"Ron Goulart - Change Over" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goulart Ron)

The king was giving derelicts free rides around the memorial fountain in the only square in Ghetto # 13.
A grizzled tobacco freak was doing a handstand on the bare back of the brownish stallion. The man's
dotted tunic tails flapped like pennants. A dozen others were watching, clapping hands or shaking fists.
In the doorway of the Chez Nul stood the leader of the Counter-culture Commandos and the chief
correspondent for the Bamum News Syndicate. They were both taking pictures.

Carnivan skirted the edge of the cobblestone square, hopping to avoid puddles and scum and offal. He
caught hold of Marlow Demby, the big bearded newsman, and said, "Give us a break, Marlow."

"Hey, Bob, you jiggled that last shot," complained Demby. He was using a slim robot camera, which
now gave out an angry bleep. "See?"

"Why don't you bribe him, you oligarch's retainer you?" asked Mick Ezra, the thin pale Counter-Culture
Commando.

"Ezra," said Carnivan, "you have the functions of democracy all confused in your head. That's because
you're not well-read in the area of politics. You probably don't even read the press releases I put out."

"Those despot's boot lickings I always devour," said Ezra.

Carnivan turned again to the newsman. "Marlow, I'm putting a lot of effort into getting King Umberto to
modify some of his habits. I know you can't suppress the news, but could you maybe soften it a little?
How'd you find out about this anyway?"



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 Change Over

"People confide in me," replied Demby. "Though I'm offplanet, same as yourself, I'm in tune with these
people of Zombada Territory. The everyday guys, the street-corner folks and the honest job bunch as
well. Maybe there's something almost mystical the way these people confide in me. Tell it to Demby,
they seem to feel, and he'll pass it on to the universe. Funny, Bob, how a dictator can squash the truth and
yet the truth will come blossoming forth."

"Come on," said Carnivan. "You're doing one kind of publicity and I'm doing another." Something
nuzzled him in the back and then warm breath was snorted in his ear.

"Hello, Bobby, want a ride?"

Carnivan turned round to face the horse. "Let's go over into that alley, king," he whispered. "I want to
talk to you."

"Beautiful, terrific," said Ezra, clicking off another photo with his manual camera. "Beastly despot
consorts with elitist menial."