"Eric Frank Russell - And Then There Were None" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Eric Frank)

“He is a person of considerable importance,” said Bidworthy, unable to decide whether
the other was being funny at his expense or alternatively was what is known as a character.
A good many of these isolated planet-scratchers liked to think of themselves as characters.
“Of considerable importance,” echoed the farmer, narrowing his eyes at the horizon. He
appeared to be trying to grasp an alien concept. After a while, he inquired, “What will
happen to your home world when this person dies?”
“Nothing,” Bidworthy admitted.
“It will roll on as usual?”
“Of course.”
“Then,” declared the farmer, flatly, “he cannot be important.” With that, his little engine
went chuff-chufi and the wheels rolled forward and the plow plowed.




2
 Digging his nails into the palms of his hands, Bidworthy spent half a minute gathering
oxygen before he said, in hoarse tones, “I cannot return without at least a message for His
Excellency.”
“Indeed?” The other was incredulous. “What is to stop you?” Then, noting the alarming
increase in Bidworthy’s color, he added with compassion, “Oh, well, you may tell him that I
said”—he paused while he thought it over—“God bless you and good-by!”
Sergeant Major Bidworthy was a powerful man who weighed two-twenty pounds, had
hopped around the cosmos for twenty years, and feared nothing. He had never been known
to permit the shiver of one hair—but he was trembling all over by the time he got back to
the ship.

His Excellency fastened a cold eye upon him and demanded, “Well?”
“He won’t come.” Bidworthy’s veins stood out on his forehead. “And, sir, if only I could
have him in my field company for a few months I’d straighten him up and teach him to
move at the double.”
“I don’t doubt that, sergeant major,” soothed His Excellency. He continued in a whispered
aside to Colonel Shelton. “He’s a good fellow but no diplomat. Too abrupt and harsh voiced.
Better go yourself and fetch that farmer. We can’t sit here forever waiting to find out where
to begin.”
“Very well, your excellency.” Colonel Shelton trudged across the fields, caught up with the
plow. Smiling pleasantly, he said, “Good morning, my man!”
Stopping his plow, the farmer sighed as if it were another of those days one has
sometimes. His eyes were dark-brown, aimost black, as they looked at the other.
“What makes you think I’m your man?” he inquired.
“It is a figure of speech,” explained Shelton. He could see what was wrong now.
Bidworthy had fallen foul of an irascible type. Two dogs snarling at one another, Shelton
went on, “I was only trying to be courteous.”
“Well,” meditated the farmer, “I reckon that’s something worth trying for.”
Pinking a little, Shelton continued with determination. “I am commanded to request the
pleasure of your company at the ship.”
“Think they’ll get any pleasure out of my company?” asked the other, disconcertingly
bland.
“I’m sure of it,” said Shelton.
“You’re a liar,” said the farmer.