"Smith, E E 'Doc' - SubSpace Vol 2 - Subspace Encounter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

the Throne."

"Just that. " She threw back her head and laughed. "Exactly. A special bonus. I told you
His Magnificence likes smooth work, and the way I got myself out of that jam-and him,
too, for that matter-he hated the crumb, too, and had been wondering how to get rid of
him without."

"Wait a minute!" he broke in. "The more you talk the more baffled I get. If the Tyrant
didn't like him, he'd feed him to the eagles, wouldn't he? And wouldn't he do it anyway, to
back you up."

"Uh-uh." She shook her head. "The answer is `No.' To both questions. In theory perhaps
he could, but in practice no ruler ever has been or ever will be the absolute despot most
people think he is. That is, not for long. He has to play footsie with the biggies or die
quick, even surrounded by Purps by the dozen. So His Magnificence has to . . .
cooperate with the Grand Justice of Garsh-as the Number One of the Council of Justices
he swings altogether too much weight to be offended needlessly, and the Masked Marvel
had a kingsize in with the Grand Justice of Garsh. See? As for taking my part; don't be
naive. Why should he? He was watching that fight with his eyes out on stalks-all aquiver
to find out whether I had the stuff or not. If a FirSec can't fight her own battles and bury
her own dead she gets fed to the eagles-or at least gets kicked down-status to a job she
can handle."

Rodnar whistled. "Wow and wow," he said. "When I said high-stats had their griefs . . .
well, that's one I certainly never thought of."

She shrugged. "To each his own," she said, then went on, "The reason that's so trite is
because it's so true. Anyway, he liked the operation so well that I'm in with him so strong
I can scarcely believe it myself. He got the point instantly when I suggested my taking
care of you and your grant and tossed you right into my lap. So you see I can't cross the
old boy up. Rod; not even for you."

"Of course you can't, my dear. I don't want you to. I'm not out to cross anybody up."

"No?" Her lovely face hardened. "Then you are not going in for any of this psionics
squank."

This was it; the place where he'd have to walk a tightrope. "The possibility is not
excluded," he said, carefully.

He actually felt her withdrawal. "A while ago I would have said you were either a fool or a
knave," she declared, "but before I staked my life on your quality I learned very well that
you're neither. So I'll listen. Especially since there's no use pretending that our
relationship is anything ordinary anymore. But Rod, I simply can't swallow such abysmal
nonsense as ectoplasm, talking to the spirits of the dead, flying saucers, telepathic little
blue men from the third moon of Skane, precognizing my own death from being shot in
the flank with a spear gun, kinestheticking a."

"Hold it!" he broke in. "Good for you! I can't, either, but I'll bet my half of that check that
you have intuitions, and I know that I have hunches."