"Margaret St Clair - The Stroller" - читать интересную книгу автора (St. Clair Margaret)

THE STROLLER
By MARGARET ST. CLAIR
How could supercargo George Saunders know of the parasitic forces
stowed away in that consignment of Fyella corymbs?

ALL sorts of things come in on a space freighter. Even in the old days grocers were always finding
twenty-foot pythons curled cozily inside bunches of bananas from South America; and what sort of
undesired stowaways do you suppose you get when you have a cargo of tongarus from south Venus,
agatized Fyella corymbs from the district around Aphrodition, hand-painted lumigraphs on Boor fiber
made in Marsport prefecture, and golden rhnx jewelry from the canal centers?
George Saunders, supercargo of the S.S. Trito, gave his wife a warm kiss on the cheek.
"For Pete's sake," he hissed into her ear, "act like you're glad to see me, can't you? The Old Man's
watching us."
Marta Saunders hesitated a moment and then threw her plump body into her husband's arms.
"Oooh, Georgie!" she squealed. "You sweet old thing! It's so wonderful to see you again!"
"That's enough," George rumbled warningly. He was swaying a little from the impact. "Don't want to
overdo it. Let's get out of here."
They started over to the parking area of the spaceport, where their 'copter was.
"What's the matter?" Marta demanded as soon as they were out of earshot of the ship. "What do you
care what the captain thinks about us?"
"Listen, Marta, the old fool's been riding me ever since we left Aphrodition. Says I'm the most
incompetent supercargo he's ever had. Just before we docked today, he said he thought he'd take it up
with the union. If he does, you know what'll happen. Pynx said the last time that if he got one more
complaint about me he'd take the case to the executive board. I'd lose my license, sure."
"Oh." Marta seemed unwillingly impressed. She got an atomizer out of her handcase and began
spraying quick-drying cosmilac over the skin of her face and neck. "But what happened?" she asked an
instant later when the cosmetic had set. "Why's he so down on you?"
For a moment the fine-etched lines of irritation and petulance faded from George Saunders' face, to
be replaced by an expression of honest perplexity.
"Marta, IтАФwait, here's the 'copter. I'll tell you about it after we get in. And for the love of heaven,
don't drop any pop bottles out of the window the way you did the last time I was in port. Having the air
police after us would be the last straw, as far as my nerves are concerned."
He slid into the driver's seat. Marta got two bottles of pop out of the refrigerator, shoved straws into
their necks, pulled a shelf out of the paneling to hold one bottle at a convenient level under George's
nose, and began drinking out of the other herself.
"Well?" she asked after a couple of swallows.
George drank from his bottle before replying.
"It's the darnedest thing. I remember beginning to load number two and three holds at Aphrodition,
and I remember telling the longshore leaderman to have the hatch covers put on again when the holds
were filled, but there're six or eight hours in there during the loading I don't remember a single thing
about. They're totally gone.
"Well, the way the ship handled at the take-off from Aphrodition, the Old Man thought there must be
something wrong, and when we were out in space he went in for a look. Wow! I can see, sort of, why
he's sore. Those holds look like somebody'd stirred the things in 'em up with a big stick. About a third of
the cargo's ruined. The tongarus have leaked all over those blasted lumigraphs, andтАФ Well, the insurance
company is going to raise blue murder, and the owners won't like it one little bit."
George licked his thin lips.
"What I want to know," he burst out, "is what happened to me? I must have told the longshoremen
to load the holds like that, butтАФ When we were two days out of Venus, I asked Sparks (he's had a
pre-medical course, and he's saving up the tuition for medical school) to look me over. He gave me all