"Chad Oliver - Blood's a Rover" - читать интересную книгу автора (Oliver Chad)

part of it. But the babyтАФthatтАЩs terrible, Conan. After all, we caused that death in a wayтАФтАЭ
 тАЬAfraid not,тАЭ Conan Lang corrected him. тАЬThese people practice infanticide; itтАЩs part of their religion.
If the preliminary reports were correctтАФand theyтАЩve checked out so farтАФthey kill all the female children
born on the last three days of alternate months. ThereтАЩs an economic reason, tooтАФnot enough food to
go around, and thatтАЩs a pretty effective method of birth control. The baby would have been killed
regardlessтАФwe had nothing to do with it.тАЭ
тАЬStillтАФтАЭ
тАЬI know. But maybe she was the lucky one after all.тАЭ
тАЬI donтАЩt quite follow you there.тАЭ
тАЬSkip itтАФyouтАЩll find out soon enough.тАЭ
тАЬWhat are you going to leave them tonight?тАЭ
тАЬNot sure yet,тАЭ Conan Lang said. тАЬWeтАЩll have to integrate with their value system, of course. We
brought some mats, and I guess a good steel knife wonтАЩt hurt things any. WeтАЩll worry about that later.
Come on, farmerтАФback to work.тАЭ
Andy Irvin picked up his hoe and followed Conan Lang into the field. The clear water bubbled softly
as it flowed through the trenches. The growing plants sent their roots thirstily into the ground and the fresh
green shoots stretched up like tentacles into the humid air of Sirius Ten.


That night, under the great yellow moon that swam far away and lonesome among the stars, they
placed exchange gifts of their own on the platform. Next morning, the invisible traders had replaced them
with four mats and another dead pig.
тАЬNo babies, anyhow,тАЭ Andy Irvin said, puffing industriously on one of ConanтАЩs pipes. They had
decided that cigarettes, as an unfamiliar cultural trait to the natives, were out. Now, with Andy taking with
unholy enthusiasm to pipe smoking, Conan Lang was threatened with a shortage of tobacco. He watched
the smoke from the kidтАЩs pipe with something less than ecstasy.
тАЬWe can have smoked ham,тАЭ he observed.
тАЬIt was your idea,тАЭ Andy grinned.
тАЬCall me тАШsir.тАЩ тАЭ
Andy laughed, relaxed now, and picked up the pig. Conan gathered up the somewhat cumbersome
mats and followed him back into the hut. The hot, close sun was already burning his shoulders. The plants
were green and healthy looking, and the air was a trifle fresher in the growing field.
тАЬNow what?тАЭ Andy asked, standing outside the hut and letting the faint breeze cool him off as best it
could.
тАЬI figure weтАЩre about ready for an overt contact,тАЭ Conan Lang said. тАЬEverything has checked out
beautifully so far, and the natives donтАЩt seem to be suspicious or hostile. We might as well get the ball
rolling.тАЭ
тАЬThe green branch, isnтАЩt it?тАЭ
тАЬThatтАЩs right.тАЭ
They still did not get a glimpse of the natives throughout the steaming day, and that night they placed a
single mat on the platform. On top of the mat they put a slim branch of green leaves, twisted around back
on itself and tied loosely to form a circle. The green branch was by no means a universal symbol of
peace, but, in this particular form, it chanced to be so on Sirius Ten. Conan Lang smiled a little. Man had
found many curious things among the stars, and most of them were of just this unsensational but very
useful sort.
By dawn, the mat and the circle branch were gone and the natives had left them nothing in return.
тАЬTodayтАЩs the day,тАЭ Conan Lang said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. тАЬTheyтАЩll either give us the
works or accept our offer. Nothing to do now but wait.тАЭ
They picked up their hoes and went back into the field. Waiting can be the most difficult of all things,
and the long, hot morning passed without incident. The two men ate their lunch in silence, thankful for the