"Henry Kuttner - Clash by Night (SS Collection) UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

Scott grinned. 'Nice handling. Lucky you didn't try to circle. We'd never have made it.'
'Yes, sir.' Kane took a deep breath. His eyes were bright with excitement.
'Circle now. Here.' He thrust a lighted cigarette between the boy's lips. 'You'll be a good Dooneman, Kane. Your reactions are good and fast.'
Thanks, sir.'
Scott smoked silently for a while. He glanced toward the north, but, with the poor visibility, he could not make out the towering range of volcanic peaks that were the backbone of Southern Hell. Venus was a comparatively young planet, the internal fires still bursting forth unexpectedly. Which was why no forts were ever built on islands - they had an unhappy habit of disappearing without warning!
The flitterboat rode hard, at this speed, despite the insulating system of springs and shock absorbers. After a ride in one of these 'spankers' - the irreverent name the soldiers had for them - a man needed arnica if not a chiropractor. Scott shifted his weight on the soft air cushions under him, which felt like cement.
Under his breath he hummed:
'It ain't the 'eavy 'aulin' that 'urts the 'arses' 'oofs, It's the 'ammer, 'ammer, 'ammer on the 'ard 'ighway!'
The flitterboat scooted on, surrounded by monotonous sea and cloud, till finally the rampart of the coast grew before the bow, bursting suddenly from the fog-veiled horizon. Scott glanced at his chronometer and sighed with relief. They had made good time, in spite of the slight delay caused by the subsea volcano.
The fortress of the Mob was a huge metal and stone castle on the tip of the peninsula. The narrow strip that separated
it from the mainland had been cleared, and the pockmarks of shell craters showed where guns had driven back onslaughts from the jungle - the reptilian, ferocious giants of Venus, partially intelligent but absolutely intractable because of the gulf that existed between their methods of thinking and the culture of mankind. Overtures had been made often enough; but it had been found that the reptile-folk were better left alone. They would not parley. They were blindly bestial savages, with whom it was impossible to make truce. They stayed in the jungle, emerging only to hurl furious attacks at the forts - attacks doomed to failure, since fang and talon were matched against lead-jacketed bullet and high explosive.
As the flitterboat shot into a jetty, Scott kept his eyes straight ahead - it was not considered good form for a Free Companion to seem too curious when visiting the fort of another Company. Several men were on the quay, apparently waiting for him. They saluted as Scott stepped out of the boat.
He gave his name and rank. A corporal stepped forward.
'Cine Mendez is expecting you, sir. Cine Rhys telaudioed an hour or so back. If you'll come this way-'
'All right, corporal. My pilot-'
'He'll be taken care of, sir. A rubdown and a drink, perhaps, after a spanker ride.'
Scott nodded and followed the other into the bastion that thrust out from the overhanging wall of the fort. The sea gate was open, and he walked swiftly through the courtyard in the corporal's wake, passing a door-curtain, mounting an escalator, and finding himself, presently, before another curtain that bore the face of Cine Mendez, plump, hoglike, and bald as a bullet.
Entering, he saw Mendez himself at the head of a long table, where nearly a dozen officers of the Mob were also seated. In person Mendez was somewhat more prepossessing than in effigy. He looked like a boar rather than a pig - a
fighter, not a gourmand. His sharp black eyes seemed to drive into Scott with the impact of a physical blow.
He stood up, his officers following suit. 'Sit down, captain. There's a place at the foot of the table. No reflections on rank, but I prefer to be face to face with the man I'm dealing with. But first- you just arrived? If you'd like a quick rubdown, we'll be glad to wait.'
Scott took his place. 'Thank you, no, Cine Mendez. I'd prefer not to lose time.'
'Then we'll waste none on introductions. However, you can probably stand a drink.' He spoke to the orderly at the door, and presently a filled glass stood at Scott's elbow.
His quick gaze ran along the rows effaces. Good soldiers, he thought - tough, well trained, and experienced. They had been under fire. A small outfit, the Mob, but a powerful one.
Cine Mendez sipped his own drink. 'To business. The Doonsmen wish to hire our help in fighting the Helldivers. Virginia Keep has bought the services of the Helldivers to attack Montana Keep.' He enumerated on stubby fingers. 'You offer us fifty thousand cash and thirty-five per cent of the korium ransom. So?'
That's correct.'
'We ask fifty per cent.'
'It's high. The Doones have superior manpower and equipment.'
'To us, not to the Helldivers. Besides, the percentage is contingent. If we should lose, we get only the cash payment.'
Scott nodded. 'That's correct, but the only real danger from the Helldivers is their submarine corps. The Doones have plenty of surface and air equipment. We might lick the Helldivers without you.'
'I don't think so.' Mendez shook his bald head. 'They have some new underwater torpedoes that make hash out of heavy armour plate. But we have new sub-detectors. We can blast the Helldivers' subs for you before they get within torpedo range.'
Scott said bluntly, 'You've been stalling, Cine Mendez.
We're not that bad off. If we can't get you, we'll find another outfit.'
'With sub-detectors?'
'Yardley's Company is good at undersea work.'
A major near the head of the table spoke up. 'That's true, sir. They have suicide subs - not too dependable, but they have them.'
Cine Mendez wiped his bald head with his palms in a slow circular motion. 'Hm-m-m. Well, captain, I don't know. Yardley's Company isn't as good as ours for this job.'
'All right,' Scott said, 'I've carte blanche. We don't know how much korium Virginia Keep has in her vaults. How would this proposition strike you: the Mob gets fifty per cent of the korium ransom up to a quarter of a million; thirty-five per cent above that.'
'Forty-five.'
'Forty, above a quarter of a million; forty-five below that sum.'
'Gentlemen?' Cine Mendez asked, looking down the table. 'Your vote?'
There were several ayes, and a scattering of nays. Mendez shrugged.
'Then I have the deciding vote. Very well. We get forty-five per cent of the Virginia Keep ransom up to a quarter of a million; forty per cent on any amount above that. Agreed. We'll drink to it.'
Orderlies served drinks. As Mendez rose, the others followed his example. The cine nodded to Scott.
'Will you propose a toast, captain?'
'With pleasure. Nelson's toast, then - a willing foe and sea room!'
They drank to that, as Free Companions had always drunk that toast on the eve of battle. As they seated themselves once more, Mendez said, 'Major Matson, please telaudio Cine Rhys and arrange details. We must know his plans.'
'Yes, sir.'
Mendez glanced at Scott. 'Now how else may I serve you?'
'Nothing else. I'll get back to our fort. Details can be worked out on the telaudio, on tight beam.'
'If you're going back in that flitterboat,' Mendez said sardonically, 'I strongly advise a rubdown. There's time to spare, now we've come to an agreement.'