"Bester, Alfred - Demolished Man, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bester Alfred)Century also had shelves of obsolete printed books.
"I want something special for a friend I've neglected," Reich told the salesman. He was bombarded with merchandise. "Not special enough," he complained. "Why don't you people hire a peeper and save your clients this trouble? How quaint and old-fashioned can you get?" He began sauntering around the shop, tailed by a retinue of anxious clerks. After he had dissembled sufficiently, and before the worried manager could send out for a peeper salesman, Reich stopped before the bookshelves. "What's this?" he inquired in surprise. "Antique books, Mr. Reich." The sales staff began explaining the theory and practice of the archaic visual book while Reich slowly searched for the tattered brown volume that was his goal. He remembered it well. He had glanced through it five years ago and made a note in his little black opportunity book. Old Geoffry Reich wasn't the only Reich who believed in preparedness. "Interesting. Yes. Fascinating. What's this one?" Reich pulled down the brown volume." `Let's Play Party.' What's the date on it? Not Really. You mean to say they had parties that long ago?" The staff assured him that the ancients were very modern in many astonishing ways. "Look at the contents," Reich chuckled. "`Honeymoon Bridge'... `Prussian Whist'... `Post Office'... `Sardine.' What in the world could that be? Page ninety-six. Let's have a look." Reich flipped pages until he came to a bold-face heading: HILARIOUS MIXED PARTY GAMES. "Look at this," he laughed, pretending surprise. He pointed to the SARDINE One player is selected to be It. All the lights are extinguished and the It hides anywhere in the house. After a few minutes, the players go to find the It, hunting separately. The first one who finds him does not reveal the fact but hides with him wherever he may be. Successively each player finding the Sardines joins them until all are hidden in one place and the last player, who is the loser, is left to wander alone in the dark. "I'll take it," Reich said. "It's exactly what I need." That evening he spent three hours carefully defacing the remains of the volume. With heat, acid, stain, and scissors, he mutilated the game instructions; and every bum, every cut, every slash was a blow at D'Courtney's writhing body. When his proxy murders were finished, he had reduced every game to incomplete fragments. Only "Sardine" was left intact. Reich wrapped the book, addressed it to Graham, the appraiser, and dropped it into the airslot. It went off with a puff and a bang and returned an hour later with Graham's official sealed appraisal. Reich's mutilations had not been detected. He had the book gift-wrapped with the appraisal enclosed (as was the custom) and slotted it to Maria Beaumont's house. Twenty minutes later came the reply: "Darling! Darling! Darling! I thot you'd forgotten (evidently Maria had written the note herself) little ol sexy me. How 2 divine. Come to Beaumont House tonite. We're having a party. We'll play games from your sweet gift." There was a portrait of Maria centered in the star of a synthetic ruby enclosed in the message capsule. A nude portrait, naturally. |
|
|