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

smiling. He picked one up and went through a dazzling sword drill with it. "It is a descendant of the ancient katana of our people, adapted for conditions on Grass Cutter. With one of these, you can shear through a python vine at a single stroke, before it has a chance to strangle you. Also handy for dueling, a popular pastime here."
"What we stand in most need of is hailstone protection," Haakon said. "Can you outfit us?"
"I have everything you need," he assured them.
"Why are the buildings constructed in this fashion?" Soong asked as he was measured for his armor.
"It is light and airy, which is a blessing in this climate, and there is little to crush you when the earthquakes strike.1"
"I might have known that you had earthquakes," Haakon said. "Very frequent?"
"Nothing like the hailstorms," the shopkeeper said. "We have severe ones no more than once or perhaps twice per month. The roofs come down in one piece, so if you aren't directly under one of the cornersЧyou notice how the sides arch up?Чyou have an excellent chance of escaping serious injury. Most partitions are made of cloth or paper and the support poles are hollow.'' He rapped one to demonstrate.
"What recreational facilities are available here?" Haakon asked.
"Probably nothing as lavish as you are accustomed to. There is an inn at the edge of town, if you plan to stay for the night. The service there is adequate. Most of our few
32
THE SWORD, THE JEWEL, AND THE MIRROR
transient spacers and the port personnel and the odd military person frequent the tavern across the square, the one with scarlet lettering on a gold background. Do your boots have armored insoles?" They answered in the affirmative. "Good. There is a little plant here called a pungi. It grows in depressions in the ground, disguised by grass. About fifteen centimeters in length, perhaps five millimeters in diameter, very sharp point. It will go right through your foot."
"No poison?" Haakon asked.
"Oh, no. But it stays in your foot. There is a little insect which lays its eggs in the pungi. At the proper temperature they hatch, andЧ"
"Don't tell us," Haakon said hastily. "We'll just keep our boots on and try to avoid the wilds." He tried on a rectangular plate that was designed to hang from the shoulder and protect the whole upper arm. A skirt of similar plates protected the body from waist to knees. Shin-plates strapped on over their boots, with projections to cover knee and instep. A boxlike cuirass covered the torso with four hinged plates and buckled at the sides. The upper shoulders were covered by the helmet's spreading brim. There were close-fitting plates for the forearms, but Haakon elected to retain his steel bracelets.
Soong selected a shallow, conical helmet and tried it on. "We still wear a hat like this at home. Made of straw, though."
Haakon tried one with a dome-shaped crown and a wide neck guard. "Why isn't it made like battle armor?" he asked. "Close-fitting, with articulated joints. This system of curtains seems awkward."
33
John Maddox Roberts
"We have found this type to be superior," the shopkeeper assured him. "It is light and does not hamper movement; it allows.air to circulate. After you have worn it a while, you will feel relatively comfortable Jn it. The local contingent of the Black Tuman have insisted upon wearing their conventional battle armor, and their casualties have been high."
"From Chamukan Mama Nature or from the Chamu-kans?" Jemal asked.
"Oh, from both," said the shopkeeper, beaming.
Dressed in their new finery, they stood on the veranda of the shop. The ceramic armor was finished in a multitude of bright colors to simulate lacquer. They had added swords of the local type. "I never felt so silly in my life," Haakon said.
"It's light, though, and easy to move around in," Jemal said. "Tell me, Soong, did the old Japanese warriors wear armor like this?"
"I believe so. Old paintings I have seen show samurai dressed in roughly similar armor. It may be coincidence that the same design is suited to the exigencies of life here."
"Let's find that tavern," Haakon said. "We haven't been acting suspicious enough so far."
There were few people in the streets. Two men were passing in front of them when they heard a loud buzzing. A big blur was coming down the street at about shoulder level. It was headed straight for one of the two men in front of them. Before they could say a word, one of the men ripped out his sword and cut straight out in a single
34
THE SWORD, THE JEWEL, AND THE MIRROR
motion. The blur intersected the blade and flew off in two pieces. The two men laughed and the swordwielder wiped off his blade with a piece of tissue and sheathed the weapon without looking at his scabbard.
Half of the blur had landed at Jemal's feet. It was a fist-sized insect equivalent, divided neatly from a spot between the compound eyes, down the thorax and abdomen, and through its long, pointed tail. The side they could see bore five jointed legs and a pair of large, gauzy wings. "No wonder they use steel," Jemal said. "I don't think a powerblade could charge up that fast. Remind me not to tangle with these people." Coming from a bladesman like Jemal, it was high praise.
They crossed the square, scanning their surroundings warily, and mounted the veranda of the tavern. A number of loungers sat at tables drinking from small cups. Conversation was notably muted, presumably so people would be able to hear the warning buzz of approaching insects. Some of the loungers were clearly local, others wore their armor awkwardly.
Like, the shopkeeper, the bartender spoke fluent spacer. "What will you gentlemen have?"
"What's the local specialty?" Haakon asked.
"We have wines, brandy, and beer. Nothing else is drunk here, I fear."
"Let's have a representative sample of everything," Jemal suggested, "then we'll decide what to stay with."
The bartender set up several tiny cups of various liquids and they tried them all. The wines and brandies were far too sweet for their taste, so they settled on beer.
35
John Maddox Roberts
It came in liter bottles with a stylized picture of some horrible beast on the printed label.
"I hope that thing's mythical," Jemal said, brooding over a beer label.
"In this place I wouldn't count on it," Haakon cautioned. He turned to the bartender. "Tell me, friendЧ I've seen BT's around here. They aren't stationed nearby, are they?"
"They have a fortified encampment about three kilometers north of the spaceport. We seldom see them here in town."
"Good," Haakon said. He signaled for another beer.
The barkeep brought it. "You have no love for the BT's?"
"You ever hear of anybody who had?" Jemal said. The level of conversation at the tables had dropped fractionally. People were trying to eavesdrop.
"One never knows," the bartender temporized. "You are free traders?"
"Freer than most," Haakon assured him. If that didn't attract some outlaw attention, nothing would.
A small man rose from one of the tables and came to the bar. His armor rattled as if he were not used to it. "Just arrived, I take it?" His head was shaved, but he had a tiny chin beard that was bright blue, either dyed or a gene-sport.
"That's right," Haakon said.