"Smith, E E Doc - Subspace 01 - Subspace Explorers V2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

is."

"Oh, yeah?" Lopresto sneered. "How come you're only a crew-chief, then?"

"Only a crew-chief!" Newman yelled. "D'ya think I'm dumb or something? Or don't know
where the big moola is at? Or ain't in exactly the right spot to collect right and left? Or I
ain't got exactly the right connections? With Mister Big himself? You ain't that dumb!"

"Dumb or not, before I make a move I've got to be sure that we can get back without
'em."

"You can be damn sure. I got to get back myself, don't I? But paste this in your hat-I get
the big platinum blonde."

"You can have her. Too big. The little yellow-head's my dish."

Newman sneered into Lopresto's hard-held face. "But remember this, you small-time,
chiseling punk. Rub me out after we kill them and you get nowhere. You're dead. Chew
on that awhile and you'll know who's boss."

After just the right amount of holding back and objecting, Lopresto agreed. "You win,
Newman, the way the cards lay. So all that's left is-when? Tomorrow?"

"Not quite. Let 'em finish figuring course, time, distance, turnover-all that stuff. They can
do it a lot faster and some better than I can. I'll tell you when."

"Okay, and I'll give the signal. When I yell NOW we give 'em the business."

Newman went to his cabin and the muscle called Moose said, "I don't like that ape, boss.
Before you gun him, let me work him over a little, huh?"

"We'll let him think he's top dog for a while yet; then you can have him."

A few evenings later, in Lifecraft Two, Barbara said, "You're worried, Babe, and
everything's going so smoothly. Why?"

"Too smoothly altogether. That's why. Newman ought to be doing a slow burn and
goldbricking all he dares, and he isn't. And I wouldn't trust Lopresto as far as I can throw
a brick chimney by its smoke. I smell trouble. Shooting trouble."

"But they couldn't do anything without you two!" Bernice protested. "Could they, Ted,
possibly?"

"They could, and I think they intend to. Being a crew chief, Newman is a jackleg
engineer, a good practical 'troncist, and a rule-of-thumb astrogator, and we're computing
every element of the flight. And if he's what I think he is . . ." Jones paused.

"Could be," Deston said. "One of an organized ring of pirate-smugglers. But there isn't
enough plunder that they could get away with to make it pay."