"George Alec Effinger - The Zork Chronicles" - читать интересную книгу автора (Effinger George Alec)

she hoped to live up to its standards, and how much she wished her father had lived to see this day, and
how very much she loved everybody. Her voice sounded exactly like Edie Adams doing Marilyn
Monroe.
"I don't believe it," said Glorian. "I just don't believe it. It must have been some kind of strange
voting conspiracy. People casting their ballots on the basis of breast size rather than genuine craft and
dedication. I just wonder how many actual missions Narlinia completed last year." He'd turned aside, not
even watching Narlinia's performance at the podium. Savitri handed her the Campbell Award, the bronze
mask of a god, and Narlinia gushed some more, then wiggled her way back to her own table.
"Can we go now?" asked Glorian.
Amitia laughed. "Come on, Glorian, at least be gracious. You've got to congratulate her."
"Why? Do you see the Hanged Frog being gracious?"
"Glorian," said Amitia with a frown, "if you don't congratulate her everyone will notice, and you'll
just get a big reputation for being a sore loser."
"I am a sore loser," he said grumpily. "This is the tenth time I've lost." Nevertheless, he made himself
get up and ease his way to Narlinia's table. "Congratulations, Narlinia," he said, his eyes pointed down at
the tiled floor. "You know that I wanted to win that Campbell Award myself, but if I didn't get it, then I'm
glad you did."
"Ooh, that's just so sweet, Glorian!" Narlinia cooed. She leaned forward, putting dangerous stresses
on the upper buttresses of her sequined gown, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Now can we go?" muttered Glorian.
"Now we can go," murmured Amitia.
All the way from the bar to the elevator, people stopped Glorian again and again, telling him that it
was a shame he hadn't won the Campbell Award, but that it was an honor just to be nominated. "You
bet," he said each time. He'd really begun to hate hearing about it. He told Amitia that he had a terrible
headache and that he just wanted to go upstairs alone and get some rest. They made plans to have
breakfast the next morning.
Upstairs in his room, Glorian unpacked his bags in the bureau drawers, turned on the television, and
then stretched out in his mythic underwear to watch an episode of "My Mother the Slug," with the voice
of Bea Arthur as Ka'apiti the World Slug of Ghidan. He had started to doze off to sleep when the
telephone rang. "Hello?" he said, yawning.
"Glorian, there is an envelope for you in the upper left drawer of the bureau."
"Who is this? I just unpacked my things, and there wasn't an envelope in that drawer."
"There is now," said the mysterious voice. There was a jagged sound, and then Glorian was listening
to the dull burr of the dial tone. He shrugged, got up, and went to the bureau. He opened the top left
drawer, and there, on top of his socks and underwear, was a white envelope. He tore it open and read
the sheet of paper inside:

Glorian, here are instructions for your most important mission. You must meet a hero by the name
of Mirakles by the usual old white house. You must help him regain the vital Switch that has been dipped
in gold. The fate of this and every other reality depends on your courage and devotion.
Good luck to you,
and may God bless.

He'd received many other directives in his career, most of them in mysterious white envelopes just
like this, but in every case, those orders had come from The Powers That Be.
This one bore the mark of the signet ring of the Autoexec himself. Glorian tossed the paper on the
bureau, lay back down on the bed, and watched the end of "My Mother the Slug." The fate of universal
reality could wait until morning.