"Andre Norton - Dipple 2 - Janus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

Naill Renfro realized that demand was barked in his direction. His head was still light, his stomach
upset by the concoction they had poured into him. He struggled to make a sensible answer.
"I don't know--"
"You don't know?" Kosburg echoed. "What sort of an empty head is this one, that he does not even
know how many years he has? I have heard much foolishness spoken here by off-worlders, but this is
above all."
"He speaks the truth. According to the records, garthmaster, he was space-born--planet years do
not govern such."
Kosburg's beard rippled as if he chewed his words before spitting them out. "Space-born--so . . .
Well, he looks young enough to learn how to work with his hands. Him I will take, also. These are all
full-time men?"
The cargomaster grinned. "For such a run--to Janus--would we waste space on less? You have the
bark ready for loading, garthmaster?"
"I have the bark. We shall put it in the loading area. To be on the road quickly, that is necessary
when one travels to the Fringe. You--before me--march! There is unloading to be done--though by the
looks of you, not much will pass by your muscles this day."
The spaceport of Janus was a cluster of prefabs about the scorched apron of the landing field, having
the strangely temporary look of a rootless place, ugly with the sterile starkness of the Dipple. Urged by a
continuous rumble of orders, the laborers hurried to a line of carts. Their cargoes, unwieldy bundles of
silvery bark, were being transferred by hand to growing stacks carefully inspected by a ship's tally-man.
"This--goes there." Kosburg's simple instructions were made with waves of his hand indicating
certain carts and the bark piles. Naill looked up at the man standing in the nearest wagon, balancing a roll
of bark to hand down.
He was a younger edition of Kosburg. There was no mistaking they were father and son. The beard
sprouting on his square thrust of chin was still silky, and the lips visible above it pouted. Like his father, he
was dressed in heavy, ill-fitting gray clothing. In fact all the men working along that line of rapidly
emptying wagons presented a uniformity of drabness that was like some army or service garb.
But Naill had little chance to note that, for the bundle of bark slid toward him and he had just time to
catch it. The stuff was lighter than it looked, though the size of the roll made it awkward to manage. He
got it to the stack safely in spite of the unsteadiness of his feet.
Three such journeys brought him back to an empty cart. And he stood still, with a chance to look
about him.
Two heavy-shouldered, snorting beasts were harnessed to each of the wagons. Broad flat hind feet
and haunches were out of proportion to their slim front legs, which ended in paws not unlike his own
hands. They sat back on those haunches while, with the hand paws, they industriously scratched in the
hairy fur on their bellies. In color they were a slaty blue with manes of black--a dusty black--beginning
on their rounded, rodentlike skulls, and running down to the point end of their spines. They had no
vestige of tail. Wide collars about their shoulders were fastened in turn to the tongue of the cart by a web
of harness, but Naill could see no control reins.
"In!" Kosburg's hairy hand swept past his nose. And Naill climbed into the now empty wagon.
He settled down on a pile of rough sacking, which still gave forth the not unpleasant odor of the bark.
Two of his fellow immigrants followed him, and the back of the cart was locked into place by the
garthmaster.
The son, who had not uttered a word during the unloading, occupied the single raised seat at the front
of the wagon. Now he raised a pole to rap smartly in turn the two harnessed scratchers. They
complained in loud snorts, but moved away from the port strip, their pace between a hop and a walk,
which made the cart progress unevenly in a fashion not comfortable for passengers. One of the men was
promptly and thoroughly sick, only managing to hang over the tailboard in time.
Naill studied his companions dispassionately. One was big, even if he was only a bony skeleton of
the man he must once have been. He had the greenish-brown skin of a former space crewman and the