"Samuel R. Delany - Corona" - читать интересную книгу автора (Delaney Samuel R)

those solvent cans."

"Okay." Buddy turned off toward the spiral staircase. He was on the
landing, about to go up, when someone yelled down, "Watch it-!"

A ten-gallon drum slammed the walkway five feet from him. He
whirled to see the casing split-

(Faust's sonar drums slammed.)

-and solvent, oxidizing in the air, splattered.

Buddy screamed and clutched his eye. He had been working with the
metal rasp that morning, and his gloves were impregnated with steel
flakes and oil. He ground his canvas palm against his face.

(Faust's electric bass ground against a suspended dissonance.)

As he staggered down the walk, hot solvent rained on his back. Then
something inside went wild and he began to swing his arms.
(The last chorus swung toward the close. And the announcer's voice,
not waiting for the end, cut over, "All right all you little people out
there in music land ...")

"What in the-"

"Jesus, what's wrong with-"

"What happened? I told you the damn lift was broken!"

"Call the infirmary! Quick! Call the-"

Voices came from the level above, the level below. And footsteps.
Buddy turned on the ramp and screamed and swung.

"Watch it! What's with that guy-"

"Here, help me hold . . . Owww!"

"He's gone berserk! Get the doc up from the infirm-"

("... that was Bryan Faust's mind-twisting, brain-blowing, brand-new
release, Corona! And you know it will be a hit! ...")

Somebody tried to grab him, and Buddy hit out. Blind, rolling from the
hips, he tried to apprehend the agony with flailing hands. And couldn't.
A flash bulb had been jammed into his eye socket and detonated. He
knocked somebody else against the rail, and staggered, and shrieked.

("... And he's come down to Earth at last, all you baby-mommas and