"Ann Maxwell - Concord 3 - Name of a Shadow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maxwell Ann)

walkers and knew it would be useless to follow.
Ryth ran back to Kayle, and found the Nendleti studying the attackers by the thin beam of a light
pencil.
“Quickly,” said Ryth. “He might be back with better fighters.”
“Questioning won’t take long,” said Kayle dryly.
A narrow beam of light moved over the bodies of eight men. Each man’s throat had been cut. Ryth
swore in the twisting phrases of Sharn, then took out his own light pencil and began searching among the
trash.
“Why?” asked Kayle.
“Flexible plastic. As many pieces as you can find.”
When he had enough plastic, Ryth rolled the attackers’ weapons into clumsy packages. Kayle
watched, then gathered weapons with as much care as Ryth; at no time did either man touch the
weapons. When all the weapons were wrapped, Ryth piled them in the center of a large sheet of plastic
and knotted the sheet into a rude bundle. While Ryth worked, Kayle examined the bodies again.
“Anything?” asked Ryth, picking up the bundle.
“No. They are either Vintrans or Malians.”
“Malians?” said Ryth sharply.
“It’s possible, after what I heard yesterday about the two Malians.” Kayle swept the light over the
corpses one last time. “Vintra was colonized less than ten centuries ago. Neither phenotype nor genotype
has changed from Malia.”
“Do you think Malians would leave Malia to hunt you?”
“Why not? In a way, I’m hunting them. And apparently, I’m getting too close.” Kayle’s light slid from
face to face, illuminating death. Then he switched off the beam. “You fight well, Sharnn, but I must insist
on leading the way or carrying the burden.”
Ryth laughed silently and said in Malian, “I can think of no one I’d rather follow into danger.”
“So you know the Malian language—and Malian codes.”
“A little of both,” Ryth said. “Maran’s Song teaches a thousand patterns.”
“You interest me, Ryth,” said Kayle, his husky voice floating back from the purple darkness. “Just
enough to let you try for Malia. If you find your exception to Malian rules, I’ll give you an exception to
Concord proscription.”

Ryth and Kayle were the only passengers on the shuttle from Malia’s inner moon. Kayle was not
surprised; even before the Concord had proscribed Malia, the planet was classified as xenophobic to a
high degree. Malians had permitted no direct Access route for travelers to Malia’s surface, though almost
all other Concord planets had several major Accesses and hundreds of minor ones on their surfaces.
Malia had one personnel Access located on the inner moon. There were only ten freight Accesses for
each continent on Malia. And that was all.
The scarcity of Accesses was not due to physical law or to recent proscription or to lack of potential
trade and tourists. Rather, Malia simply forbade visitors and ignored the possibilities of commerce. Nor
had proscription bothered Malians. Even when citizens had been permitted to leave Malia whenever they
wished, few did. Except for those destined for Vintra, only three Malians had been recorded off-world in
any century since Malia had joined the Concord.
But the Sharnn had found a crack in Malia’s apparent xenophobia. By Malian rule, people of any
race who wanted to ask help from the Sandoliki Ti were permitted to spend one day on Malia.
Just one. And just once.
But that was a crack large enough for a Sharnn and a Nendleti to slide through.
Ryth sat quietly, listening to Kayle and correlating new information while Malia’s silver and turquoise
sphere grew rapidly on the shuttle’s screen.
“Also,” continued Kayle, “you will receive no exemption from Malian customs. Be prepared for
personal combat at any moment. And be prepared to kill. Although,” added Kayle, rubbing the textures