"Chalker, Jack L - DG1 - The River of the Dancing Gods" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

choice. There was a slight downgrade to a standard stop sign
and a set of small signs. To the left, they said, were Ruddygore
and the impossible ferry. To the right was -- Oblivion.

"I never heard of any town named Oblivion, either," he
muttered, "but it sounds right for these parts. Still, all the signs
said only Ruddygore, so that's got to be the bigger and closer
place. Any place they build an interstate spur to at a few million

13

JACK L. CHALKER

bucks a mile has to have something open even this time of
night. Besides," he added, "I'm damned curious to see that
ferry in the middle of the desert."

He put on his signals, then made the turn onto a modest
two-lane road. He passed under the highway and noted glumly
that there wasn't any apparent way of getting back on. Well,
he told himself, he'd find it later.

Up ahead in the distance he saw, not the town lights he'd
expected, but an odd, circular, lighted area. It was particularly
unusual in that it looked something like the kind of throw a
huge spotlight, pointed straight down, might give -- but there
were no signs of lights anywhere. Fingering the pistol, he
proceeded on, knowing that the road was leading him to that
lighted area.

And it was bright when he reached it, although no source
was apparent. The road, too, seemed to vanish into it, and the
entire surface appeared as smooth as glass. Damnedest thing
he'd ever seen, maybe a thousand yards across. He stopped at
the edge of it, and both he and the woman strained to see where
the light was coming from, but the sky remained black -- blacker
than usual, since the reflected glow blotted out all but the
brightest stars.

"Now, what the hell... ?" he mused aloud.

"Hey! Look! Up ahead there, almost in the middle. Isn't
that a man?" She pointed through the windshield.

He squinted and nodded. "Yeah. Sure looks like somebody.
I don't like this, though. Not at all. There's some very funny
game being played here." Again he reached in and felt the
comfort of the .38 in his pocket. He put the truck back in gear
and moved slowly forward, one eye on the strange figure ahead
and the other warily on the woman, whom he no longer trusted.