"Eric Flint - Ranks of Bronze 2 - Carthago Delenda Est" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flint Eric)

Between grunts of pleasure, the Investigator said:

“No variant explanation can be discounted in advance, Voivode Agayan. Proper
investigatory technique is primarily a process of eliminating possibilities, one by one, until the
solution finally emerges.”

Agayan’s forelimb finger-cluster flexed sarcastically. “And are you now satisfied? Can we
finally lay to rest the—variant explanation!—that primitives somehow seized a Guild vessel?
After they had already been decisively defeated in battle?”

“Your own explanation would also have primitives seizing the ship,” pointed out the
Investigator.

Agayan restrained his anger. The self-control was difficult, but allowances had to be made.
Yuaw Khta, after all, had never personally witnessed the humans in action.

“There is no comparison,” he said forcefully. “It is true that the humans were also iron-age
barbarians. But their discipline and social coordination were many levels beyond those of any
other primitives you may have encountered.”

“So you say,” grunted the Investigator. Its long, bony face was twisted into an expression
which combined pain and pleasure.

To Agayan, watching, the whole process—what Yuaw Khta called a massage—seemed as
grotesque as the Investigator’s seated posture. To the Voivode’s soft-bodied species, pain was
pain and pleasure was pleasure, and never the twain shall meet. Not for the first time, Agayan
concluded that the vertebrate structure which was by far the most common Bauplan of the
galaxy’s intelligent races was a curse on its possessors. A preposterous structure, really.
Contradictory to the core.

Still, mused Agayan, it had its advantages.

Strength, for one. The Voivode glanced at the nearest of the sepoys standing silently against
the wall of the chamber. Now unencumbered by armor, the Gha’s bronze-colored, rangy body
was fully visible. Quite impressive, in its own crude way.

Especially this one, thought the Voivode. He’s the commander of the squad, I believe.

For a moment, Agayan’s gaze met the bulging eyes of the sepoy. As always, the Gha’s face
was utterly expressionless. To humans, that face would seem froglike in its shape. To the
Voivode, it simply seemed inanimate.

Gha, he reflected, were the most uninteresting species he had ever encountered. Barely
sentient, in his opinion, based on his long experience with the sepoys. The creatures never
expressed any sentiments in their faces, and they were as indistinguishable as so many pebbles.
This one, for instance—the one he supposed to be the sepoy commander. Agayan thought that
the Gha was the same one which had been in his service when he was a mere Guild Cacique.
But he was not certain.

He looked back at Yuaw Khta. The Investigator was now practically writhing in the