"Jack Vance - Assault on a City" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vance Jack)

Commander Tynnott and his family could wait another hour or two, or
two or three days, so far as Bo was concerned. Star-landers were much too
haughty and self-satisfied for Bo's taste. They acted as if the simple
process of flying space made them somehow superior to the folk who chose
to stay home in the cities.
During one of his rest periods he watched a cab glide down to a halt
nearby. A girl alighted and walked toward the aerie. Bo stared in
fascination. This was a girl of a sort he had never seen before: a girl
considerably younger than himself, perfectly formed, slender, but lithe and
supple, a creature precious beyond value. She approached with an easy
jaunty stride, as if already in her short life she had walked far and wide,
across hill and dale, forest trails and mountain ridges: wherever she chose
to go. Her polished copper hair hung loose, just past her jaw line; she was
either ignorant or heedless of the intricate coiffures currently fashionable
in Hant. Her clothes were equally simple: a blue-gray frock, white sandals,
no ornaments whatever. She halted beside the aerie, and Bo was able to
study her face. Her eyes were dark-blue and deep as lakes; her cheeks were
flat; her mouth was wide and through some charming mannerism seemed
a trifle wry and crooked. Her skin was a clear pale tan; her features could
not have been more exquisitely formed. She spoke to Bo without actually
looking at him. "I wonder where I get aboard."
Instantly gallant, Bo stepped forward. "Here; let me give you a leg up."
To touch her, to caress (even for an instant) one of those supple young legs
would be a fine pleasure indeed. The girl seemed not to hear him; she
jumped easily up to the rail and swung herself over.
Sarkane came forward. He made a brusque gesture toward Bo, then
turned to the girl. "I expect you're one of the owners. Tynnott, I think, is
the name?"
"My father is Commander Tynnott. I thought he'd already be here with
my mother. I suppose they'll be along soon." The girl's voice was as easy
and light-hearted as her appearance, and she addressed gray old Ed
Sarkane as if they had been friends for years. "You're no urbanite; where
did you get your cast?" She referred to the indefinable aspect by which
starlanders and spacemen were able to identify their own kind.
"Here, there and everywhere," said Sarkane. "Most of my time I worked
for Slade out in the Zumberwalts."
The girl looked at him with admiration. "Then you must have known
Vode Skerry and Ribolt Troil, and all the others."
"Yes, miss, well indeed."
"And now you're living in Hant!" The girl spoke in a marveling voice.
Bo's lips twitched. What, he wondered, was so wrong about living in Hant?
"Not for long," said Sarkane. "Next year I'm going out to Tinctala. My
son farms a station out there."
The girl nodded in comprehension. She turned to inspect the aerie.
"This is all so exciting; I've never lived in such splendor before."
Sarkane smiled indulgently. "It's not all that splendid, miss, or I should
say, not compared to the way the rich folk live up there." He gestured
toward Cloudhaven. "Still, they'd trade for aeries anytime, or so I'm told."
"There's not all that many aeries, then?"
"Two thousand is all there'll ever be; that's the law. Otherwise they'd be