"Mike Resnick - Tales Of The Galactic Midway 03 - The Wild Alien Tamer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

smoke.”
“ You've been complaining about the cigarettes for two years, Thaddeus.”
“ The ship's robots have been making lousy cigarettes for two years,” replied Flint. “ Next year I'll have been
complaining for three years.”
“ Thereis an alternative,” said Tojo softly.
“ You tell me what it is again and you just may get whacked on the side of the head.”
Tojo sighed and remained silent.
“ Did you see that goddamned tombstone?” said Flint at last, lighting up yet another cigarette and coughing
again.
“ Yes,” replied the hunchback. “ I thought it was a very touching gesture.”
“ Monk hated the bear and the bear hated Monk. What's so touching about that?” demanded Flint.
“ I take it the tombstone wasn't your idea?”
“ What do you think?” He paused. “ Where the hellis Clyde Beatty, anyway?”
“ His new animals have been unloaded,” said Tojo. “ I imagine he's with them.”
“ Oh, well,” said Flint with a shrug. “ I saw the robots making up a keg of beer this morning. I suppose I ought
to let it age another half hour, just to be civilized about it. Let's go on over and see what he's picked out this
time.”
They walked down the Midway, past the Skillo games and the Fascination booths and the Three-Card Monte
tables and the Bozo cage, past the Wax Museum and the concession stands, past the specialty tent where
Billybuck Dancer put on his Wild West Show Three Times Nightly, past the makeshift wrestling ring where
the carnival offered 50-Credits-50 to anyone who could stay five minutes with Julius Squeezer, their
green-skinned and slightly reptilian muscleman from far Antares. They went out to the little circle of trailers
and vehicles that were perhaps two hundred yards beyond the various rides, and finally they came to a
training cage, some fifty feet in diameter, around which a number of the carny workers had gathered.
Standing by the door was Jupiter Monk, sweat pouring down from his thinning hair, his huge handlebar
mustache drooping in the heat. The burly animal trainer was dressed all in khaki, and was absently fingering
a small “ popper” whip, designed more to startle than to harm.
Standing directly opposite Monk, on the far side of the cage, was a slender blond man dressed in denim
pants and jacket and wearing a felt Stetson. He stood so motionless that Flint didn't see him at first, and
when at last he did he walked over to him.
“ Riding shotgun?” asked Flint.
“ Yep,” replied Billybuck Dancer.
“ Do me a favor. If there's any trouble and you have to use that thing"— Flint gestured toward the pistol that
the Dancer had tucked in his holster— "shoot Monk.”
The Dancer chuckled. “ I heard about the tombstone. Jupiter said he thought you were going to be a little
upset.”
“ An understatement,” muttered Flint. He turned and looked at the three crates that had been wheeled up to
the cage. “ Why the hell can't he work ‘ em into his act gradually, like any normal person? By my count
you've had to kill five animals so far.”
“ First of all, he ain'tgot no act now that Bruno and the cats are dead,” said the young man in his gentle
Texas drawl. “ And second, he's only got twenty-four hours to approve of the animals or send ‘ em back.
Would you rather cart some animal around that he can't work with?”
“ Just the same, I'm out sixty thousand dollars on dead animals,” said Flint. “ Can't you get the robots to rig
your gun with tranquilizer darts?”
“ Sure,” said the Dancer pleasantly. “ But it'd kill ‘ em anyway. These ain't lions and tigers, Thaddeus.”
Flint was about to reply, thought better of it, and turned his attention to the ring, where one of the crates was
being unloaded. Monk had the robots place it just inside the door. Then, locking the cage again, he pressed
the release on the crate, and a small purple catlike animal bounded out, hissing furiously.
Monk snorted in disgust, walked into the cage, herded the snarling little animal up against the bars, darted a
hand out and picked it up by the scruff of the neck before it could bite or scratch him, and tossed it back into