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

"That's right," Haakon affirmed. "We just arrived this morning." He handed over the transient's permit he had been given at the port. The officer scanned it, his eyes slitted and mouth compressed into a thin line.
"You've come to the scummiest dive first thing, I see."
"Second," Haakon said, gesturing to his armor. "We thought it best to lay in some weather protection first. Besides," he said, looking around at the little town, "is there anyplace else around here to sample the delights of urban Chamuka?"
The officer went on as if he had not heard. "And you've taken up with some low companions."
LeMat smiled and shrugged. "Just buying the newcomers a drink, Subadar. I always do."
"Be careful of this one, spacers. Just being in his company puts you under suspicion. That one, too. Don't let his priestly pose fool you. The monasteries here are nests of bandits and rebels."
Soun raised both hands with palms outward at shoulder height. It was not a gesture of supplication, but of
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ritual. "Even a BT may be saved by calling upon the name of Amida."
"I am almost as suspicious of transients as I am of these two. Watch your step while you are here and don't stay long."
"Much as I hate the thought of leaving a garden spot like this," Haakon said, "I'll take your words to heart. We'll transact our business and be on our way."
"Where do you go from here?" Hulagu demanded. .
"We need some replacement parts. We were told at the port that there's a wrecking yard not far from here, back toward the port someplace. When we've had a few more of these," he said and held up an empty bottle, "we'll go find it and see if it has what we need."
"Keep to the areas closely patrolled by the official forces," Hulagu ordered, "and don't go wandering or exploring. You will give me cause to be suspicious. Besides, this is the deadliest planet in all of Bahadur's possessions that is even remotely habitable by humans."
"So I deduced," Jemal said, looking at Hulagu's men grouped around the transport. "I never saw a full senior Subador in charge of a mere squad. Casualties been heavy?"
Huiagu's expression did not change, but his attitude became that of a man about to commit violence. The tension crackled for a few seconds, then abruptly relaxed. He tossed the permit back to Haakon. "Watch yourself," he said.
Hulagu kept himself under extreme control all the way back to his transport. His instinct had been correct. The
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three newcomers were the ones he had encountered before, far from here. He also suspected them of being the cause for his being transferred to this hideous place. Now what could he do? He remembered them, but he also remembered where he had last seen them, and in whose presence. He climbed into the transport and the others scrambled aboard. "Back to the camp," he said.
"Looks to me like you've run into BT's before," LeMat said.
"Who hasn't?" Haakon asked. "Any free spacer who does business within the Bahadur hegemony has to take a lot of crap from BT soldiers like that one."
"He's no toy soldier," LeMat said, "and neither are the rest of them. They're tough, and they know their work."
"They are much better than the old troops," Soun agreed. "We used to joke about the foolish Bahadur soldiers who died so easily here. We joke no more. They are not as fine as the people of Grass Cutter, but they are fierce and skillful."
"Now that we've attracted attention," Soong suggested, "it might be best if we did not tarry here long."
"I agree," Haakon said. "If you gentlemen want to continue a business discussion, we'd better pick some other place to do it."
"No problem," LeMat said. "Just have a few more cold ones and go about your business. When you get to the wrecking yard, somebody will be there to meet you."
LeMat and Soun left the tavern, and Haakon ordered fresh ones all around before commencing serious discus-
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sion. "Was that the Subadar we met a while back, when Timur Khan sent us to Mughal?" he asked, first checking to make sure they were out of hearing distance from the other customers.
"That is the one," Soong confirmed. "I believe his name is Hulagu, one of those names out of Mongol history that the Bahadurans are so fond of. He spotted us from the street. I could see his expression from where I sat. He might easily have made trouble for us."
"I wish he had," Haakon said. "Then, if we got out of here alive, we could go back to Timur Khan and tell him one of his own boys blew our cover."
"He probably blames us for his being here. This is quite a comedown from Timur's own personal guard. We humiliated him in front of his boss and he got sent here as a reprimand."
"I have always thought that you behaved precipitately in that incident," Soong said.
"I wonder what Timur's pets are doing here?" Haakon pondered. "Do you think it's really for punishment?"
"Undoubtedly," Soong said, "it reflects some internecine power struggle within the Serene Powers. That is the kind of situation one is well advised to leave strictly alone."
"Except that it may well be why we're here," Jemal pointed out.
"Why are things always so complicated?" Haakon bemoaned. "Why doesn't he ever give us a simple job?"
"If it were simple," Soong pointed out, "he would not send the best."
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They hired a small transport to take-them to the wrecking yard and backtracked along the road to the port. Two or three kilometers from the port, they turned off onto a path surfaced only with stabilized dirt. Apparently, the vicissitudes of nature on Chamuka made paved roads more trouble than they were worth. The dense growth grew close to the road, and they kept a wary eye out for flying lethalities. Once in a while they glimpsed odd creatures fading back into the brush and they were not tempted to investigate.
The wrecking yard was an unfenced area dotted with the gutted hulks of several cannibalized ships. Most of them were vessels never designed to land, and they sagged and collapsed in a disconsolate fashion as age and the human urge for bargain prices reduced them to scraps of metal and plastic. Rand had equipped Haakon with a shopping list of the kind of items an ordinary free trader might need to keep his overaged ship spacing.
A man came out of a dome-shaped plastic structure wiping his hands with a scrap of cloth. His helmet had a face plate which was pushed up clear of his face, disclosing a countenance that was not native to Chamuka. "How may I be of service?" he asked.
Haakon handed him the list. "Do you have any of these whitchits?"
The man scanned the list. "Some of this we have. These Tesla transmission nodes, though, they deteriorate pretty fast. There should be some in that hulk over there." He pointed to the sad tail section of an old cruiser.
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