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

planetary war, for pissake! (No no-make that Fiiatravia's sake!) Half the
sisterslicin' planets along the spaceways are in the hands of idiots and TGO
ner nobodyelse's doin' a dam' thing about it. If it wasn't for us honest and
long-sufferin' merchanters, the whole universe'd fall apart!" "Firm," his Mate
agreed, idly rubbing her cheek. "On the other hand, you do have to wonder why
those baggy-pantsed rot-rectums off Hot Squid have to carry their own stupid
bug killers!" "Yeah," his Mate snarled, thinking that the four crew carrying
the crates, followed by two do-nothings, looked like a funeral procession on
Jorinne. The four greensuits off Hot Squid did carry their seven boxes around
the station rim to the shuttle terminal, one by one. Only when the last of the
big crates was on the cargo shuttle-pod and en route down to Franji did the
two cargo- 16 handlers amble over to the stack of wine cases. They were ricked
up before the umbilical tunnel that connected the outer perimeter of
Franjistation Two to docking berth G-l. Outside the station,
electromagnetically coupled to it with aklock sealed to umbilical, awaited
Nakaret with an empty hold, expensively temp-controlled to accommodate the
wine. Sashah and her buddy at last went back to work. Wait until Nakaret's
sour-faced captain found out they were due for mandatory break in eleven and a
half mins! Neither they nor anyone else had noticed that the bright yellow
tube around the fifth Terasak crate was really two; or that the other end of
the trailing length of tubing fed into the crate. That arrangement was the
sole reason the seven cases were so strangely wrapped. The reason for that was
the sole reason they were personally borne by crewmembers of Hot Squid rather
than by unimaginative but ever-nosy stevedores-or that there were seven of the
big boxes, rather than only one. The other six really did house Hojatocorp
insect repellors. One of the baggy-pantsed greensuits insisted on accompanying
the boxes-inside the shuttle-pod's cargo hold. That was against the rules. The
Terasak greensuit was insistent, and then raised so much hell that at last a
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wise clerk decided to look the other way. At least the dumb Terasak flainer
had a breather! It wasn't as if anyone bothered to provide atmosphere inside a
pod. The clerk hoped the crates floated up and crushed the sisterslicin' son
of a Terasak bug en route down to Franji. On the other hand, she didn't,
really. If the greensuit got himself killed in the pod by gravity-less,
airless cargo shifting, the clerk would be held responsible. She'd be in a lot
of trouble until the union bailed her out. 17 The moment the shuttle settled
onto Franji's surface and was clutched close by the planet's .73 gravity, the
greensuited spacefarer in the hold dragged off his breathing mask and popped
open the side-not the lid but the spring-hinged side-of the special crate off
Hot Squid. The fifth. That revealed the fact that most of the big box's
interior was occupied by a semi-soft silver bag. Squatting, the spacefarer
broke the hardened foam around the top of the silver bag's zipper pull. A hand
the color of old gold drew down the zipper. Heat gushed out. A moment later,
the very very latest state-of-the-art spacesuit rolled out. It was silver, and
it was occupied. The air-conditioned spacesuit had fed its occupant's heat-
body and breath-out to be trapped by the silver bag. The bag, 97 percent
thermo-retentive, had bled some of that heat out through the yellow tube.