"Chalker, Jack L - G.O.D. Inc 2 - The Shadow Dancers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

take their credit cards. We was doin' real good-maybe eighty grand a year or
more, before taxes, and we had a shitload of deductions. It was crazy. Years and
years I worked like a dog and got nothin' but poorer and poorer- I'd'a made a
profit goin' on welfare-but now I had all this stuff and not only didn't I have
to work for it, it was better I didn't. If Daddy had this agency the way it was
now, then maybe I'd'a grown up fancy and speakin' all clear and nice like some
TV newsperson and have gone to all the right schools and I'd be right up there
now. I mean, I seen some of them high-steppin' black folks around, and they seem
to be real in and real popular. They're even more uncomfortable when I'm around,
though; guess I remind 'em too much of their roots or what they beat. Maybe
kinda like that sergeant in Soldier's Story who thought black society couldn't
afford blacks like me no more.
Thing was, them oreos wanted to forget where they came from; I couldn't help but
bring it with me.
That left Sam as the only important person in my life. He was my lover and my
best friend, but he was really my only friend. He was everything rolled into
one, but when he wasn't around I had nothin'. I needed something of my own, some
place where I'd feel comfortable and something to do I felt important at.
I'm also not gettin' no younger. Oh, sure, with our connections with the Company
we can get a lot of fancy stuff that keeps us lookin' and feelin' better than we
should and maybe give us real nice lookin' old ages, but I never yet seen a drug
that didn't have a price and I sure wouldn't start on them things if I was gonna
have kids. I'm thirty-two now, my clock's tickin' on that no matter what magic
they can pull, but I don't want to bring up no kids in a downtown apartment.
They'll have enough problems bein' half black and half white, and I want them
schooled and brought up so they at least'll be comfortable in this society where
only money really matters.
We're makin' out good but we're spendin' good, too. Hard to stop when you ain't
never had it before and never thought you would, and that's both Sam and me. If
I got to be my own universe I want a nice, big house with lots of land, like out
in the new-money sections of the Main Line.
Well, I always get down in the dumps when Sam's not around. I had to do
something, though, and I knew it. I'd quit smokin' 'cause we couldn't afford it
and now I was up to two packs a day and, as I say, the weight was comin' back
fast, but I just couldn't bring myself to put myself on some diet. Who the hell
was I tryin' to impress, anyway?
I just settled back on the bed and was goin' through the TV cable guide when the
phone rang. It was late, so I figured it had to be Sam, but it wasn't. It was
Bill Markham.
Now, we hadn't seen or heard from Bill Markham in quite a while, so it was a
pretty big surprise. He was head of security for the Company here on our Earth,
a native of here, too, and while he helped us get where we were he also was one
of them folks whose nuts we'd pulled out of the fire when we stumbled into this.
Without even a Christmas card after all this time, I figured that if Bill called
it wasn't to see how we was.
"Brandy, is Sam back yet?"
"Uh uh. Not till tomorrow afternoon, last I knew. Why?"
"We've had something come up that might be up your line. Company business."
"I can tell him to call you when he gets in."
"Uh uh. No, this concerns both of you. You, really, more than Sam."