"Alfred Bester - Galatea Galante" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bester Alfred)

"Corque?"
"Cork? As in Ireland?"
"But with a Q U E."
"Corque?" Cor-kew-ee?" Manwright's eyes kindled. "Would you by any chance be related to Charles Russell Corque, Syrtus professor of ETM biology? I'll hold that in your favor."
"Thank you, Dominie. I am Charles Russell Corque, professor of extraterrestrial and mutation biology at Syrtus University."
"What!"
"Yes."
"In that preposterous costume?"
"Alas, yes."
"Here? On Terra?"
"In person."
"What a crazy coincidence. D'you know, I was going to make that damned tedious trip to Mars just to rap with you."
"And I brought my circus to 7Rrra hoping to meet and consult with you."
"How long have you been here?"
"░Iivo days."
"Then why haven't you called?"
"Setting up a circus show takes time, Dominie. I haven't had a moment to spare."
"This monstrous fakery is really yours?"
"It is."
"You? The celebrated Corque? The greatest researcher into alien life forms that science has ever known? Revered by all your colleagues, including myself, and swindling the turkeys with a phony freak show? Incredible. Corque! Unbelievable!"
"But understandable, Manwright. Have you any idea of
the cost of ETM research? And the reluctance of the grants committees to allocate an adequate amount of funds? No, I suppose not. You're in private practice and can charge gigantic fees to support your research, but I'm forced to moonlight and operate this circus to raise the money I need."
"Nonsense, Corque. You could have patented one of your brilliant discoveries-that fantastic Jupiter III methophyte, for instance. Gourmets call it `The Ganymede Truffle.' D'you know what an ounce sells for?"
"I know, and there are discovery rights and royalties. Enormous. But you don't know university contracts, my dear Dominie. By contract, the royalties go to Syrtus, where"-Professor Corque's smile soured-"where they are spent on such studies as Remedial Table Tennis, Demonia Orientation, and The Light Verse of Leopold von SacherMasoch."
Manwright shook his head in exasperation. "Those damned faculty clowns! I've turned down a dozen university offers, and no wonder. It's an outrage that you should be forced to humiliate yourself and- Listen, Corque, I've been dying to get the details on how you discovered that Ganymede methophyte. When will you have some time? I thought-Where are you staying on Terra?"
"The Borealis."
"What? That fleabag?"
"I have to economize for my research."
"Well, you can economize by moving in with me. It won't cost you a cent. I've got plenty of room, and I'll put you up for the duration, with pleasure. I've generated a housekeeper who'll take good care of you-and rather startle you, I think. Now do say yes, Corque. We've got a hell of a lot of discussing to do and I've got a lot to learn from you."
"I think it will be the other way around, my dear Dominie."


"Don't argue! Just pack up, get the hell out of the Borealis, and-"
"What, Sandy?"
(Musical Note)
"Where?
(Musical Note)
"Oh, yes, I see the rat-fink."
"What now, Manwright?"
"Her husband. I'll trouble you to use restraint on me, or he'll become her late husband."
An epicene hove into view-tall, slender, elegant, in fleshcolored SkinAll-with chest, arms, and legs artfully padded to macho dimensions, as was the ornamented codpiece. Manwright juggled the extinguisher angrily, as though groping for the firing pin of a grenade. He was so intent on the encounter that Corque was able to slip the cylinder out of his hands as the epicene approached, surveyed them, and at last spoke.
"Ali, Manwright."
"Jessamy!" Manwright turned the name into a denunciation.
"Sandra."
"
11 11
And our impresario."
"Good evening, Mr. Jessamy"
"Manwright, I have a bone to pick with you."