"Resnick, Mike - Oracle 3 - Prophet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

"It's possible," said the man in black, taking a boot from the corpse's foot and examining it.
"Looks sort of blue when the light hits it," commented the Iceman.
"I know," said the man in black. He handed the boot to the Iceman. "There aren't a lot of blue reptiles on the Inner Frontier -- and I only know of one that's got this circular pattern of scales."
"Oh?"
The man in black nodded. "Big sonuvabitch. It lives on a world called Greycloud, out by the Quinellus Cluster." He paused. "They call it a Bluefire Dragon. It could swallow you whole and then look around for the main course."
"How big a world is Greycloud?"
"About the size of Last Chance, maybe a little smaller."
"Oxygen world?"
"Yes."
"Any sentient life-forms?" asked the Iceman.
"Not since we pacified it a few centuries ago," answered the man in black.
"How many Men?"
"Maybe seven thousand, mostly miners and aquaculturalists. It's mostly freshwater ocean, with a batch of islands and one very small continent."
"Does it do much exporting?"
The man in black shook his head. "Too small. Probably doesn't get a mail or cargo ship more than seven or eight times a year."
"So," continued the Iceman, "if our killer was wearing boots made from the local lizard. . ."
"There's a pretty good chance that he bought them there," concluded the man in black.
"They look relatively new," said the Iceman, studying the boots. "I think maybe you'd better pay a little visit to Greycloud. Take a couple of holos of our friend here before we bury him, and see if anyone knows who he was or who he worked for."
"I assume you'll be all right while I'm gone?"
"I'll make do," replied the Iceman dryly. "By the way, if Greycloud is so far off the beaten track, how come you know about this Bluefire Dragon?"
"I've been there."
"When?"
The man in black shrugged. "Oh, about eight or ten years ago."
"On business?"
"In a manner of speaking," said the man in black noncommittally.
"Good," said the Iceman. "You'll have some contacts there, some people you can talk to."
The man in black shook his head. "Everyone I knew there is dead."
"Recently?"
"About eight or ten years ago."
The Iceman smiled in grim amusement. "No wonder they call you the Gravedancer."


2

His real name was Felix Lomax, and he used it for the first twenty-six years of his life. But names have a way of changing on the Inner Frontier, metamorphosing to fit the natures of the men and women they're attached to.
Originally he'd been a Pioneer, one of that group of highly trained specialists that opened new worlds for the Democracy, terraforming them when necessary, cataloging the various lifeforms, designing settlements, analyzing soils and minerals and water samples to determine exactly what type of colonists would be the most productive: miners, farmers, aquaculturalists, whatever. His specialty was pacification, a euphemism for decimating native populations until such time as they were willing to allow colonization -- or, in some instances, until there were none left to object.
During that period of his life he had been known as Double X, an easily identifiable code name based on the spelling of his given name. (It was best not to use one's true name, just in case there were some survivors of the pacification process that resented the instrument of the policy rather than the formulators who were in their mile-high offices back on Deluros VIII, the capital world of Man, snug and secure in the heart of the Democracy.)
After four years of pacifying alien populations, something happened on the planet of Innisfree. He never spoke of it, never referred to it in any official document, but right in the middle of the campaign he quit and went off to the Inner Frontier. He bought a large ranch on Backgammon II and spent the next two years raising mutated cattle, huge, 3,000-pound specimens that he sold to the Navy. During this time he was Felix Longface, for he never smiled, never joked, never seemed to take much of an interest in anything.
Then he finally put whatever demons were bothering him to rest and went farther into the Inner Frontier, returning to the trade he knew best: killing. For a while he was known as the Man in Black, for it was the only color he ever wore, but there were four other Men in Black on the Frontier, and before long he picked up the sobriquet of Gravedancer, and that was the name that stuck. Not that he ever danced or visited cemeteries, but when he landed on a planet, it was only a matter of time before someone would be visiting a graveyard, never to return.
His personality didn't change much. He still didn't smile, and he seemed to take no pride in his craft -- which was strange for a man in his occupation -- but before long his reputation preceded him, and he didn't lack for customers. He picked and chose those that interested him, which was how he came to work for the Iceman, who was as close to a living legend as a man could become on the Inner Frontier, where most legends died just about the time that they were recognized as legends.
He didn't know much about the Iceman -- no one did-but he knew that he had, in his day, faced both the Soothsayer and the Oracle and had lived to tell about it, which was more than anyone else could claim. He would have thought that the Iceman would be the very last person on the Frontier to require protection, so when the offer came, his interest was sufficiently aroused to accept the commission. He hadn't realized at the time that it would require him to pay a return visit to Greycloud, but it wouldn't have made any difference to him if he had known it.
As his ship braked to sublight speeds and the water world came up on his viewscreen, he checked out his arsenal, selected those weapons that he thought would be most effective in this environment, and requested permission to land on the single continent's tiny spaceport.
"Please identify yourself," said a metallic voice, crackling with static.
"This is the Peacekeeper, Felix Lomax commanding, five days out of Last Chance.''
"Permission denied."
"Why?"
"You are the Felix Lomax who is also known as the Gravedancer, are you not?"
"I've been called that, yes."
"There are nine outstanding arrest warrants in your name, each for the crime of murder."
"All the more reason why you should want to get your hands on me," replied Lomax.