"Roberts, John Maddox - Cingulum 03 - The Sword, The Jewel and the Mirror" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts John Maddox)

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in an uncharacteristic search for the proper word, "these civilians onto the ship."
"They know the risks," Haakon said. "At least, Alex and Numa were told. As for Rama . . ." he said, trailing off into expressive silence. 'Td better go see her. I've put it off long enough." He downed the last of his drink and took a last look at the spectacular view out the bubble. It was the kind of sight that a real spacer never tired of, no matter how long he'd been in space. "If I'm not on the bridge within a half hour, send a rescue party."
Rama's suite was the most splendid on the ship. It had been designed as the Prince-Admiral's quarters, back when Eurynome had been a royal yacht-cum-light cruiser. Haakon knocked at the exotic-wood door.
"Go away! I hate you!" Rama squalled from inside.
"How did you know it was me?" Haakon asked.
"There is nobody out there I don't hate," Rama said. "Well, come in if you must."
Cautiously, Haakon entered. Rama was a Felid, and Felids were among humanity's deadlier variations. She was vicious at the best of times and lately she had been impossible. Besides that, when she was in a bad mood her smell could raise bubbles on durasteel. Haakon checked his nose filters as he came in.
Rama lay in her immense bed, her silver-and-black-striped hair in disarray, her claws unpainted. She was wearing only the lower half of a filmy pajama suit, which was probably all she had that would fit these days.
"You see?" she hissed. "Does it give you satisfaction to behold the ruin of my beauty?" She gestured at her immensely swollen belly, her distended breasts with their
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elongated, black nipples. Even the double row of vestigial nipples that dotted her ribs had become enlarged slightly. Her whole white-skinned body was enveloped in a net of blue veins. She glared at him with her slit-pupiled eyes. "Go head, you horrible person, gloat!"
"You don't look half bad, Rama," Haakon said. "Once the baby's born, you'll be right back up to snuff in a few days." He wasn't sure what snuff was, but it seemed to be a good thing to be up to. In fact, even in this condition, Rama was still beautiful enough to take his breath away. Why did the cat-woman have to be such a pain?
"Do you really think so?" Rama asked, a little mollified. "I would hate to think of my magnificence being dimmed permanently. What did you come to tell me?"
"We leave orbit in about twenty minutes. Mirabelle has all the data. Our next scheduled stop is Krishna in about a month, so we can take a side trip to Balder. It's about time we had a little fun." Balder was the spacer's paradise, an unexampled den of iniquity.
"Have fun if you must," said Rama tragically. "I am denied such things now. The demands of the species override that kind of self-indulgence." She wiped away a tear, which Haakon knew was fake since Felids could not weep.
"Look, Rama," he said confidentially, "there are a lot of bets on the ship whether it's going to be a boy or a girl. If you'd just tell me, we could splitЧ"
"Get out of here, bald one!" she shouted, flinging a pillow. "My offspring shall never be the mere object of
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your greed! Go! And seventy-five/twenty-five my favor is the best deal you'll ever get from me!"
"To hell with that," Haakon said. "Strap your distended bulk Jn. We're on our way."
He whirled and stalked out. She radiated a wave of scent that he couldn't smell through his filters, but it was strong enough to feel through his skin.
The door shut behind him as he turned right and sprinted up the companionway. The main salon was battened down already. Ordinarily, Eurynome made her jumps so smoothly that all these precautions were unnecessary, but spacers were creatures of habit, especially those who had learned their trade in the navies of the recent wars.
When he got to the bridge, he found Jemal already there. Jemal was his second in command and copilot. Rama was hisЧactually, he wasn't sure just what Rama was. He plopped into his captain's chair. "Let's set course for Balder."
Wordlessly, Jemal pointed to a globe of light that hung above the console. Haakon let loose a stream of sotto voce profanity. "Damn!" he finished off. "If it's Timur Khan, I'llЧ"
"Don't say it. Who else would it be?" Jemal hit the interpreter. The ball expanded into a holographic representation of Timur Khan Bey himself. The image spoke. "You are summoned." Then it winked out.
"A man of few words," Jemal commented.
"Too damn many for me," Haakon said. For months he had been able to hang on to the illusion that he was the captain-adventurer of a free ship. Now he was once again
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faced with the hard fact that he was a slave; a convict under suspended death sentence, no different from what he had been in the pits. He began to dictate coordinates for Bahadur.
The Lower City of Baikal was the same as always. It was a warren of low establishments catering to the wants and needs of spacers of the "inferior peoples," but not nearly as much fun as Balder. The crew took a shuttle down from parking orbit to the port. Rama stayed with the ship, being in no mood for parties. So did Rand, the engineer. It would be some years before the pleasures of the flesh appealed to him once more.
They couldn't just go to the Black Obelisk without arousing suspicion among people whose good opinion they valued, so an excursion among the fleshpots of Lower Baikal was called for. The array of low dives available was staggering, but they decided to begin with Star Hell. They were well-known there and it was as good a place as any to let the word get around that Eurynome was back.
The Pirian bouncer at the door gave them the onceover with its eyeless face, but it was soon replaced by the owner, a small man in a sweep-sleeved evening tunic. "Haakon! Dear boy, where have you been? And you, too, Jemal, your fans have missed you! Soong, Mira-belle, your tables await. I'm so sorry about that little contretemps last time. It was nothing personal, just that BT swine showing up as he did, I'm sure you understand. And where is dear Rama? We'll be disappointed if she doesn't dance and fight. Where isЧ" The next word
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caught in his throat as he saw the man following Mirabeile into the foyer.
"Orozco," Alexander said, "meet Numa. Rama's a little indisposed just now. Numa's kind of her mate, you know?"
Numa put a massive, clawed hand on Orozco's embroidered shoulder. "Pleased to meet you. I've been hearing about the place."
"Ah, charmed, I'm sure, dear boy," Orozco said. He took in the sight before him with more than customary appreciation.
Numa was a Felid, and even bigger than Rama, and just as beautiful. His mane was golden and spread from his brow across his shoulders and well down his back. As with Rama, his features were perfectly human except for the slit-pupiled eyes, the bristly whiskers flanking the nose, and the generally catlike cast of countenance.
"And the, ah, nature of dear Rama's indisposition?" asked Orozco.
"She's great with kitten," Mirabeile explained. "Numa's the daddy."
"My congratulations," Orozco said to Numa, who merely grunted. "Ah, what might the little creature be?"
"We still don't know," Haakon said. "But Soong's keeping book."
They went down the multiple levels into the amphitheater-style interior of Star Hell. The descending tiers were packed with tablesЧthe top ones for eating, those lower for drinking or just watching the activities in the pit. Everywhere, chemical smokes and gasses laced the air,
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