"Philip E. High - Invader on My Back" - читать интересную книгу автора (High Phillip E)

Scanned by Highroller.

Proofed more or less by Highroller.

Made prettier by use of EBook Design Group Stylesheet.



Invader on My Back by
Philip E. High
Chapter One
THE NORMS had long since moved from the cities; so had the police.
Those who remained were jubilant to a degree—it was a pity to lose the
police. Cop-killing had been, if not materially rewarding, a considerable
boost to prestige. Now they must find other ways of impressing their
fellows.

The police themselves, once clear of the cities, formed according to city
opinion, an unholy alliance with the Armed Services. Between them, they
built enormous forts, reminiscent of the ancient prison camps, which they
surrounded with lights, weapons and lethal invisible barriers. Wiseacres
asked if the forts had been built to keep the bad elements out or the police
in.

Periodically, however, the police made savage punitive raids on the
cities—this was when the cities began to get ideas about the Norms.

The Norms, generally speaking, built their rural communities, but a
great many people had died in the early days of the Troubles and left room
for expansion. Again, only the hubs of the great cities remained. The once
sprawling suburbs had long ago been pounded to dust in countless clashes
of arms.

Besides rearranging the social structure of the race, the Troubles had
also brought about sharp caste divisions which had nothing to do with
wealth, heritage, color, creed, or any previously known cultural factor.
These new castes were know by commonplace and often slightly vulgar
terms of reference.
There were, of course, the police, the Norms, the Scuttlers—every
community has its Scuttlers—the Delinks, who could be subdivided into
various categories, and the Stinkers.

The Stinkers were few and unique because a Stinker didn't develop into
a Stinker until late adolescence. Once developed, he was exceedingly lucky
if he survived a year; usually Stinkers ended up in some quiet place with a
lot of holes in their backs.

If, however, by good fortune or singular ability, he lived a year, his
chances of survival were good. If he lived two years, he would probably die
of old age: no one but a madman would try to take an experienced Stinker.