"E. C. Tubb - Dumarest 04 - Kalin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

billowing across the street. The sound of breaking glass came
from the business section where shops which had economized on
shutters were providing meat for the looters. A band of men
appeared, lurched toward the gate and then disappeared into a
tavern. Light shone from the open door but quickly vanished as
the panel slammed. The trader licked his lips.

"A drink," he said. "I could do with something to wet the
gullet." He licked his lips again. "How about it, Earl? Shall we
walk down to that tavern and order a bottle? Hell," he added,
"why not? No one can possibly have cause to hate us on this
planet, so where's the danger?"

It was there: Dumarest could smell it, sense it riding like
smoke on the air. The blood-craze of normally decent people
suddenly relieved of all restraint. More. Proving themselves by
being the first to accuse, the loudest to complain, the quickest to
act.

Among such people, how long would a stranger last?

The thin-faced vendor moved restlessly. He was getting cold
and bored and thought longingly of the comfort waiting in the
ship. Also he should attend to his samples. That symbiote from
Een: it was time he wore it. If he put it off too long the thing
would encyst to sporofulate which, if not tragic, would be an
inconvenient nuisance.

A shout came from down the road. A man lurched from
between two buildings, a bottle in one hand, a long knife in the
other. He crossed the street, stood swaying, then vanished down
an alley. Another followed him, a woman with long, unkempt
hair. She carried a crude club made of a stone lashed to a stick.
Crude, but effective enough if swung against a skull. On Logis
revenge wasn't forestalled by poverty.

"She's after him," said the trader. "Did you see that, Earl?
She's tracking him down as if he were a beast. Waiting until she
can sneak up on him and smash in his head." He chuckled.
"Unless he sees her first." he qualified. "He wasn't carrying that
knife for fun."

"Murderers," said the vendor. He sounded disgusted. "Let's
get back to the ship and breathe some clean air."

The trader bristled. "Now wait a minuteтАФ"
 "Murderers," repeated the vendor. "Not you, them. I enjoy a
little excitement as much as the next man but what are we
seeing? An even match? A regulated bout with ten-inch knives,
first-blood winner or to the death? An even melee? Listen," he