Timothy Zahn Blackcollar 1 Blackcollar

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"Well, if you're looking for honest opinions, you could try Damon Lathe. He's
right over there," he added, pointing past Caine's ear.
Caine turned and saw a grizzled old man with a bushy beard sitting alone at a
table in the open-air section. He was of average height and build, and Caine
judged his age to be early sixties or older.
"Thanks," he said. "What branch of service was he in?"
John snorted. "He was a blackcollar."
"Really!" Caine said, not trying to keep the interest out of his voice. Laying
a two-mark note on the bar, he picked up his mug and headed toward the old
man's table.
Lathe, lost in contemplation of his mug, didn't look up as Caine approached;
didn't look up, in fact, until Caine cleared his throat. "Mr. Lathe?" he asked
cautiously. "My name's Alain Rienzi. I wonder if I might talk to you for a
moment."
Lathe shrugged and waved toward one of the other chairs. "Why not? Don't get
much else to do.
Don't know you, do I?"
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Caine sat down across the table from him, feeling the clash of experience with
cherished belief.
Lathe was nothing like the youthful, keenly alert blackcollar he had always
envisioned. Too late, he realized he'd forgotten what thirty-five years
without Idunine would do to a man. "No, I've just arrived here. I'm from
Earth."
"A collie, huh?" Lathe nodded. "So how's things back home?"
Caine had expected a negative reaction similar to the barman's. The lack of
one caught him somewhat by surprise. "All right. You were from Earth?"
"Yup. Born and raised in Odense that's in Denmark. Lived there till I joined
up with the blackcollars in 2420. Haven't been back for a few years the war,
you know. I'm a blackcollar did you know that?" He spread open the neck of his
faded shirt and tapped the snug-fitting black turtleneck he wore underneath.
"It's real flexarmor the sort of stuff we all used to wear." Letting his hand
drop back to the table, he sighed, watery eyes gazing backwards in time. "Yes,
those were the days," he murmured. "They're gone now. All gone."
Caine nodded silently, feeling as awkward as if he'd stumbled into a private
wake. Whatever Lathe might have once had the Ryqril and the passing years had
stripped from him, leaving a useless wreck behind. Gathering his feet under
him, Caine was preparing to make a graceful exit when Lathe's eyes came back
to focus. "What'd you want to talk to me about, Mr. ?"
"Rienzi," Caine supplied. "I've been looking for some of the old military men
on Plinry, to talk about
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The Blackcollar a book I'm writing. Would you know where any of them might
be?"
"Oh, sure. We blackcollars get together and talk all the time. About the war,"
he added in a thoughtful voice, fingering the ring he wore on the middle
finger of his right hand.
Caine had already noticed the ring. Made of a heavy-looking silvery metal, it
was shaped like the head of a reptile of some sort. A wide, batwing-like crest
rose from the back of the head, curving smoothly over Lathe's knuckle. For
eyes the reptile sported two bright red gems.
"Like it?" Lathe asked, raising his hand so Caine could see it better. The
hand itself, Caine noted, looked strong, despite its wrinkled skin.
"Yes, I do. I've never seen a ring like it."
"Not surprised," Lathe mused. "The Carno fan-dragon was our symbol. Fast
little devils; good hunters, too. Only blackcollars were allowed to wear these
dragonheads." He snorted. "No one wears them any more. The collies don't like
to see them, and the Ryqril hate them. But I wear mine." He looked up
suddenly, gazing intently at Caine. "All the way from Earth, eh? Must be an
important book."
"Well... it's important to me."
Lathe nodded as if he found that perfectly reasonable. "Yep. Well, I'd be
happy to help you, son Mr. Rienzi. But... my memory isn't as good as it once
was." He touched the red eyes on his dragonhead gently. "I used to be a
comsquare commando commander, to you. Did you know that?
Yep. Comsquare Lathe, in charge of eleven other blackcollars best damn
fighting squad in the galaxy." He shook his head and sighed. "Now it's just
me."
"Your men are all dead?" Caine asked after a moment.
Lathe nodded. He stroked the ring once more, then looked up again. "But that's
the past. What can I
do for you oh, that's right, you wanted to talk to the other blackcollars.
Shouldn't be too hard "
He broke off and craned his neck. "Matter of fact, here comes one now. Hey,
Skyler! Come here a sec!"
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Caine turned to see a tall, generously built man striding down the walkway
toward them. He seemed to hesitate when he saw Lathe wasn't alone, but with a
slight pursing of lips he came over to the table. "Hello, Lathe," he said. His
voice was firm and steady, with just a hint of good humor hidden underneath.
"Who's your friend?"
"Fellow from Earth name's Rienzi. This is Rafe Skyler, son good pal of mine."
Caine nodded. "Pleased to meet you."
"Earth, huh?" Skyler studied Caine coolly. "Aren't you a bit out of your [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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