"H. Beam Piper - Naudsonce" - читать интересную книгу автора (Piper H Beam)

They rendered it, respectively, as "Pwink." "Tweelt" and "Kroosh."

Gofredo gave a barking laugh. He was right; anything that could go wrong would go wrong. Lillian used a
word; it was not a ladylike word at all. The Svants looked at them as though wondering what could
possibly be the matter. Then they went into a huddle, arguing vehemently. The argument spread, like a
ripple in a pool; soon everybody was twittering vocally or blowing on flutes and Panpipes.

Then the big horn started blaring. Immediately, Gofredo snatched the handphone of his belt radio and
began speaking urgently into it.

"What are you doing, Luis?" Meillard asked anxiously.

"Calling the reserve in. I'm not taking chances on this." He spoke again into the phone, then called over
his shoulder: "Rienet; three one-second bursts, in the air!"

A Marine pointed a submachine gun skyward and ripped off a string of shots, then another, and another.
There was silence after the first burst. Then a frightful howling arose.

"Luis, you imbecile!" Meillard was shouting.

Gofredo jumped onto the top of an airjeep, where they could all see him; drawing his pistol, he fired
twice into the air.

"Be quiet, all of you!" he shouted, as though that would do any good.

It did. Silence fell, bounced noisily, and then settled over the crowd. Gofredo went on talking to them:
"Take it easy, now; easy." He might have been speaking to a frightened dog or a fractious horse.
"Nobody's going to hurt you. This is nothing but the great noise-magic of the TerransтАж"

"Get the presents unloaded," Meillard was saying. "Making a big show of it. The table first."

The horn, which had started, stopped blowing. As they were getting off the long table and piling it with
trade goods, another lorry came in, disgorging twenty Marine riflemen. They had their bayonets fixed; the
natives looked apprehensively at the bare steel, but went on listening to Gofredo. Meillard pulled the
(Lord Mayor? Archbishop? Lord of the Manor?) aside, and began making sign-talk to him.
When quiet was restored, Howell put a pick and shovel into a wheelbarrow and pushed them out into the
space that had been cleared in front of the table. He swung the pick for a while, then shoveled the
barrow full of ground. After pushing it around for a while, he dumped it back in the hole and leveled it off.
Two Marines brought out an eight-inch log and chopped a couple of billets off it with an ax, than cut off
another with one of the saws, split them up, and filled the wheelbarrow with the firewood.

The knives, jewelry and other small items would be no problem; they had enough of them to go around.
The other stuff would be harder to distribute, and Paul Meillard and Karl Dorver were arguing about
how to handle it. If they weren't careful, a lot of new bowie knives would get bloodied.

"Have them form a queue," Anna suggested. "That will give them the idea of equal sharing, and we'll be
able to learn something about their status levels and social hierarchy and agonistic relations."

The one with the staff took it as a matter of course that he would go first; his associates began falling in
behind him, .and the rest of the villagers behind them. Whether they'd gotten one the day before or not,