"Jerry Pournelle - High Justice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pournelle Jerry)

was back now, Martinez thought his friend looked quite himself. "We'll even offer to pay a
reasonable fee for 'caring' for Persephone."
The prince's laughter rumbled through the room. "All right, Mr. Adams. We'll help you get your
ship back. I've heard of Overseas Foods and I don't want them for neighbors . . . but none of us
could sail her, I think. I'm sure there are no Tongans who can operate a nuclear reactor aboard
ship. Or probably anywhere else."
"I will take care of the reactor," Art Martinez said. "I may be an ecologist but I am Director of
San Juan Capistrano Station. I know how."
Adams nodded. "And I can sail the ship if you get us to her, Your Highness. I also have a couple
of sailing officers from Company headquarters in Cerebrus' staterooms. If you hadn't been willing
to help, we'd have had a crack at it alone, but by God, welcome aboard!"

Cerebrus landed in the lee of an uninhabited atoll seventy miles from Fiji. Her clamshell cargo
doors opened to discharge men and a slender war canoe.
"Now we'll see how it floats," Prince Toki said. "I wonder that you made your own."
Adams shrugged, then quickly grasped the handrail by the cargo door as the plane lurched to a
heavy sea.
"Fiberglass is a bit tougher than your woods," he said, "But this outrigger is an exact duplicate
of the one in our harbor. And remember we won't be bringing it back with us. This one can't be
traced."
Toki laughed softly into the gathering dark. "You hope it won't be coming back." They climbed
gingerly down from the enormous plane to the pitching boat. It was only three feet wide, but
nearly fifty feet long. All metal tools and weapons were laid in the bottom of the boat so they
would be below the waterline and out of radar reflection.
"As soon as you're ready," the pilot called softly. "That blow's coming up fast and it's getting
darker. I'd like to get the old dog upstairs."
Adams waved. The props spun, and Cerebrus drifted away, turned, and gunned into the wind. Spray
flew from her bows and pontoons, then she was aloft, winging just above the tops of the waves.
They'd come in at the same altitude.
The boat wallowed heavily in the rising seas. Prince Toki stood in the stern and spoke quietly to
the sea people. Except for a half dozen technicians and company police, Adams, King, and Martinez
were the only westerners. Adams hadn't objected to the prince coming himself; he understood why.
It would not have been in a warrior aristocrat's character to send men on something like this and
not go himself, even if the Tongan royal families hadn't led men in battle for a hundred years.
...
The prince's teeth flashed white as Toki spoke carefully in musical tones, his voice carrying
easily over rising wind and crashing waves. When he sat again, they cheered.
"What did you tell them?" Adams asked, but the prince had gone forward to see to the sails. The
outrigger gathered way under sail, flashing across steadily rising seas. When they left the lee of
the island, breakers crashed around them, but no water came aboard. Adams estimated their speed at
twenty knots.


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Toki came back finally after inspecting sails and rigging. "I told them of their ancestors and
mine," he said. "I was named for one, Toki Ukamea means 'iron axe.' We once sailed these waters in
revenge against raiders. I could have told them in English but - it sounded better in Tongan!"
There was amusement in the clipped accents. "If my professors at Magdalene College should see me