[The Girl From UNCLE 03] - The Golden Boats of Taradata Affair - Latter Simon (книги читать бесплатно без регистрации полные TXT) 📗

Here are the feet also of Manuel Palaga, the pirate founder of Palaga, whose steel and stone figure rises two hundred feet from the top of Climb Sublime. By taxi it costs two hundred dollars to reach the observation gardens around these precious feet. Another two hundred dollars to travel in the lift to the terraces upon his shoulders. All the taxis are owned by families bearing the Palaga name. No private cars are allowed.

It is more expensive by hearse. The heels of Manuel Palaga house the crematorium. The cheapest ride costs five thousand dollars. But the send-off is terrific. They say there are things in the head of Manuel Palaga. Things that whirr and whine and click, and at night the eyes glow and tiny sparks of blue lightning dance a halo around the pirate's head.

Across the plinth of this massive monument to piracy, a plinth the size of a city square, in great gold letters is the motto of the House of Palaga — a free translation of which is: "Time was and is."

Many have conjectured as to its true meaning, for the words themselves do not make much sense unless put into some related context. But the present heads of the Palaga family — quiet-living, enormously rich, and as poker-faced as any of their croupiers in the island's many gambling casinos — merely smile, shrug their elegantly garbed shoulders and build another vault in the bowels of the mountain behind the city to hold the millions of currency pouring into their coffers from visitors from the outside world.

There is no income tax on Palaga — nor does their language contain the word tax — no civil servants. All public utilities are owned by a branch of the Palaga family. It seems they have evolved the ideal way of governing without government, so platoons of non-productive, graft-ridden compilers of forms, licenses, permits and other bunff which choke the arteries of other nations do not exist on Palaga.

The children are educated primarily in small classes, and all those bearing the name Palaga are sent to leading schools in America, Europe, Russia, China and India. Families of non-Palaga names and descent are subjected to birth control of an unusual nature. If they produce more than two children, the whole family is immediately "exported" to any country they may choose and given sufficient capital to make them welcome there. Likewise, any non-Palaganian over the age of sixty is "exported" as a pensioner to the West Indies or the Bahamas or even to Florida, indeed, to any place they like, and their generous pension makes them welcome anywhere.

Thus there is no over-population, and any under-population threat is swiftly dealt with by the virile Palagas whose otherwise illegitimate children are given their name, the mother given the choice of being sterilized and having a good life on the island or becoming an "export".

There are many other facets of Palaganian society which may seem strange — even barbarous — to the outsider. But all of these, if assessed calmly, can be seen to be very similar to the type of society originally maintained by the pirate Manuel Palaga.

All who enter the several harbours of Palaga have had to pay a fee before setting sail from their home port. Chance callers are stopped by gunboats which constantly patrol Palaga waters. Not only a pirate policy but also a highwayman policy of "Stand and deliver" is strictly enforced.

There are many other islands within a few days' sailing. Most of these do not have airports, and the helicopter is not encouraged on Palaga which, due to its strategic position, is a main supplier to all the other islands up to two hundred miles distant. Some small cargo-passenger boats are allowed to use the trade harbours — on the other side of the island from the glorious flame-coral harbour and bay below Palaga City — for reasons which suit the Palagas as a family but which are not disclosed to outsiders. Ships carrying the Palaganian flag of convenience are not encouraged to clutter up the Palaganian ports.

The pleasure-seeking visitor to Palaga, once issued with a visa based upon a cash deposit or the purchase of Palaganian currency, is assured of the best of luxury, attention, courtesy and facility, plus the beauty of a climate unequalled anywhere in the world. Palaga also guarantees the safety of their person and property. No doors need be locked. Purses can be left around on beaches, in bars, clubs and hotels.

Every Palaganian is a self-appointed policeman.

Some international crooks, drooling over thoughts of lush pickings, got themselves a cash stake enabling them to get on the island, and then went to work. All died from various legitimate causes, which were made clear on a Palaganian doctor's certificate, finishing up in the heels of Manuel Palaga. Their bone meal now enriches the fields and vineyards beyond the mountain.

Business visitors have to be sponsored by at least two of the senior family of Palaga, themselves great travellers who go in the guise of trade commissions to arrange imports and other Palaga business. But those who are approved, such as architects, engineers and others of that kind, do their business in such luxury and with such lavish facilities that life back home leaves them dissatisfied for months after their return.

This detailed preamble on Palaga is very necessary because unless one understands at least these facts, one cannot appreciate the island's importance to certain world undercover organizations. Palaga attends to minute detail yet does not concern itself with small matters, small people or small causes. It doesn't want boatloads of retired teachers "doing" the islands on economy cruises, nor itinerate artists seeking local colour or students hiking their way around the world. If any do slip through, they run out of money fast and are thereupon whisked over the mountain and dumped on a cargo boat before they can even send a postcard home. In fact, mail is vetted meticulously by the most modern methods, and as all languages can be understood, owing to the international schooling system, Palaga sees all and knows about what is written in letters to and from the island.

U.N.C.L.E. had to learn all these details, and many more besides, and then relay them to April Dancer, Mark Slate and others, before they dared risk sending these agents to Palaga to probe rumours and disturbing yet apparently unconnected facts which had filtered through to New York headquarters from this part of the world.

It had been tough for April Dancer to reach her present status as an U.N.C.L.E. agent. A long time learning and a time testing and being tested. And, after all that, the realization that each assignment brought its own high-pressure spate of learning. The lessons were endless, the knowledge never really sufficient in a world where knowledge and preparedness ran a perpetual race — each destroying the other so that every new case was a starter on a fresh track.

Only the hidden adversary remained the same — the vast, wealthy and powerful THRUSH organization. Yet its agents were constantly changing, as were its areas of endeavour. Only its aim could be accepted always as unchanged — the aim of world domination by any means whatsoever. So in each case the objective was known. It was the means which had to be discovered, then remorselessly destroyed.

"Palaga, Miss Dancer — you know it?" Mr. Waverly had said.

"I know of it, sir. A lush playground for the wealthy. I've heard it called a paradise — an Eden."

"Quite so. And you, if I may say so, would make an excellent Eve within its exotic boundaries. It is, however, very much more than just a paradise." Mr. Waverly had passed her a thick file. "Read, mark, learn, inwardly digest, then read again and yet again. The file covers not only Palaga but also the islands up to two hundred miles south and east of it. You have twenty hours to become word perfect and to pull in fittings with our costume department, for you will require an extensive wardrobe. Also more money than you have ever before been allocated on one case. A fact that is driving the accounts department into a state of mild apoplexy. Let us reassure them by the brilliance of your assimilated knowledge."