Rage - Smith Wilbur (читать книги онлайн без сокращений .TXT) 📗
'Do it for me, please Shasa,' she said, and handed him the urn.
Shasa opened it and stepped out of the lee of the rock, into the full force of the south-easter. The wind fluttered his shirt like a trapped bird, and he turned to look back at her.
Centaine nodded encouragement, and he held the urn high and upended it. The ashes streamed away like dust in the wind, and when the urn was empty, Shasa turned to her once more.
'Break it!" she commanded, and he hurled the vessel against the rock face. It shattered, and she gasped and swayed on her feet.
Shasa ran to her and held her in his arms.
'Death is the only adversary I know I shall never overcome.
Perhaps that is why I hate it so,' she whispered.
He led her to her seat on the rock and they were silent for a long while, staring out over the wind-speckled Atlantic and then Centaine said, 'I know you have been protecting me. Now tell me about Tara.
What was her part in this?" So he told her, and when he finished Centaine said, 'You have made yourself an accessory to murder. Was it worth it?" 'Yes. I think so,' he answered without hesitation. 'Could any of us have survived her trial if I had allowed her to be arrested and charged?" 'Will there be consequences?" Shasa shook his head. 'Maned - he will protect us again. Just as he did with Sean." Shasa saw her pain at the mention of Sean's name. Like him she had never recovered from it, but now she said quietly, 'Sean was one thing, but this is murder and treason and attempting to assassinate a head of state. It is fostering bloody revolution and attempting by force to overthrow a government. Can Manfred protect us from that?
And if he can, why should he?" I don't know the answers to that, Mater." Shasa looked at her searchingly. 'I thought that perhaps you did." 'What do you mean?" she asked, and he thought that he might have taken her unawares, for there was fear and confusion in her eyes for an instant. Blaine's death had slowed her and weakened her.
Before that, she would never have betrayed herself so readily.
'In protecting us, me in particular, Manfred is protecting himself and his political ambitions,' Shasa reasoned it out carefully. 'For if I am destroyed, then - I am his protbgd - his own career would be blighted. But there is more than that. More than I can fathom." Centaine did not reply, but she turned her head away and looked out to sea.
'It's as though Manfred De La Rey feels some strange loyalty to us, or a debt that he must repay - or even a' sense of deep guilt towards our fmily. Is that possible, Mater? Is there something that I do not know of that would put him under an obligation to us?
Have you withheld something from me all these years?" He watched her struggle with herself, and at one moment it seemed she might burst out with some long-hidden truth, or with a terrible secret that she had carried too long alone. Then he saw her expression firm and it was almost possible to watch the strength and force which had been drained from her since Blaine's death flow back into her.
It was a little miracle. Age seemed to fall away from her. Her eyes brightened and her carriage of head and shoulders was once more erect and perky. Even the lines and creases around her eyes and mouth seemed to smooth away.
'What ever gave you that idea?" she asked crisply, and stood up.
Tve been moping and pining far too long. Blaine would never have approved of that." She took Shasa's arm. 'Come along. I've still got a life to live and work to do." Half-way down the hill, she asked suddenly, 'When does the trial of Moses Gama begin?" 'The tenth of next month." 'Do you know he once worked for us, this Moses Gama?" 'Yes, Mater. I remembered him. That was how I was able to sto him." He was a terrible troublemaker even in those days. We must d all we can to enstlre that he pays the extreme penalty. That is th least we can do for Blaine's memory." 'I don't understand why you are saddling me with this little scrubber, Desmond Blake protested acidly. He had been twenty-two years on th.
newspaper and before the gin bottle had taken over, he had been th.
best courtroom and political journalist on the staff of the Golde City Mail. The quantities of gin which he absorbed had not onl placed a ceiling on his career but had greyed and prematurely line his face, ruined his liver and soured his disposition without, how.
ever, clouding his insight into the criminal mind nor spoiling hi political acumen.
'Well, he is a bright lad,' his editor explained reasonably.
'This is the biggest, most sensational trial of our century,' Desmond Blake said, 'and you want me to drag a cub reporter with me, a puking infant who couldn't even cover a local flower show or a mayoral tea party." 'I think he has a lot of potential - I just want you to take him in hand and show him the ropes." 'Bullshit!" said Desmond Blake. 'Now tell me the real reason." 'All right." The editor showed his exasperation. 'The real reason is that his grandmother is Centaine Courtney and his father is Shasa Courtney, and Courtney Mining and Finance have acquired thirty-five percent of the shareholding of our parent company over the past months, and if you know nothing else you should know that nobody bucks Centaine Courtney, not if they want to remain in business. Now take the kid with you and stop bitciting. I haven't got time to argue any more - I've got a paper to get out." Desmond Blake threw up both hands in despair, and as he rose to leave the office his editor added one last unsubtle threat.
'Just look at it this way, Des. It will be good job insurance, especially for an aging newshound who needs the price of a bottle of gin a day. Just think of the kid as the boss's son." Desmond wandered lugubriously down the length of the city room.
He knew the boy by sight. Somebody had pointed him out as a sprig of the Courtney empire and wondered aloud what the hell he was doing here instead of on the polo field.
Desmond stopped beside the corner desk which Michael was sharing with two other juniors.
'Your name is Michael Courtney?" he asked, and the boy leapt to his feet.
'Yes, sir." Michael was overcome at being directly addressed by somebody who had his own column and by-line.
'Shit!" said Desmond bitterly. 'Nothing is more depressing than the shining face of youth and enthusiasm. Come along, boy." 'Where are we going?" Michael snatched up his jacket eagerly.
'To the George, boy. I need a double to give me the strength to go through with this little lark." At the bar of the George, he studied Michael over the rim of his glass.
'Your first lesson, boy --' he took a swallow of gin and tonic.
'Nothing is ever what it seems to be. Nobody is ever what he says he is. Engrave that on your heart. Your second lesson. Stick to your orange juice. They don't call this stuff mother's ruin for nothing.
Your third lesson. Always pay for the drinks with a smile." He took another swig. 'So you are from Cape Town, are you? Well that's just fine, because that is where we are going, you and me. We are going to see a man condemned to die." Vicky Gama took the bus from Baragwanath Hospital to Drake's Farm. It went 0my as far as the administration building and the new government school. She had to walk the last mile through the narrow dusty lanes between the rows of raw brick cottages. She walked slowly, for although her pregnancy was only four months advanced, she was beginning to tire easily.
Hendrick Tabaka was in the crowded general dealer's shop, watching the tills, but he came to Vicky immediately and she greeted him with the respect due to her husband's eldest brother. He led her through to his of.rice, and called for one of his sons to bring her a comfortable chair.
