"Brown, Eric - Fall of Tartarus 01 - Destiny on Tartarus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Eric)

He drained his mug and dropped it into the gutter, and I did the
same. "If you're dining tonight," Buzatti said, "perhaps I could return
the compliment? I'm staying at the Rising Sun, along Bergamot Walk.
How about dinner? Around nine?"
I told him I would be delighted, and took his proffered hand.
"Around nine it is," I said.
"Till then." He saluted, turned, and was soon lost to sight in the
crowd flowing down the street.
I found a rickshaw н or rather a rickshaw driver found me н and I
gave as my destination the Imperial Hotel. As I sat back in the padded
seat and was ferried swiftly down the surging stream of packed
humanity, I felt gladdened by my chance encounter. My major fear
had been to be alone in the alien city; now I had an urbane dining
companion, and one who was familiar with this strange world.
My optimism rose still further when the Imperial Hotel turned out
to be an old, ivied building set back from the street in its own placid
lawns. I paid the driver in the units I had used aboard the sailship, as
he had no machine with which to take my chip. Then I dismounted,
hauled my travelling bag up the wide steps, and entered the cool foyer.
I had had the foresight to book a room from Earth, via the shipping
agency. I gave my name to the clerk. "Three nights, Mr Singer... That
will be three hundred shellings, please."
I pulled my money bag from the pocket of my coat and withdrew
a bundle of notes, which I proffered to the clerk. He frowned at the
wad in my outstretched hand.
"Is there some problem?" I asked.
"Indeed there is," he said, taking the notes and laying them upon
the counter. "Behold, they are worthless scraps of paper н not even
competent forgeries!"
"But that's impossible!" I cried. "I exchanged my Terran notes for
Tartarean currency at the bank in the port! They would never have
robbed-"
"Then someone else has taken the liberty," he said.
I recalled that Buzatti had helped me with my money bag. Only he
might have robbed me of my life savings! I very nearly collapsed,
overcome with despair at what I might do now, and self-loathing that
I had been such a fool.
Buzatti had given me the name of his hotel. "Do you know if there
is a hotel on Bergamot Walk called the Rising Sun?" I asked.
The clerk frowned at me. "No hotel of that name exists," he replied.
I felt rage towards Buzatti and his cohort the vendor for so cruelly
robbing me.
I told the clerk that I would book a room for one night, and paid
for it with the spare notes I had in my trouser pocket.
He completed various forms and handed me the key. "And I'd
contact the police if I were you, sir."
In a daze I made my way to the elevator and rode to the third floor.
Once in my room I dropped my bag, slammed the door and sat on
the bed, disconsolate at the prospect of an early end to my quest.
The famous night lights of Tartarus were flickering in the southern