"E. E. Doc Smith - D'Alembert 10 - Revolt of the Galaxy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

tendency to prefer the individual over the police. Now all he had to do was hope the police
behaved like police. Nothing would more insure his winning the farmer's sympathy than highhanded
behavior from the security forces.
As soon as Pias was out of sight the farmer walked to the barn door where he was met by the leader
of the security team. Pias could not see what was happening from his hiding place, but the sound
of their voices reached him well enough.


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"Are you the owner here?" the security leader asked, and her voice was so brisk and businesslike
it made Pias smile. She would do a splendid job of alienating the farmer and shifting his
sympathies toward Pias.
"Yes," the farmer answered tersely.
"Have you seen any strangers around?"
"Is there any trouble?"
"I'll ask the questions, you answer them."
"Ain't seen no one I'd call a stranger," the farmer said. "We're pretty out of the way; don't get
many visitors."
"What about you? Is your card in order?"
"Should be, I don't use it much."
"Let me see it."
"It's in the house."
The security leader fumed. "You're supposed to carry it with you at all times."
"I did, at first, but I got out of the habit. My bullards all recognize me by sight."
"Just get it and stop trying to be clever."
The footsteps walked away from the barn toward the small farmhouse, and Pias could no longer hear
what was going on. He waited in suspense for an agonizingly long time until finally he heard the
copters take off once more. A few minutes after that, when they were no longer in range, he could
hear the barn door swing open again and the farmer called to him, "You can come out again."
Pias did so and found that the farmer still had the rifle handy. He might distrust the
authorities, but that didn't mean he automatically trusted Pias.
"I know I've brought you trouble, and I'm sorry for it," Pias apologized sincerely. "I'd like to
pay you for letting me stay here for the night, and for dinner, too, if you can spare it. Tomorrow
morning I'll be on my way and you needn't bother about me again."
"We don't take money for hospitality here," the farmer said. His rifle was no longer pointed
directly at Pias, but he kept it tucked in the crook of his arm just in case. Pias knew that the
stubbornness of the Newforest people would keep the man from acknowledging friend ship for a while
yet - but he also knew the extent of his own charm and was confident the man and his family would
be on his side before the evening was out.
The farmer's name, Pias discovered, was Mestipen Smitt and his wife was Klarika. They had five
children and earned a decent living here on the farm, enough to suit their modest needs. Pias
offered to help with the evening chores and his enthusiastic hard work finally convinced Smitt
that he was no threat to the family and was entitled to come into the house as company rather than
as a prisoner.
The Smitt family accepted Pias into their home with all the generosity of which Newforesters were
capable. Klarika fixed him a delicious meal and refused his offer of payment. As the family sat
around the dinner table, Pias's gentle probing brought forth a picture of recent life on
Newforest.