"Allston, Aaron - Doc Sidhe 01 - Doc Sidhe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Allston Aaron)

Alastair shook his head. УThere are a lot of redcaps out there, Jean-Pierre. And a lot of hooligans from the Powrie clans.Ф
УMaybe.Ф Jean-Pierre dug around in a jacket pocket and brought out his own wallet. He flipped it open, pulled free a piece of cardstock and shoved it at Harris.
It was a black-and-white photograph, blurry and grainy; it looked like a police photo. The man in it was a little younger than the one whoТd chased Harris earlier, but recognizable. Harris nodded. УThatТs him.Ф
Jean-Pierre took the photograph back and looked numbly at it. УWhat have you been doing all these years, Angus?Ф
УMind telling me why you carry his picture around?Ф
Jean-Pierre ignored the question. He retreated to his chair and sat, still looking dazed. He fingered the bruise on his jaw. УKick-boxing, eh?Ф
УYeah. ItТs the professional form of a whole bunch of martial arts.Ф
УWell, I certainly feel as though IТve been kick-boxed. Noriko, I know some of the people of Wo and their descendants in the New World fight like that.Ф
Noriko nodded. УNot so much Wo, but Silla and Shanga. I do not think I have ever met a westerner trained in the arts.Ф
Alastair said, УThereТs more to him than that. HeТs got an aura. All-asparkle. I see it with my good eye. But itТs not like anything IТve ever seen before. IТd love to test his Firbolg Valence.Ф
Harris sighed. УIt sounds to me like nothing I said means a thing to you. Jesus.Ф
УTo speak the truth, it doesnТt,Ф said Noriko. УExcept one thing. Are you of the Carpenter Cult?Ф
УThe what?Ф
УI have heard you invoke the Carpenter twice. Once just now.Ф
УWho the hell is the Carpenter?Ф Then Harris had a sudden suspicion. УWait a minute. Jesus Christ.Ф
УYes. Though his followers hesitate to name him as . . . freely as you do.Ф
УOh.Ф Harris had to think about it. УNo, I guess IТm not. IТm not anything that way. My parents are, though. Of the СCarpenter CultТ.Ф He sat back frowning as it came home to him that one of the worldТs largest religions had suddenly been reduced to the status of cult. But there was a little comfort to that, as well. Noriko had heard of something he knew about. One lonely point in common.
The other three looked helplessly among themselves. Alastair said, УI think we need Doc.Ф
УWhoТs Doc? I thought you were a doctor.Ф
Alastair beamed. УI am. But IТm not Doc. Doc is Doc. And Doc is due . . . Ф He reached inelegantly under his shirt and pulled out a large pocket watch. УTwo chimes ago. Late, as ever.Ф
УSo this Doc can get me figured out?Ф
Jean-Pierre shrugged. УIf anyone can. HeТs a deviser, you know.Ф
УAh. Well, that explains everything, doesnТt it?Ф Harris shook his head dubiously . . . and caught sight of what was tacked up on the wall behind him: a map. A map with the recognizable outlines of the continents.
He read some of the names printed there . . . and suddenly found himself standing on his sofa, both palms pressed against the map as he stared disbelievingly at it.
There was Manhattan, but the name Neckerdam was printed next to it, and some of the other boroughs were colored more like park than city. And New York State wasnТt outlined with familiar borders. Its boundaries reaching about as far north as Albany should be, and much farther south, to the Philadelphia area (УNyraxФ); the whole area was labelled Novimagos.
Farther north, Nova Scotia and some of whatever province was next to itЧNew Brunswick? Harris couldnТt rememberЧwere labelled Acadia. To the south, much of Central America was labelled Mejicalia, a name that at least looked a little familiar, but few borders were drawn in that area of the map. Southeast of Mejicalia, what was Aluxia?
Things were no better in Europe. Most of central Spain was taken up by Castilia, a name Harris thought he remembered from school. All of England and Ireland were labelled Cretanis. These nations were further broken up into hundreds more small territories with names he didnТt know. So was all the rest of Europe.
There was no sign of Hawaii, or most of the islands of the South Pacific, just the words УMany IslandsФ and a picture of a sea serpent.
Harris turned away from the map, feeling faint and not entirely able to accept what heТd just seen. He sank back down to sit on the sofa, feeling the gaze of the others on him, and didnТt bother to ask them if that thing on the wall were a joke.

Nearly a thousand feet below, a dozen men entered the lobby of the Monarch Building. They paid no attention to the doorman who admitted them, to the veined white marble walls and reflective black marble floor, to the bustle of people moving in and out of the building even at this late hour. With the nonchalance of office workers familiar with the building, they moved straight to the elevators and boarded the first available car.
But they werenТt office workers. The green-uniformed elevator operator took a look at the large instrument cases they carried, at the cheap red suits they wore, and sighed. Musicians. Rowdy musicians with their bad tips. Still, he adjusted his cap and put on his most professional face, and as the band entered his car he said, УFloor, goodsirs.Ф
The smallest of the musicians, the one who stood right by the door with the trumpet case in his hands, smiled winningly at him. УRoof.Ф
УIТm sorry, this car only goes up eighty-nine. The remaining floors are private property.Ф
The trumpeter frowned. УPrivate? We have an engagement on the roof. A wedding.Ф
The elevator operator tried not to look as confused as he was. УI donТt think so, sir. ThereТs no place up there to have a wedding. A talk-box reception tower and some machinery, I think.Ф
УThen whatТs that black thing on your uniform?Ф
The uniformed man looked down at his front and finally showed confusion. УSir, thereТs nothingЧФ
He did not see the other musician wield the blackjack. He did feel blinding pain as the lead shot-filled weapon rapped down on his uniform cap, and that was the last he knew. His legs gave way and he thudded onto the carpeted floor of the elevator car.
The trumpeter tipped his hat at the unconscious elevator operator, then nodded at the sap-wielder. УNow. Take us up.Ф
The big man pocketed the sap. He took the carТs control handle. УHe was telling the truth. You know whose building this is.Ф
УYes.Ф
УSo this car wonТt go up past up eighty-nine. You know he has to be higher than that.Ф
УYes. Take us up eighty-nine.Ф The trumpeter smiled and patted his instrument case. УEverything we need is in here. Trust me. Trust him.Ф
The big man grimaced, then set the car into motion.

Chapter Six
Noriko tilted her head to the side, concentrating. УRotorkite,Ф she announced. УDoc is here.Ф
The others listened. At first Harris could hear nothing but a constant, dull wash of noiseЧthe faint remnants of street sound from a thousand feet below. Then he caught the sound that had alerted Noriko: a faint thup-thup-thup that began to grow louder. It sounded just like an incoming helicopter.
Noriko and Jean-Pierre were up in an instant, headed out through the nearest door in the wall; Harris and then Alastair followed. The door nearest the sofas opened into a dim, carpeted corridor, and Noriko and Jean-Pierre led the way to a nearby bank of elevators.