"Philip Jose Farmer - The Empire of the Nine omnibus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Farmer Phillip Jose)

I waited, and when the time came, I called out with Brodie's voice and then the
voice of the Italian. I did not know his name, and the leader could have tripped
me up there. But he gave each man's name himself before requiring an answer.

I counted thirty-two men. Some of them were, like the Italian, backing up the
enclosers in case I should break loose.

By then I had gotten close enough to the man on my left to cut his jugular vein
from behind with the edge of the knife.

It seemed to me that I had an aisle of escape. I could get away and be miles
inland, and once I was in the rain forest of the higher lands, I could not be
caught.

But I have pride. I wanted to teach the Nine another lesson and also cut down
the numbers opposing me. Also, it seemed to me their base must be nearby and
that they must have a powerful short-wave transceiver there.

Still, there are times to be discreet, and this was one. I went on into the jungle. I
had gotten about fifty yards when I heard muffled shouts. They had discovered
the bodies, and they would be scared now. No doubt many, if not all of them,
knew who I was. They would have known my abilities in the jungle by report and
now they knew by experience. Moreover, adding to the desperation at having me
loose would be the desperation at having to report failure to the Nine. They might
as well be dead if I escaped.

I tried to figure where the radio would most likely be stationed. At one tune, I
could have told you, with my eyes shut, exactly where every tree and bush and
open area were. But the place had changed too much; I might as well be in
completely new territory. Finally, I took to the trees.

I carried the FN strapped over my shoulder, and in the foliage at the top I
removed it. I could see ten of the thirty-one; the others were hidden in the bush.
Nine were congregated around a tall thin man with a thick black moustache. His
hands flew and his mouth worked as he gave orders.

I had seen him before, and now that I recreated his voice in my mind, I
remembered it, too. I had heard it in the caves where the Nine hold their annual
ceremonies, where the members of their ancient organisation come for the grisly
rites they must endure in order to get the elixir of youth. He had not had a
moustache then and he had not been wearing clothes and it had been ten years
ago, so I did not immediately recognise him.

His name was James Murtagh, a name not too different from his real name or
that of his notorious father. He was born in 1881 in Meiringen, Switzerland, but
was raised from the age of eight in Wales. Like his father, he was an extremely
talented mathematician, if not a genius, and he had taught higher mathematics at
Oxford and the University of Talinn. He looked as if he was about forty, so I
suppose that it was in 1921 that he was Invited by the Nine to join them.