"Bud Sparhawk - Alba Krystal" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sparhawk Bud)

ritual close the tape hissed to an end.

"So she's the survivor of a ship breakup!" Jorge wondered and fiddled with his beard. "Maybe there's a
reward -- enough to buy out of here."
"And maybe the reason the ship was destroyed is sleeping over there," Jerome said in a voice dripping
with doom. "Did you consider that somebody as important as her would be a most inviting target. Hell,
we might draw them here if they knew she was still alive!"

"Don't be such a damned pessimist," Doc chided. "Lots of ships get hulled in these skirmishes. Just
because this one happened to be carrying a Krystal . . ."

"Who was the sole survivor," Jerome reminded him. "And Celphus is a long way from any known
disputed area."

"Just the same, I think we ought to send word to her family. Let them know that she's all right," Jock
said.

"Where's the address? We'll have the next freighter carry a letter," Jerome replied sarcastically. "Did you
dodos forget that any word we send would have to be on broad band radio? And that would be heard
by several million people, some of whom could be the ones that destroyed her ship.

"Hell, we're lucky to hit home with our broadcasts -- and our station's aimed right at it. We try to hit
anyplace else and we'd probably miss by several light years. And who knows who would hear it then?"

Jorge spoke again. "Just the same, she can't stay here. Where'll she sleep? For that matter where will we
sleep? Let's call the lizards back and have them deliver her somewhere else, someplace where her own
kind can take care of her."

I was glad somebody finally said it: the thing we all felt and were hesitant to voice -- her own kind.

Don't get me wrong, I went into modification with both eyes, and my bank account, wide open. The pay
was good. The company was congenial, not surprising since the entire group was psychologically
designed to give diversity and an ever changing center of social balance. Finally, the tour was interesting
and out of the combat zones. It was a quiet, interesting but monastic life.

But when we had a fully-bloomed young female thrust into our midst it was too much a reminder of the
way things were and the long, long time before the tour was over and we could collect the millions
accumulating in our accounts. Jorge was right; having her here would bring nothing but trouble. Her
beauty was another trouble, one we hadn't had to consider until now.

"Yes, you're right," they all said and I nodded my head in agreement. She had to go. Doc started out to
give her the news.

Then the door to the galley squealed open and there she stood, wrapped in one of our blankets -- it
covered her to the waist. There was fear in those big wide eyes. "Please don't send me away," she
pleaded. "Let me stay with you. I'll try to help you, just let me stay." Then she did the one thing that put
us all on her side -- she cried.

Her story came out between choked sobs. Her branch of the family controlled business within the AI.
Over the last few years the members of her immediate branch had been meeting with all sorts of