"Andrew J. Offutt - Spaceways 09 - In Quest of Qalara" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

plain old fashioned carbon ropes? One end of each yellow tube swung loosely
down. A station securityman made a lewd remark about the appearance of that.
So did a spacefarer off another ship, and a stevedore. She was one of the two
who paced importantly along, orange-coveralled and yellow-hardhatted, beside
the four green-clad handlers of those nuttily wrapped big crates. Neither
stevedore was doing a thing aside from walking, although the station was busy
with incoming traffic and cargo to be moved. Too, there was outbound cargo,
and some of it was waiting while cargo-handlers played escort to seven big
long boxes. A whole load of Bose, a Franjese wine popular on a number of other
worlds, languished awaiting the attention 13 14 of this very pair of
stevedores. Both were members of Cargo Carriers Crosscontinental, which of
course was part of LPAF-Laboring Persons of All Franji. CCC/LPAF rules
demanded that at least two stevedores unload cargo of over six pieces with a
weight of over 500 kilos, and the combined weight of the seven boxes was
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577.886. If these green-clad baggy-pantsed fobbers off spaceship Hot Squid
insisted on carrying their own precious crates of Hojatocorp Duasonik insect
repellors, that was not the fault of LPAF or CCC or two smug Franjese
cargo-handlers. If they couldn't handle the cargo, then by damn they could
slicin' well accompany it! "Every single person deserves whatever break they
can get," stevedore Sashah said with smug austerity and dropout grammar, and
her companion nodded with smug austerity. And so they importantly accompanied
the incoming cargo off spacer Hot Squid out of Terasaki, and drew their pay.
Security watched without particular interest. Other space-farers off other
ships took note without paying much attention. They had more important things
to do. They were on their way to the station's bar, mostly. One man openly
stared. He was the master of merchant spacer Nakaret, and he was less than
patiently awaiting the loading of the last of his cargo. One hundred twenty
cases of Bose. "No wonder most of this planet is in the grip of an
impossibility," he muttered; "an ugly recession and highflying inflation all
at once! No wonder its swinish president, that jowly demagogue Mujazia, is
trying to blame all Franji's problems on its people, and TMSMCo-and for
pissake, on Murph!" Beside the captain his First Mate granted. Planet Murph
was Franji's nearest "neighbor," and pretty much ruled by T.M.S. Mining
Co. "This dam' planet's run by demagogues-union bosses 15 and their puppet
politicians-and naturally they put Mujazia in office, once he dam' near ruined
Velynda by caving in to every union demand! Now he seems to be workin' to save
his fat ass by preachin' hate-war, for pissake!-on Murph!" "Uh," his First
Mate grunted agreeably. Velynda was planetary capital of Franji, third planet
of hot, red-orange Chandrasekhar, and the Mate of Nakaret well remembered
Velynda under Mujazia. A mess. Now the planet was. And Nakaret was long since
ready to redshift. If Mujazia wanted to blame his failures and problems on
TMSMCo and Murph, Nakaret might as well blame its current problem on
Mujazia! "Oh well," the captain muttered on, glowering after the little parade
of four green-clad Hot Squid crewmembers and two orange-clad stevedores. Cargo
Un-handlers, he thought. "Could be worse. If somebody doesn't Do Something
about that maniac on Shankar, General Filatravia, they're going to have a