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

John Maddox Roberts
and the noise was uproarious. On platforms in the pit -there were dancers and fighters going through their acts.
Jemal watched bemusedly as a fighter was carried out, bleeding profusely from a powerblade cut on the thigh. "I used to make my living that way," Jema) said to no one in particular.
"How come you're still alive?" Numa asked.
Jemal shrugged. "Some of us are destined for greater things, I suppose." Overhead a police 'bot floated by and Numa snarled and fanned his mane as it floated too close. Jemal put a restraining hand on his arm. "Easy, there. Those 'bots are never in working condition down here. The cops don't care what foreigners do to one another. The 'bots are just to remind us that we're still under police authority." As the thing floated past, they could see a long crack running across its main visual sensor plate.
A band began a pounding rendition of an ancient piece by Bach. The Old-Earth musical instrument revival was in full swing, and the band was equipped with electronic bagpipes, alpenhorn, and digeridoo. They took seats around one of the tables and looked over the crowd. It was a typical assemblage: mostly humans of varying sorts, with a sprinkling of aliens. There was no day or night in this place, because it catered largely to spacers, and the ships came in at all hours, discharging passengers and crew anxious for a little diversion. Rumor had it that Star Hell had not been closed in more than a century. A towering herm threaded a way through the gaming tables to the one occupied by the Eurynome crew. For reasons of their own, the majority of herms preferred to
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THE SWORD, THE JEWEL, AND THE MIRROR
be regarded as female, despite their possession of two sets of fully functional reproductive organsЧmale and female. The minority preferred to be male. Attempts had been made to devise and institute new genders and pronouns in the common languages, but these expedients had met with little enthusiasm, even among the herms.
"Good to see you, Hack," the herm said, looking pointedly at a vacant seat next to Haakon.
"Sit, Roche," Haakon said. "What's your pleasure?"
Roche talked to the waiterbot and received a glass of something layered in shades of purple and a small inhaler. Roche was one of the minority of "male" herms, massively muscled with small but prominent breasts. The curvature of hips was restrained and the male genitals made a noticeable bulge in the codpiece of his bailoon-thighed trousers. He sniffed from the inhaler and sipped off the top layer of his drink.
"How long's it been since you were here, Hack? A year?"
"A little more than that. Why? Did you miss me?" Haakon was curious. Roche was an acquaintance, not the type he would have expected to be the first to seek him out as soon as he made planetfall.
"There are people who've been missing you," Roche said.
Haakon was mystified, which translated as suspicious. "What are you trying to tell me, Roche?"
"We could go someplace private," Roche said. "What for? You know my taste doesn't run to herms." Roche glared. Haakon was being deliberately obtuse. "C'mon, Roche," Jemal said. "This is Star Hell." 13
John Maddox Roberts
Star Hell had three basic appeals: all tastes were catered to, patrons were as safe from the authorities as anyone could be on Bahadur, and there was absolutely no eavesdropping. Anyone bringing a snoop device onto the premises was immediately crucified to one of the walls.
Roche shot a glance at Numa. "He's crew, Roche," Haakon said. "Now give us your message."
"They want you at the Cingulum."
"We were there within the last year to drop people off," Haakon said. "They were no happier than usual to see us then. Why this sudden interest?"
Roche shrugged. He took another sniff and sip. "How should I know? I got word from my contact. You're wanted there."
"When did this word come down?" asked Mirabelle.
"Eighteen days ago, Bahadur. About sixteen-point-five standard."
"Thanks, Roche," Haakon said. "I appreciate getting the word."
"You'll be going, then?" Roche asked.
"I said thanks for delivering the message. We'll take it from here." Damned if he'd let anybody know what his plans were. Especially since he didn't know himself.
"Well, just so you got the word. I said I'd deliver it."
"Thanks," Haakon said. "Can I buy you another?"
"No. I'll be going. See you." The herm rose and made a sketchy bow to the others before leaving.
"I don't trust him," Mirabelle said when the herm was gone.
"Why?" Haakon asked. "Just because he has tits the size of yours and a schlong to his knees."
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THE SWORD, THE JEWEL, AND THE MIRROR
"No," she said imperturbably, "And don't think you can rattle me with vulgarity. I've spent too much time in jail. No, his timing is wrong, and he's too nervous. I vote we ignore this summons."
"I'd go along with you," Haakon said, "but it's kind of irrelevant, don't you think? We've been called by Timur Khan, and our main problem is how to survive whatever he has in store for us. The folks in the Cingulum just have to take second place. Come on, let's tie one on. We go meet with Timur Khan in the morning, and I'd hate to have to face him sober."
"Is he so fearsome?" Numa rumbled.
"We've told you about him," Jemal said. "In any case, you aren't going. Pray he never takes notice of you."
Timur Khan Bey hung his bow on its peg. The bow, along with its bow case and quiver, was the only decoration on the severely plain wall of his office in the Black Obelisk. A tall, intense, slender man of middle years, Timur Khan was the most feared human being of much of human-occupied space. He turned toward his desk.
"Send in the Eurynome team."
The door opened and a pair of BT guards led four humans into the office. The four were forced to their knees and made to bow until their foreheads touched the floor. "There aren't as many of you as there used to be," observed Timur Khan.
"Rand stays with the engines, as usual, Noyon," said 15
John Mdddox Roberts
Haakon, his voice somewhat muffled from speaking directly into the floor. "Rama is not well."
"Illness and injury are not sufficient excuse to ignore a summons from this office. I choose to overlook the offence this time. I have a mission for you."
"Let's hear it, Noyon," said Haakon, his face pressed to the floor.
"You are aware of the planet named Chamuka?"
If Haakon had had any hair, it would have been standing up. "Yes, Noyon." Chamuka was a notorious hellhole of a planet.
"Some time ago, I sent an elite regiment of my Black Tumans to quell a rebellion there with minimum disruption of the local economy. They have been taking excessive casualties both from the local rebels and from the natural hazards of the place. I want to know how it occurs that a miserable population of subhuman peasants can wreak such destruction among the best troops in the galaxy. Your task will be to infiltrate this movement and report to me. I do not expect you to destroy the rebellion, just observe and report, is that understood?"