"Adams, Douglas -- So Long and Thanks for All The Fish (4)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Adams Douglas)The air was stifling, but he liked it because it was stifling
city air, full of excitingly unpleasant smells, dangerous music and the sound of warring police tribes. He carried his satchel with an easy swaying motion so that he could get a good swing at anybody who tried to take it from him without asking. It contained everything he owned, which at the moment wasn't much. A limousine careered down the street, dodging between the piles of burning garbage, and frightening an old pack animal which lurched, screeching, out of its way, stumbled against the window of a herbal remedies shop, set off a wailing alarm, blundered off down the street, and then pretended to fall down the steps of a small pasta restaurant where it knew it would get photographed and fed. Ford was walking north. He thought he was probably on his way to the spaceport, but he had thought that before. He knew he was going through that part of the city where people's plans often changed quite abruptly. "Do you want to have a good time?" said a voice from a doorway. "As far as I can tell," said Ford, "I'm having one. Thanks." "Are you rich?" said another. This made Ford laugh. He turned and opened his arms in a wide gesture. "Do I look rich?" he said. "Don't know," said the girl. "Maybe, maybe not. Maybe you'll get rich. I have a very special service for rich people ..." "Oh yes?" said Ford, intrigued but careful. "And what's that?" "I tell them it's OK to be rich." Gunfire erupted from a window high above them, but it was only a bass player getting shot for playing the wrong riff three times in a row, and bass players are two a penny in Han Dold City. Ford stopped and peered into the dark doorway. "You what?" he said. The girl laughed and stepped forward a little out of the shadow. She was tall, and had that kind of self-possessed shyness which |
|
|