"Leo Frankowski & Dave Grossman - The War With Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frankowski Leo)

a pretty, budding twelve-year-old girl wanted my autograph, and I just couldn't turn her
down. After I signed her book, she jumped up, grabbed me around the neck, and gave me
a squirming, hard-bodied kiss that I'm sure she thought was very sexy. The primary effect
was smearing my face with lipstick, and bruising my lip.
I wiped off the lipstick and blood, bemused by the fact that this was the only actual
injury that I had sustained in the entire "war."
We turned the corner and found the church.
 CHAPTER FOUR

Priests, Realtors, and Croatian Law
The priest spoke neither Polish, nor Kashubian, nor English. I spoke neither Croatian,
nor Italian, nor Latin, and therefore we ended up communicating through my attendant
again.
The priest had never heard of Dream World, and apparently he never went to the
movies, either. He stared incomprehensively when I said that although we had been on
New Yugoslavia for years, and that we had been trying to get to a priest almost the whole
time, this was our first real opportunity. Finally, he asked when I had last been to
confession. When I told him that it had been four and a half years, I thought that he
would go into convulsions. He demanded that if I wanted to stay a Roman Catholic, I
would confess to him immediately.
When I asked if there was room in the confessional for my translator, he launched
into a tirade that never did get translated.
I got out my communicator and called Agnieshka.
"I know, boss. But you insisted on going to the nearest priest. The one who usually
handles the Kashubian Forces is three blocks in the other direction."
"Right," I said, leaving. The priest's tirade could still be heard as we stepped into the
street.
On the walk there, I didn't speak to anyone, not even nymphettes with autograph
books.
The next priest was a good deal more reasonable. He started out by explaining that
many people coming out of the modern army were confused as to what was real and what
was not. But as far as my soul was concerned, he assured me that the only important
thing was what I had thought was true at the time it happened.
If I had thought that I had committed murder, then I was a murderer, even if no one
was actually injured. If I had been acting in what appeared to me to be a sane and
responsible manner, and the tank that I was in had inadvertently killed someone in the
real world, I was not guilty of any sin.
I might possibly be guilty of a legal crime, but not of a religious sin.
Well, with those as ground rules, confession became a good deal easier, although
since it covered a period of over eight years, it was lengthy.
Finally, it was agreed that we would hold the wedding at his church in three days, on
Monday morning.
I called Kasia to tell her. She said that that was wonderful, but she was shopping, and
could I call her back later?
Meanwhile, Agnieshka had found out what I had in the bank. It seemed like a large
number, but since I didn't know what a New Croatian mark was worth, it didn't mean
much to me.
Also, she had arranged an appointment for me with an English-speaking realtor so I
could find out what my money could buy.
The guy was polished, smooth, and seemed to know what he was talking about. He