"Mack Reynolds - North Africa 01 - Blackman's Burden" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

Elmer Allen muttered a bitter four-letter obscenity. He had once headed
a pacifist group at the University in Kingston, Jamaica. Now his teeth
were bared, as they always were when he went into action. He hated it.

Of them all, Bey-ag-Akhamouk was the least moved by the slaughter. He
grumbled, "Guns, explosives, mortar, flame throwers. If there is anything
in the world my people don't need in the way of aid, it's weapons."

"Our people," Homer Crawford said absently, his eyes—taking in the
scene beneath them—empty, as though unseeing. He hated the need for
killing, almost as badly as did Elmer Allen.

Bey looked at him, scowling slightly, but said nothing. There had been
mild rebuke in his leader's voice.

"Well," Abe Bakr said with a tone of mock finality in his voice, as
though he was personally wiping his hands of the whole affair, "how are
you going to explain all this jazz to headquarters, man?"

Homer said flatly, "We were attacked by this unidentified group of, ah,
gun runners, from some unknown origin. We defended ourselves, to the
best of our ability."

Elmer Allen looked at the once human mess below them. "We certainly
did," he muttered, scowling.

"Crazy, man," Abe said, nodding his agreement to the alibi.

The others didn't bother to speak. Homer Crawford's unit was well knit.
 He said after a moment, "Abe, you and Kenny get some dynamite and
plant it in this wadi wall in a few spots. We'll want to bury this whole
mess. It wouldn't do for someone to come along and blow himself up on
some of these scattered land mines, or find himself a bazooka or
something to use on his nearest blood-feud neighbor."




II


The young woman known as Izubahil was washing clothes in the Niger
with the rest but slightly on the outskirts of the chattering group of
women, which was fitting since she was both a comparative stranger and
as yet unselected by any man to grace his household. Which, in a way, was
passingly strange since she was comely enough. Clad as the rest with
naught but a wrap of colored cloth about her hips, her face and figure
were openly to be seen. Her complexion was not quite so dark as most. She
came from upriver, so she said, the area of the Songhoi, but by the looks of
her there was more than average Arab or Berber blood in her veins. Her