"G. F. Willmetts - Eat Me" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilmetts G F)

Eat Me
┬й 1999 G.F Willmetts (UK)



Prospecting is an old Earth custom for looking for hidden wealth or treasure.
Hardly surprising that it would be carried on when we finally went to the stars. It's cheaper to sell a man a
plot of land and tell him to dig it than bring in expensive machinery on the off-chance that something might
be there.

'Course, all that changes if some valuable mineral is there. You're instantly rich and they buy back the
mineral rights. If there's nothing there and the land is arable, you can always become a farmer.

A no-loss situation, providing you wanna be a farmer. Don't think I'll be a farmer yet. Found some veins
of cinnabar. Won't mean much to cityfolk by that name. If I said mercury your eyes should light up. The
stuff that's still used in thermometers and fluid links.

Not used in teeth fillings so much any more, but still a valuable find. Worth it's weight in gold. Better'n
silver. On Earth, the history books say that silver can often be found near mercury. Thirty light years from
Earth on a planet with a tolerable oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere could mean events repeating themselves.

Think I'll put in bids for land plots around my own before anyone else figures it out. Might just get lucky
again. All I've got to do is deliver my samples for confirmation and accept a pro-rota payment. Be able
to turn in this old truck for a better pair of wheels.

Better equipment. Wine, women and song are all right for a while but when you live out on the land for so
long, you start missing watching the stars over night. Making more money is also a strong incentive,
'specially at the price of the good life and a wealthy retirement. Aw shit! What's going on here.

Scuffing and duffing. Spot the dust pile. Even this far off the beaten track, there's always some poor sap
being mugged. I braked hard so they get due warning. Local inhabs. Better do something for public
relations or us so-called invading humans will be blamed for this as well. Jumping down from my truck, it
don't take long to get the picture.

Three of them beating some runt on the ground. Lanky bastards loaded with hair. Don't appear to be
armed, so no need for the gun. 'C'mon, ease off. This ain't a fair fight.'

Start with words to see if they understand humlang. They ignore me. I reach for one of the muggers, but
he moves out of range. They ain't deaf. All three of them speak in that whispery spitty language they use
and I ain't mastered.

At least they stopped beating on that little guy, whatever he is. Not sure I like the way, they're circling...
That's the way I last remember it anyway. Woke up seconds later with my face in the dirt. Musta clipped
my legs from behind. Must have thought I'm as hardy as they are and expected me to get up after them.

Lucky me. Lucky for the runt, too. He's still on the ground. Aw shit! They took me truck. I got up and
watched the dust trail heading towards town. Might not speak humlang but they knew how to shift the
truck out of gear. Forty kilometres.

Gonna be a bloody long walk. 'Do I thank the honourable human for my rescue now or later?' a voice