"M. John Harrison - Light" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison John M)

be generous to you.'
'Uncle Zip? Do you know a Dr Haends?'
'I never heard of him,' said Uncle Zip quickly, 'and I know every tailor from here to the Core.'
'Do you think it's military?'
'No.'
'Do you think it's modern?'
'No.'
'So what can I do?'
Uncle Zip sighed. 'I already told you: bring it back to me.'
Seria Mau felt reluctant. She felt as if some other avenue should open up for her at this point. She said:
'You've lost your credibility here тАФ '
Uncle Zip threw up his hands and laughed.
' тАФ and I want to meet this guy, this Billy Anker.'
'I should know better than to argue with a fetch!' He stared at her, still amused but suddenly alert.
'First off, Billy Anker is not known to be a guy with a refund policy,' he said quietly. 'In addition, he is my
guy, not yours. Thirdly, he is not a cutter. You understand? What do you think you'd get from him, young
woman, that you won't get from me?'
'I don't know, Uncle. Something. I don't know what. But you aren't telling me what you know. And I
have to start somewhere.'
He stared at her a moment longer, and she could see him think.
Then he said, in a throwaway voice: 'OK.'
'I've got money.'
'I don't want money for this,' said Uncle Zip. 'When I think about it this could work out for all of us.
Even Billy.' He smiled to himself. 'I'll give you Billy as a favour. Maybe you'll do me a favour sometime
down the line.' He waved one hand dismissively. 'It won't be much, no problem.'
'I'd rather pay.'
 Uncle Zip got gracefully to his feet.
'Don't look a gift-horse in the mouth,' he advised her flatly. 'Take my deal, I'll let you in on Billy's
whereabouts. Maybe also his present ambitions.'
'I'll think about it.'
'Hey, don't think too long.'
While he sat, he had balanced his accordion on his powerful thighs. Now he took it up, and got the
straps back over his shoulders, and squeezed out a long introductory chord. 'What's money anyway?' he
said. 'Money isn't everything. I go down to the Core, it's five hundred light years of money. Money all the
way. They got entire planetary systems designated FTZs. They got women with two days' training,
sweating out lousy little do-it-yourself splicing kits, what for? So their kids can eat. Oh, and so Earth
kids can get a legal patch at a factor five mark-up. Break the seal on the code and give themselves
metabolic collapse on a Saturday night. You know what those corporates say?'
'What do they say, Uncle Zip?'
'They say, "Money has no morality," in these voices make you want to puke. They're proud of it.'
It was 2 a.m. in Carmody, and the Kefahuchi Tract glittered across the sky as bright as Uncle Zip's
accordion. He played another chord, and then a series of brash arpeggios that rippled one into the next.
He puffed up his cheeks and began to stamp his feet. One by one, his audience slipped back into the
parlour, giving weak apologetic grins to Seria Mau's fetch. It was as if they had been waiting somewhere
down Henry Street, some bar not far down, for the music to start up again. They brought bottles in
brown bags, and this time one or two shy women were with them, casting glances out of the side of their
eyes at Uncle Zip then looking quickly away again. Seria Mau listened to another song, then let herself
fade into brown smoke.
On the face of it, Uncle Zip was solid. He dealt with the passing trade: cultivars for pleasure, sentient
tattoos, also any kind of superstitious hitch and splice, like ensuring your firstborn gets the luck gene of