"Steve Perry - Matador 5 - The 97th Step" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Steven)

There had to be.

It had been on his mind for months now, hazy and ill-defined. His studies on the
holoproj net had shown him that life was different elsewhere. He was a good
student, he enjoyed the learning time, time he did not have to face his father and
the ever-present farm work. There were other ways to live, and his resolve to find
them crystalized as he lay on the narrow cot, face down to avoid pressure on his
sore back.

That it was impossible meant little to him. He was too young to ship with the
Confed military yet, though they would draft him in a few years; nobody would
hire a boy his age for any kind of legitimate work offworld; and he had all of
nineteen stads to his name. That was less than half as much needed just to buy an
application for a ticket to anywhere offplanet. Yet, there had to be a way. He had

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 Perry, Steve - The 97th Step


to find it. Otherwise, his future was grim. Another four years of beatings, then he
would be a "man." Until then, he'd still be in thrall to his father, and he'd continue
to work the dusty shamba fields, trying to keep the stubby wembe plants alive
through the quakes, dry spells and the cold. Then, he could look forward to his
impress into the military.

Four years. Until then, his only other choice was to run off. Onplanet, he might lie
about his age, and maybe get a job as a contract laborer on somebody else's farm.
Or as a 'flunky to some merchant in Choo MjiтАФthe worn, plastic-prefab Toilet
Town. "Until Mafuta came to fetch him back, which would happen in short order.
And every minute of every day, God would ride on his shoulder, unseen but
weighing upon him like an overcoat of lead. How much interest God took in
Cibule might 'be open to argument on another world, but not here; the inhabitants
were certain of their place in God's hierarchyтАФat the top.

Mwili managed to drag himself up from the canvas cot. He took the two steps
necessary to cross the width of his room to where his ferret prowled the inside of
his own cage. The boy slid the mesh door up and put his hand inside. Nyota
scurried up the boy's wrist and arm, to perch on his shoulder. He chittered
excitedly, knowing the night's hunt was about to begin.

Mwili managed a small smile. He scratched the spot at the base of the creature's
shoulders near the recall caster. The smell of the animal's musk was high. The boy
caught the thin creature gently in his hand and brought him around so that he
could stare into Nyota's face.

"I think I understand how you must feel," Mwili said.

With his other hand, the boy pinched the pressure release on the recall caster. The
button-sized unit popped away from the ferret's back. Were he to release the little
hunter now, there would be no way to make him return after his night of mousing.