"Barry Longyear - Savage Planet" - читать интересную книгу автора (Longyear Barry)

Michael closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Then he shook his head.
Opening his eyes, he leaned his head against the back of the seat. No one
who has sold out has a right to be bitter, he thought. Why am I doing
this? As the good Mr. Sutton replied when asked why he robbed banks:
"That's where the money is." He nodded and tried to sleep. Recognize it,
accept it, and to Hell with it.

A week to Bendadn, and Michael Fellman parked his water wagon and
headed toward the ship's lounge for the first time. He had played with a
vague thought of using his experience on Bendadn as an excuse for
turning over a new leaf, but as the trip and his studies of Manifest
dragged on, his resolve wore as thin as the cliche. As he slouched in an
overpadded booth sipping his fifth Martini, he had to admit that Rolf
Mineral Industries allowed one to sell out in style.

"Mind if I join you?"

Michael looked up and made out the face of Jacob Lynn, RMI's Project
Manager for Bendadn. The man who would be the top RMI man on the
planet. Michael held out a hand. "Be my guest, sahib."

Lynn raised his eyebrows, then laughed as he sat and placed his drink
on the table. "You ivory-tower hypocrites really kill me." He sipped at his
drink, then laughed again as he lowered it to the table.
 "Perhaps you could share the cause of your amusement, Mr. Lynn."

His face in smiles, but his eyes colder than RMI steel, Lynn leaned back
and studied Michael. "I've been wandering around the lounge listening to
some of you old mossbacks bitching and whining about life in general, and
their own places in it in particular."

Michael nodded. "And, Mr. Lynn, you are pleased with your place in
this universe?"

"Yes." He nodded and sipped again from his drink. "There are still
things that I want, but now that I've made my peace with reality, I know
I'll get most of them." He smiled and waved a hand in the direction of a
booth full of graying instructors working hard with the free booze, trying
to forget its price. "Look at them. For the first time in their lives they are
being practical. But all they can do is pickle their heads to try and ease the
pain of growing up."

"You seem to take a perverse pleasure in their distress, Mr. Lynn."
Michael sipped again at his Martini. "Particularly when they in all
likelihood don't even understand why they are unhappy."

Lynn nodded, then faced Michael. "But you understand it, Fellman.
That's why you're the biggest hypocrite in the bunch. And, yes, I do enjoy
it." Lynn finished off his drink and motioned to a steward for a refill. "The
reason isn't too hard to understand, Fellman. When I left the university,