"Joe Haldeman - Guardian" - читать интересную книгу автора (Haldeman Joe)

and said he'd overridden his boy on that one, as well; they only carried a rifle, for game.
Carrying a pistol would more likely get you into trouble than out of it, he said, echoing
my sentiment.
Writing that down, I have to wonder again whether that was the turning point of
all our lives. Everyone on this planet.
Doc and Chuck went off with an empty pushcart and the list while I took Daniel
and his heavily laden cart to our new home. I offered to help him push it up the hills, but
he good-naturedly declined, saying there would be nothing but hills from Skagway on.
We unloaded the cart into our room and relaxed in the parlor for a while, having
tea made with an electrical kettle. I realized it was one of the last times I would have
alone with Daniel, and although I tried not to be sentimental, he sensed my natural
anxiety and nervously tried to make light of the dangers he was facing.
He looked fit and strong. For years he had been working summers and weekends
at the press room, and much of that was heavy lifting. He also lifted weights and wrestled
at school, an enthusiasm that had left me both surprised and relieved.
We finished our tea and pushed the cart back down to the hurly-burly near the
docks, where Doc and Chuck were waiting at the Chowder House. To our surprise and
Daniel's delight, they had secured us space on a Russian steamer, the White Nights,
leaving for Skagway the next day. Our accommodations were the same as we had
enjoyed on the trip from San Francisco, a tent on the deck, but this time we had a real
tent. And over a ton of food.
We examined the list and divided it in two, with the Colemans basically going
after hardware and Daniel and I gathering medicine, cooking utensils, and all the clothing
except shoes and boots, which each would try on himself. We would also pick up the
remaining food, evaporated milk and dried fruit, adding from my Chamber of Commerce
list crystallized eggs, if we could find them, and lime juice to prevent scurvy—and
improve the flavor of the cheap whiskey.
We would take our bounty directly to the ship, where there was supposed to be an
armed guard for overnight security. Chuck volunteered to sleep with the goods, though,
while the rest of us had one last night under a roof.
All three men were about the same size, so buying clothes was a simple matter of
Dan trying them on and buying three sets. It was a bulky lot, rather than heavy, but we
managed by lashing the pile down on the cart. Daniel couldn't see over the pile, so I had
to guide him through the streaming crowd down to the docks and the White Nights. The
gangway was steep and he did let me help pull the cart up.
The Colemans weren't there yet, and the officer on deck, a young man who
seemed flustered by having a woman on board, spoke no English. He did respond to
Daniel's Latin—the first time he had used it outside the classroom—and led us to our
cache, an area marked off with red ribbons and COLMAN/FLEMARION chalked on the deck.
We stacked the bags and boxes and then took a tour of the ship. "Rust bucket"
was the term that Daniel used, and I just hoped it had enough sturdy rust to keep us afloat
as far as Skagway. A lot of it was leaving the ship via a steady stream of brown water
being pumped out from below.
The Russian ship had not been built with passengers in mind. It did have a large
cargo area on deck, and that's what we were. The only concession to the cargo being
human was an outhouse rigged over the stern.
 We read and wrote until it began to get dark. I was starting to worry about the
Colemans, when at last they heaved their way aboard, complaining that there wasn't a
pick to be had in all of Seattle, though they did find four pick handles. I supposed they
would be easy enough to come by in Skagway, though at an inflated price.