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Slinger. It was nothing at all for the total assets of a whole community.
"This is our chance to get out from under," Rhoda was saying. She wasn't
talking to me. "We can squeeze the goddam corporation people for a change. All
we need is that charter and we've got
Westinghouse and the Arabs where we want them!"
Everybody in the bar was shouting now. It looked ugly, and I didn't see any
way out.
"OK," I told Rhoda. "Sign over that deposit certificate, and make me out a
lien on future assets for the rest. I'll boost your cargo-"
"Boost hell, sign that charter contract," Rhoda said.
"Yeah, I'll do that too. Make out the documents."
"Captain Kephart, is this wise?" Dalquist asked.
"Keep out of this, you little son of a bitch." Horny moved toward Dalquist,
"You got no stake in this. Now shut up before I take off the top-"
Dalquist hardly looked up. "Five hundred francs to the first man who coldcocks
him," he said carefully. He took his hand out of his pouch, and there was a
bill in it.
There was a moment's silence, then four big miners started for Horny.
When it was over, Dalquist was out a thousand, because nobody could decide who
got to Hornbinder first.
Even Rhoda was laughing after that was over. The mood changed a little;
Hornbinder had never been very popular, and Dalquist was buying for the house.
It didn't make any difference about the rest of it, of course. They weren't
going to let me off Jefferson without signing that charter contract.
Rhoda sent over to city hall to have the documents made out. When they came, I
signed, and half the people in the place signed as witnesses. Dalquist didn't
like it, but he ended up as a witness too. For better or worse, Slingshot was
chartered to the Jefferson Corporation for seven hundred hours.
The surprise came after I'd signed. I asked Rhoda when she'd be ready to
boost.
"Don't worry about it. You'll get the capsule when you need it."
"Bloody hell! You can't wait to get me to sign-"
"Aww, just relax, Kephart."
"I don't think you understand. You have half a million tons to boost up to
what, five, six kilometers a second?" I took out my pocket calculator.
"Sixteen tons of deuterium and eleven thousand reaction mass. That's a bloody
big load. The fuel feed system's got to be built. It's not something I can
just strap on and push off-"
"You'll get what you need," Rhoda said. "We'll let you know when it's time to
start work."
Jed put us in a private dining room. Janet came in later and I told her about
the afternoon. I
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didn't think she'd like it, but she wasn't as upset as I was.
"We have the money," she said. "And we got a good price on the cargo, and if
they ever pay off we'll get more than we expected on the boost charges. If
they don't pay up-well, so what?"
"Except that we've got a couple of major companies unhappy, and they'll be
here long after
Jefferson folds up. Sorry, Jed, but-"
He bristled his mustache. "Could be. I figure on gettin' along with the
corporations too. Just in case."
"But what did all that lot mean?" Dalquist asked.
"Beats me." Jed shook his head. "Rhoda's been making noises about how rich
we're going to be. New furnace, another power plant, maybe even a ship of our
own. Nobody knows how she's planning on doing it."
"Could there have been a big strike?" Dalquist asked. "Iridiurn, one of the
really valuable metals?"
"Don't see how," Jed told him. "Look, mister, if Rhoda's goin' to bail this
place out of the hole the big boys have dug for us, that's great with me. I
don't ask questions."
Jed's boy came in. "There's a lady to see you."
Barbara Morrison Colella was a small blonde girl, pug nose, blue eyes. She
looks like somebody
file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Jerry%20Pournelle%20-%20High%20Justi
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ce.txt you'd see on Earthside TV playing a dumb blonde.
Her degrees said "family economics," which I guess on Earth doesn't amount to
much. Out here it's a specialty. To keep a family going out here you better
know a lot of environment and life-support engineering, something about prices
that depend on orbits and launch windows, a lot about how to get something to
eat out of rocks, and maybe something about power systems, too.
She was glad enough to see us, especially Janet, but we got another surprise.
She looked at
Dalquist and said, "Hello, Buck."
"Hello. Surprised, Bobby?"
"No. I knew you'd be along as soon as you heard."
"You know each other, then," I said.
"Yes." Dalquist hadn't moved, but he didn't look like a little man any longer.
"How did it happen, Bobby?"
Her face didn't change. She'd lost most of her smile when she saw Dalquist.
She looked at the rest of us, and pointed at Jed. "Ask him. He knows more than
I do."
"Mr. Anderson?" Dalquist prompted. His tone made it sound as if he'd done this
before, and he expected to be answered.
If Jed resented that, he didn't show it. "Simple enough. Joe always seemed
happy enough when he came in here after his shift-"
Dalquist looked from Jed to Barbara. She nodded.
"-until the last time. That night he got stinking drunk. Kept mutterin'
something about 'Not that way. There's got to be another way.'"
"Do you know what that meant?"
"No," Jed said. "But he kept saying it. Then he got really stinking and I sent
him home with a couple of the guys he worked with."
"What happened when he got home?" Dalquist asked.
"He never came home, Buck," Barbara said. "I got worried about him, but I
couldn't find him. The men he'd left here with said he'd got to feeling better
and left them-"
"Damn fools," Jed muttered. "He was right out of it. Nobody should go outside
with that much to drink."
"And they found him outside?"
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"At the refinery. Helmet busted open. Been dead five, six hours. Held the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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