"Paul Di Filippo - Stink Lines" - читать интересную книгу автора (Di Filippo Paul)

one of the village's mainattractions: Uncle Scrooge's Money Bin, repository of
the fabled Number OneDime. A crowd of several hundred people were gathered in
the square. Gyro nowhad a chance to see how certain of the utility fog's
processing routines fullymanifested themselves. For instance: the utility fog
tried not to overlapindividual speech and noise balloons, if possible.
Positioning a balloon ideallyabove the head of each speaker, the fog would
only layer the balloons likemultiple windows on an old-fashioned computer
desktop if individuals werecrowded together, such as now.Additionally, of
course, louder noises and shouts produced proportionatelylarger displays,
which perforce interfered with smaller ones. Quickly picking upon this,
children had begun screaming in order to overlay their parents' words.The
consequent decibel level was almost painful.Gyro glanced up at a clock on town
hall. "It's time for the daily raid by theBeagle Boys.""As if I could ever
forget," Ginger said. "Don't you ever wonder sometimes,Gyro, what kind of
people we would have been if we had grown up in a normaltown?"Gyro astonished
himself with his boldness. "Why, I think you're just perfect asyou are,
Ginger."Ginger smiled and said, "Thank you," with Gyro's words hanging
embarrassingly inthe air between them.Right on time a gunshot rang out,
accompanied by an unprecedented leaden BANG!,and the trio of masked and
stubble-faced Beagle Boys tumbled out of the MoneyBin, clutching bags of loot.
But as they ran from the arriving Duckburg police,something new was in
evidence.The Beagles were surrounded by motion lines.In the air behind them,
the runners left day-glo jetstreams, and their pumpinglegs were hidden in
spinning-prop effects, making the robbers appear to betorsos mounted on
careening wheelchairs.Disconcerted, the Beagles ground to a stop and began to
wave their arms about,as if to shoo curious encircling bystanders away from
their possibly dangerousappearance. Their arms exhibited ghost-replication:
faint duplicates of theirlimbs traced the paths of their every movement.Gyro
turned to Ginger. The reporter with whom he was incurably in love wasregarding
Gyro as if he were a caged specimen of the bulletheaded Bomb Birdsthat Donald
had encountered in "Adventure at Bomb Bird Island." "Heh-heh, quiteharmless.
Over a certain velocity and under certain emotional stresses, theseeffects
kick in, you see .... "Now the Beagles were arguing with each other. One began
to swear, and his cursewords were represented in his balloon by various
censorious icons: asterisks,whirlwinds, stars and such. A second Beagle
decided that the show must go on,and he resumed running. Unfortunately, he
tried to continue the argument at thesame time, looking over his shoulder, and
thus impacted a tree. Despite theprotection of his foam costume, he fell
unconscious to the ground, and a flockof twittering bluebirds began to circle
his head."I need pictures of this!" Ginger said. "My camera's in the
car.""I'll come with you," Gyro said hastily, wondering how he would ever
begin hisromantic pitch under these awkward circumstances.Together, Ginger and
Gyro reached the main gated entrance to Duckburg. Departingthe town limits,
they headed toward one of the many parking lots. They werehalfway there before
Gyro noticed something.Ginger's stink lines still attended her."No," said Gyro
unbelievingly, "this can't be." His words were promptlyballooned.Ginger
stopped. "What's the matter?""The utility fog is supposed to be constrained
within the perimeter of the town.No leakage."Gyro looked back at Duckburg. A
small mechanical figure was hastening throughthe gate toward them. In a few
seconds Li'l Bulb had caught up with his boss.The assistant carried Gyro's