"Eric Frank Russell - Basic Right" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Eric Frank)

at once. "They," who are "they"? Another Raidan expedition that had discovered this hide-out of
renegades? Unknown and unsuspected Terran allies at long last come to the rescue? Mutineers led by
Lakin? Who?
He rounded a corner so fast that he gave himself no chance to escape three armed Terrans charging
along the corridor. They grabbed him even as he skidded to a stop. This trio were big, brawny,
tough-looking, wore steel helmets, were smothered in equipment and bore automatic guns.
"What is meant by this?" shouted Zalumar. "Do you realize—"
"Shut up!" ordered the largest of the three.
"Somebody will pay for—"
"I said to shut up!" He swung a big hand, slapped Zalumar with force that rattled his teeth and left him
dazed. "See if he's clean, Milt."
One of the others ran expert hands over Zalumar's person. "Nothing on him, not even a loaded
sock."
 "O.K. Toss him in that small room. You stand guard, Milt. Beat his ears off if he gets uppish."
With that, two of them hustled around the corner, guns held ready. Twenty more similarly armed
Terrans appeared and chased after the first two, none of them bothering to give the captive a glance in
passing. Milt opened a door, shoved Zalumar's shoulder.
"Get inside."
"To whom do you think you're—"
Milt swung a heavy, steel-tipped boot at the other's tail and roared, "Get inside when you're told!"
Zalumar got in. The small room held a long, narrow table and eight chairs. He flopped into the
nearest chair and glowered at Milt who leaned casually against the wall by the door. A minute later
someone opened the door and slung Lakin, through. Lakin had a badly discolored face and a thin trickle
of blood along the jawline.
"Arnikoj is dead," said Lakin. "Also Dremith and Vasht and Marjamian and half the palace guard."
He touched his features tenderly. "I suppose I'm lucky. They only beat me up."
"They will pay dearly for this," promised Zalumar. He studied the other curiously. "I suspected you of
disloyalty to me. It seems that I was wrong."
"One can foresee trouble without having to take part in it. I've known for long enough that Heisham
was brewing something. It was obvious that sooner or later—"
"Heisham?"
"Yes. His term of service ended two years ago—and he was still here. He is not the kind to sit
around and do nothing about it. So he waited his chance."
"What chance?"
"We maintain a permanent ships' guard of eighty men. Everyone serves in rotation. Heisham needed
only to hide his time until he and a bunch of sympathizers were selected for guard duty. The ships would
then be his to do with as he pleased."
"That would be of no use. He couldn't take away ten cruisers with a mere eighty men."
"He could make off with two ships, each with a skeleton crew of forty," said Lakin.
"The fellow is stark, staring mad," declaimed Zalumar. "Immediately he shows his face on Raidan, he
and all those with him will have to undergo interrogation, with torture if necessary. And when they've
given up every item of information they'll be executed as traitors."
"Heisham doesn't think so," Lakin responded. "He is going to put all the blame on you. He's going to
tell them that you prohibited the sending of a report because you wanted all the spoils and the glory for
yourself."
"They won't take his unsupported word for that."
"There are eighty men with him and they'll all say the same. They've got to—they're in the same jam.
Besides, he has persuaded the Terrans to confirm his story. When a Raidan commission arrives to check
up the Terrans will give evidence in Heisham's favor. He's quite confident that this tactic will not only save
his life but also gain him honor."