"James Alan Gardner - League of Peoples 07 - Radiant" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner James Alan)

In Tut's defense I'll admit he was a skilled Explorer. He'd graduated from the Academy five years before
I had, and his grades had been excellent. He'd even won an award in microbiology, his field of
specialization. (My specialization was biochem... a natural choice after all the hours I'd spent analyzing
the fluid from my cheek.)

Tut was the sort to throw himself unreservedly into whatever he chose to do. He was a quick learner
and possessed a high degree of patience—anobsessive degree of patience. I never had cause to criticize
his handling of equipment or his knowledge of operating procedures.

But Tut was as mad as a mongoose. Not violently so—since he was still alive after five years in space,
the League of Peoples obviously didn't consider him a threat to others. I often enjoyed his company, and
found him helpful as a mentor: he'd had five years' on-the-job experience, and he taught me many things
my academic training hadn't covered.

But none of that mattered. How could I trust a lunatic in life-or-death situations? Why was Tut on active
duty when anyone could see he wasnon compos mentis?

I asked him that once. Tut just laughed. "They don't need us sane, Mom. They just need us ready to
bleed." He chucked his finger under my chin like a fond uncle amused by his young niece. "If they
rejected head cases, Mom, you wouldn't be here either."

I was so affronted by his insinuation I stormed out of the room, stomped back to my cabin, and made
thirteen statues of little gold-faced men being disemboweled by tiger-headed demons. When I showed
Tut the results, he said, "Shiny-finey! Could I eat one?" I told him no, but later I noticed my favorite
demon was missing.



Two months and fifty-four statuettes later, we finally received a distress call.

At the time,Pistachio was transporting twelve dignitaries to the planet Cashleen: six officers from the
navy's Diplomatic Corps and six civilian envoys from the Technocracy's Bureau of Foreign Affairs. Since
Tut and I had no immediate duties, we always got assigned to play host for any honored guests who
came aboard... but this particular group of VIPs took one look at my face and instantly became
self-sufficient. My cheek had the wondrous power to make the mighty say, "No, no, I can do my own
laundry."

So I'd had little contact with the diplomats on that flight. I didn't even know what their mission was.
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However, Cashleen was the homeworld of the Cashling race—longtime allies of the Technocracy—so I
assumed this was just the routine diplomacy that goes on between friendly powers.

The team of envoys certainly didn't behave as if their trip was important. Instead of preparing for the
work ahead, they spent most the voyage getting drunk and trying to seduce the better-looking members
ofPistachio's crew. For the entire week of the flight, Tut never went to bed alone. He told me, "Hey,
Mom, everyone loves to lick gold. Did you think it was just on my face?" I consoled myself with the