"Eric Flint - 1632" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flint Eric)

Mike Stearns followed his gaze. Tom Simpson's mother and father were standing near the far wall of the
cafeteria, some fifty feet away. Their postures were stiff; their faces, sour. Their very expensive clothing
was worn like suits of armor. They were holding the cups of punch in their hands by thumb and
forefinger, as if determined to make as little contact with the surrounding festivities as possible.

Mike repressed a smile. Ah, yes. The dignitaries from civilization, maintaining their savoir faire among the
cannibals. They'll hold a cup of blood, but damned if they'll drink it.

"Don't worry about it, Tom," he said softly. Mike's eyes moved away from the haughty couple against
the wall and surveyed the crowd. The gaze was filled with satisfaction.

The cafeteria was a very large room. The utilitarian gray and cream walls had been festooned with an
abundance of decorations, which made up in cheerfulness and festive abandon whatever they lacked in
subdued good taste. Many of the cafeteria's plastic chairs had been moved against the walls, providing a
bright orange contrastтАФthose few of them that were not holding someone. Long tables ranged near the
kitchen were laden with food and drink.

There was no caviar, and no champagne. But the crowd which packed the room wouldn't have enjoyed
the firstтАФfish eggs, yuk!тАФand the second was prohibited by high-school regulations. Mike was not
concerned. He knew his folk. They would enjoy the simple fare which was piled on the tables, thank you,
even if itwas beneath the contempt of wealthy urban sophisticates. That was true of the adults, even,
much less the horde of children swarming all over the place.

Mike gave the younger man standing at his side a little pat on the shoulder. It was like patting a slab of
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beef. Tom was the first-string nose guard for West Virginia University's varsity squad, and looked the
part. "My sister marriedyou , not your parents."

Tom scowled. "Doesn't matter. They could at leastтАФ Why did they even bother to show up at my
wedding, if they were going to act like this?"

Mike glanced at him. For all Tom's immense size, Mike didn't have to look up. Tom was barely over six
feet tall, about Mike's own height, even if he outweighed him by a good hundred pounds.

Tom was back to glaring at his parents. His own face was as stiff as theirs. Unobserved, Mike studied
his new brother-in-law.

Very new brother-in-law. The wedding had been held not two hours earlier, in a small church less than a
mile away from the high school. Tom's parents had been just as haughtily rude at the church as they were
being now at the reception.Their son should have been married in a properly discreet ceremony in a
proper Episcopaliancathedral , notтАФnotтАФ

This yahoo preacher! In this yahooтАФshack!

Mike and his sister had abandoned the stark faith of their ancestors in favor of quiet agnosticism. Years