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

"We have no one here capable of taking you into custody against your will, Gravedancer," said the voice. "I assume you have not come to give yourself up to the authorities."
"A fair assumption."
"Then permission to land is denied. If you attempt to land on Greycloud, we will fire on your ship and destroy it before it can touch down."
"One moment," said Lomax, breaking the connection.
He had his computer scan the spaceport and surrounding vicinity, searching for weaponry. It found none, nor had he expected so thinly populated a world to have any defensive capabilities.
"Nice try, Greycloud," he said, reactivating his radio. "Now please give me landing coordinates."
"Denied."
"I'm landing whether you like it or not. If you won't give me coordinates, you'd better clear the sky or risk a collision over the landing field. This is the Peacekeeper, over and out."
He broke out of orbit and entered an elliptical path toward the spaceport, touching down about twenty minutes later. Once on the ground, he had the ship's sensors scan the area for armed personnel, found none, activated a number of security devices, and finally emerged through the hatch, the boots and a holograph of the dead man secured in a leather holdall that he slung over his left shoulder.
He walked about half a mile, past two small hangars, to the main traffic control and reception building, and entered warily. There were four clerks going about their business, one man and three women; none of them looked up at him or gave any indication that they were aware of his presence until he cleared his throat and three of them fidgeted nervously. He walked up to the fourth, a gray-haired woman, and stood before her.
"Yes?" she said coldly.
"I need transportation into town," he said.
"Do I look like a chauffeur?" she demanded.
"If I can't find one, you'll do."
"Go away and leave me alone, Mr. Lomax," she said. "I want nothing to do with you."
"Do I know you?" he asked.
"No, but I know you," she said, her eyes reflecting her hatred.
"Then tell me where I can find a ride into town, and you won't have to keep looking at me."
"I wouldn't help you if you were bleeding to death on the street," she said.
He stared at her for a long moment.
"Have it your way," he said at last. "Before I leave, though," he added, "I should point out that if anyone touches my ship, the ensuing explosion will flatten the spaceport and everything else within a radius of two miles."
Then he turned on his heel and walked out the main entrance. The parking lot was almost empty -- the planet had a tiny population and relatively little commerce with the rest of the galaxy -- but as he stood, hands on hips, wondering what to do next, a small groundcar pulled up. He walked over to it before the driver could get out, and opened the passenger's door.
"What's going on here?" demanded the driver, a young man in his early twenties.
"I'm paying you fifty credits to take me into town," said Lomax.
"The hell you are!" snapped the young man. "I've got a shipment of computer parts to pick up."
"They can wait."
Lomax sat down next to the driver, pulled out a sonic pistol, and pointed it at him.
"That wasn't a request," he said calmly.
"Who are you?" demanded the driver. "What the hell is this all about?"
"I'm just a guy who needs a ride to town," said Lomax. "Now, drive."
"Why don't you take an aircab?" said the young man, turning the car around.
"I wasn't aware you had any."
"We do. I can drive you to their hangar."
"I wouldn't want to put you to the trouble," said Lomax. "Just get going."
The young man stared at him, and suddenly his expression changed.
"You're him, aren't you?" he said.
"I'm whom?"
"The Gravedancer."
"Some people call me that."
"Damn!" said the young man, grinning and slamming his hand against the dashboard. "The Gravedancer himself, in my groundcar!" He turned to Lomax. "What are you here for?"
"Business."
"Who are you going to kill?" asked the young man eagerly.
"No one."
"You can tell me," persisted the young man. "I'm on your side."
"I'm just here to talk to the local bootmaker."
The young man snorted contemptuously. "Come on, Gravedancer -- do you expect me to believe you flew all the way to Greycloud for a pair of boots?"
"What you believe makes no difference to me," said Lomax. "Just take me where I want to go." He paused. "You can start by driving into town."
The young man put the vehicle in motion, and a moment later they were traveling on a road that paralleled an ocean shoreline.
"I've been wondering if you'd ever come back."
"You're too young to remember me," said Lomax.