"Debra Doyle & James MacDonald - Mageworlds 01 - The Price of the Stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Debra)

Domina of Lost Entibor.”

Her father shook his head. “As it happens, I didn’t have anything of the sort in mind.”

“Then what-?”

“You say that Claw Hard’s a pile of junk and Osa’s a bastard. How would you like to be
captain of Warhammer instead?”

She caught her breath. “Me? Pilot Warhammer?” For a moment, in spite of all that she’d just
heard, the prospect dazzled her like walking out of a cave into the sunlight. Then she shook her head. “I
don’t have the kind of money a ship like the ’Hammer would cost. And I’m not taking any family
favors.”

“Don’t worry,” said her father. “I’m not in the business of doing favors, family or otherwise. And
I’m not asking anything you can’t afford.”

“There’s more than one way of looking at that,” said Master Ransome quietly. “And I don’t
particularly approve of what you’re doing.”

“Then stay out of it,” said her father. “I don’t approve of everything the Guild does, either-but I
don’t interfere in things that aren’t my business.”

He turned back to Beka. “Are you interested?”

“In getting Warhammer? Of course I’m interested.”

She looked about the common room-cramped, grey, and utilitarian-and thought about all the
things that had made this ship a legend during the Magewar. The heavy dorsal and ventral energy guns.
The cargo holds that had once held the captured treasures of the Mageworlds trade. The speed no ship
of her class had ever equaled.

I could stick to small cargo, Beka thought, pricey stuff, and run it fast. With those guns,
even flying solo I wouldn’t get in too much trouble. I could outshoot anything I couldn’t outrun.

She bit her lip-that was fantasy, and she knew it-and met her father’s gaze directly. “Ships like
the ’Hammer don’t come cheap. And I haven’t exactly struck it rich out here.”

“I don’t want money,” General Metadi said. “I want to know who planned your mother’s
murder.”

“Planned?”

“What do you think, girl?” he demanded harshly. “A lunatic with a blaster could happen any time,
and a shorted-out force field could be bad luck, and the wrong antiseptic could be delivered to the
Council medics by accident-but not all three at once. Somebody wanted your mother out of the way, and
wanted it badly. Hired blasters cost money, but getting that Clyndagyt past Security must have cost even
more.”
 “You’re talking about somebody very, very rich,” she said quietly. “And very, very powerful.
And I’m very, very sorry, but I gave up running around with people like that seven years ago. Much as