"Larry Niven - A Relic of the Empire (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niven Larry)

A RELIC OF THE EMPIRE

WHEN THE SHIP arrived, Dr. Richard Schultz-Mann was out among the plants, flying over and around
them on a lift belt. He hovered over one, inspecting with proprietary interest an anomalous patch in its yellow
foliage. This one would soon be ripe.
The nature-lover was a breadstick of a man, very tall and very thin, with an aristocratic head sporting a
close cropped growth of coppery hair and an asymmetric beard. A white streak ran above his right ear, and there was
a patch of white on each side of the chin, one coinciding with the waxed spike. As his head moved in the double
sunlight, the patches changed color instantly.
He took a tissue sample from the grayish patch, stored it, and started to move on.
The ship came down like a daylight meteor, streaking blue-white across the vague red glare of Big Mira. It
slowed and circled high overhead, weaving drunkenly across the sky, then settled toward the plain near Mann's
Explorer. Mann watched it land, then gave up his bumblebee activities and went to welcome the newcomers. He was
amazed at the coincidence. As far as he knew, his had been the first ship ever to land here. The company would be
good...but what could anyone possibly want here?
Little Mira set while he was skimming back. A flash of white at the far edge of the sea, and the tiny blue-
white dwarf was gone. The shadows changed abruptly, turning the world red. Mann took off his pink-tinged
goggles. Big Mira was still high, sixty degrees above the horizon and two hours from second sunset.
The newcomer was huge, a thick blunt-nosed cylinder twenty times the size of the Explorer. It looked old:
not damaged, not even weathered, but indefinably old. Its nose was still closed tight, the living bubble retracted, if
indeed it had a living bubble. Nothing moved nearby. They must be waiting for his welcome before they debarked.
Mann dropped toward the newcomer.
The stunner took him a few hundred feet up. Without pain and without sound, suddenly all Mann's muscles
turned to loose jelly. Fully conscious and completely helpless, he continued to dive toward the ground.
Three figures swarmed up at him from the newcomer's oversized airlock. They caught him before he hit.
Tossing humorous remarks at each other in a language Mann did not know, they towed him down to the plain.

The man behind the desk wore a captain's hat and a cheerful smile. "Our supply of Verinol is limited," he
said in the trade language. "If I have to use it, I will, but I'd rather save it. You may have heard that it has unpleasant
side effects."
"I understand perfectly," said Mann. "You'll use it the moment you think you've caught me in a lie." Since
he had not yet been injected with the stuff, he decided it was a bluff. The man had no Verinol, if indeed there was
such an animal as Verinol.
But he was still in a bad hole. The ancient, renovated ship held more than a dozen men, whereas Mann
seriously doubted if he could have stood up. The sonic had not entirely worn off.
His captor nodded approvingly. He was huge and square, almost a cartoon of a heavy-planet man, with
muscularity as smooth and solid as an elephant's. A Jinxian, for anyone's money. His size made the tiny shipboard
office seem little more than a coffin. Among the crew his captain's hat would not be needed to enforce orders. He
looked like he could kick holes in hullmetal, or teach tact to an armed Kzin.
"You're quick," he said. "That's good. I'll be asking questions about you and about this planet. You'll give
truthful, complete answers. If some of my questions get too personal, say so; but remember, I'll use the Verinol if I'm
not satisfied. How old are you?"
"One hundred and fifty-four."
"You look much older."
"I was off boosterspice for a couple of decades."
"Tough luck. Planet of origin?"
"Wunderland."
"Thought so, with that stick-figure build. Name?"
"Doctor Richard Harvey Schultz-Mann."
"Rich Mann, hah? Are you?"