyed, because
people don't come that black, and not with yellow hair at all, and parents wouldn't do that to a child. So she's had a
chromatic cyto-engineering job. Secondly you described an unlikely combination even for a celldye subject, and so I
would suppose she was an Aglayan. Is."
"An Aglayan." Jahl looked as if a fly could have walked around on one eyeball without the stevedore's noticing.
So this was what made a TGO inspector-good listening and good guessing! "Pos, she had thickish legs for her size,
and big calves."
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"An Aglayan," the inspector said nodding. "A non-tech planet, on the Protected list. The only pale race in the
galaxy-so far. And short, with good legs. Most of them are, uh, slaves."
"Oh. Oh-high-gravity planet, hmm? Anyhow she wore a stopper too. She had on a pair of black tights, boots, and a
tunic-white. A white tunic, pos. About the only color that wouldn't contrast with her skin! She come down the ramp
and sort of sidled to her left. Never glanced at the black one. Watched the station. They was each maybe three meters
from the mouth of the navel, on either side of it. Watching. Cool and flat-eyed. Just looking, keeping watch. With
stoppers on their hips. Or their thighs, rather."
The inspector knew that "navel" was space station slang for the access tunnels that extended from the station's
perimeter into the airlocks of the ships berthed outside. They were secured airtight and called umbili-cals. Stationers
turned that into "navel." Gods knew what turned "platypus" into "plastipuss." Just igno-rance, the inspector
assumed.
"Suspicious," the inspector said. "Wary characters. So you watched them."
"Shit, I was already-excuse me."
"I've heard that word." The smile was subdued, but encouraging.
"Uh, firm. I watched them. And here come the third weirdo. Now him I recognized!"
"A man this time! And someone you recognized on sight?"
"I mean I recognized what that shader was. Is. An Outie. From Outreach. They all dress wild, you know? Big
wide-brimmed hat. Bright yaller shirt, real blousy-sleeved. High-necked-a Saipese shirt. But he was an Outie. With a
big fancy flashy belt buckle and blue tights-I mean blue, royal blue-and yaller boots. And, uh, an air about him. Like
he owned the station. Cool,
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very cool. I remember thinking how swell of him, Captain of that ugly old ship, to have two women as security guards!
Really unusual and good-shaped women, so he could just walk out that way. Like a real shah or a clan-chief."
"All right. That does sound like an Outreacher-and he is. His name is Trafalgar Cuw."
Jahl said, head cocked, "Falger Q?"
"Firm. Did he wear a stopper, too?"
"Pos!" Jahl nodded very positively. Jahl obviously had a fine mental picture of Trafalgar Cuw, who the inspector
knew very well was not the captain of that ship, or any other. "Tall man. Good build, rangy. Nice looking too, just . . .
uh, like an actor, yer know?"
"Theatrical. And garishly attired."
"Right. And wearing those wild clothes like I said, too. He walked straight ahead, toward Spoke H-the ship's
berthed in H-2-and then I couldn't see him."
"Out of your vision, you mean?"
"Right. Firm."
"Walked to the mouth of the spoke," the inspector said, leaning back, eyes shuttered, "and turned to face the ship.
Back against the wall-section beside the spoke-tunnel's mouth. Eyes on the mouth of the-I mean, gazing at the mouth