"Vinge Vernor & William Rupp - Just Peace" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vinge Vernor)

Chente almost laughed; buzzards, indeed! They certainly hadnтАЩt been named by the first-generation
colonists. In this light the creatures might almost have been mistaken for tall men stooped over low
against the ground. Their thin wings were clasped behind their backs as they walked slowly about.

Chente chose a medium-sized animal that was browsing away from the main group. He silently took his
pistol from his coverall and aimed. The beast screamed once, then ran fifteen meters, right into the
water-hole, where it collapsed. The others didnтАЩt need two warnings. The herd stampeded off to
ChenteтАЩs right. The creatures didnтАЩt run or flyтАФthey bounded, in long, wing-assisted leaps. The motion
reminded Chente of the impalas he had seen in the San Joaquin valley. In fact, their ecological niche was
probably similar. In which case, he thought, weтАЩd better watch out for whatever passes for lions
around here.

The humans picked themselves up, and walked slowly down toward the abandoned waterhole. Vicente
waded cautiously into the shallow, acrid-smelling water. The top of the buzzardтАЩs head was blown off. It
was probably dead, but he didnтАЩt take any chances with it. By the time he got the hundred-kilo carcass
out of the pool the short twilight was nearly ended. Martha took over the butcheringтАФthough she
remarked that buzzards didnтАЩt have much in common with the farm animals she was used to. Apparently
she had not spent her whole life administrating. He watched her work in the gathering darkness, glad for
her help and gladder for her presence.

When the beast was cut into small enough pieces, Chente took a short cylinder from his coveralls and fed
some of the meat into it. There was a soft buzzing sound, and then he pressed a cup into MarthaтАЩs hand.
тАЬBuzzard soup. Minus the heavy metal salts.тАЭ

He could just make out her silhouette as she slowly raised the cup to her lips and drank. She gagged
several times but got it all down. When Chente had his first taste he understood her reaction. The sludge
didnтАЩt taste edible.

тАЬThis will keep us alive?тАЭ Martha asked hoarsely.

тАЬFor a number of weeks, anyway. Over a longer time we'd need dietary supplements.тАЭ He continued
feeding the buzzard to the processor, and bagging the resulting slop.

тАЬWhy hasn't Earth given us the secret of this device, Vicente? Only one percent of New Providence has
soil free from metallic poisons, and Ontario is only three or four times better off. With your processor we
could conquer this planet.тАЭ

He shook his head. тАЬI doubt it. The machine is a good deal more complicated than it looks. On Earth, the
technology to build one has existed for less than thirty years. It's not enough to remove the heavy metals
from the meat. The result would still be poisonousтАФor at least nonnutritious. This thing actually
reassembles the protein molecules it rips apart. For the technique to be of any use to you, we'd have to
ship a factory whole. You justтАФтАЭ

Chente heard a faint hiss above and behind him. Martha screamed. As he whirled and drew his pistol he
was bowled over by something that had glided in on them in virtual silence. Chente and the birdlike
carnivore spun over in the spider-weed, the thingтАЩs beak searching for his face and throat but finding
ChenteтАЩs upthrust forearm instead. The claws and beak were like knives thrust into his chest and arm. He
fired his pistol and the explosion sent the attacker into pieces all over him.

Chente rolled to a sitting position and played fire around the unseen landscape in case there were others