"Monica Hughes - Devil On My Back" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hughes Monica)

Pouting, Tomi joined the crowd struggling to move from the Assembly Room to the living quads.
Most of the workers lived on the outer arcs of East and North Quad. Tomi found himself swept along
with the crowd, unable to wriggle free and get to the safety of his home on the first arc of North Quad.
He was squeezed between well-muscled bodies, considerably taller than himself.
"Help. Let me out! I am Lord Tomi!" But they paid no attention, intent only on getting safely
home themselves.
By the time the crowd had thinned enough for Tomi to wriggle to one side and flatten himself
against a wall, he found he had been carried far along the main eastern corridor that ran from Circle Four
out to Circle Fourteen. He was about as far from home as it was possible to be.
 He watched apartment doors open and slam shut, mothers dragging reluctant children,
grandparents being helped along. Soon all the doors were shut and there was nobody. Except him.
His heart pounded and he told himself firmly that there was nothing to worry about. The soldiers
would keep an eye on him on their monitors. He walked slowly back towards Center, his sandalled feet
making a light lap-lapping on the plastic floor. To left and right, passages curved away. Ten. Nine. Eight.
Seven. He made up his mind that when he got to Four he would turn right and take a short cut across to
the main Northeast corridor. From there it was only three blocks to Center. He would ask for help if
there was any trouble. After all he was a Lord now.
The passages of the Third Floor of ArcOne were like a spider s web radiating from the center
where the elevators stood. The design was as familiar to Tomi as the lines on the palm of his hand. Only
now, as he imagined slaves armed with knives ready to spring on him around the next curve, the familiar
web felt like a trap.
Once the lights dimmed and he pressed himself against a wall. Suppose he had to find his way
home in the dark? But they strengthened again and he went on, almost running, determined to reach the
safety of home before they dimmed again. His fat belly wobbled. He was hot and out of breath.
His panic speed was his undoing. He turned right into the curve of the fourth passage and ran
smack into a person. No, three people. He saw the tangled hair, the short tunics and the bare feet of
slaves. He tried to turn and run back.
"Not so fast, Young Lord." His arms were twisted cruelly behind his back. He screamed before
he could stop himself.
"What have we here?" One of them pulled the edge of his toga so as to bring the design closer to
his eyes. His lips moved. "Well, well, here's a pretty prize!"
"Come on, stop messing about. Kill him and lets get on."
"Hold on, blockhead. D'you know who this brat is? He's the New Lordling, son of the high and
mighty kiss-your-hand Lord Bentt, that's who he is. Listen to me, my dears. We're not going to lay a
hand on him. He's for Twenty-Four. Twenty-Four will know what to do with him. Where is
Twenty-Four?"
"In the workers' dining hall."
"Off we go then. He will be pleased."
They dragged Tomi along the passage. As they turned into the wide corridor that ran straight
from Center to the Northeast rim, Tomi yelled. "Security! Soldiers, help!"
"Save your breath. They won't hear. Or see either." The slave walking ahead gestured to the
ceiling where the TV monitor dangled uselessly by its wires.
But the soldiers have the elevators, Tomi reminded himself. That was one of the first things Father
had told them to do.
Sure enough, they were there, a solid red presence, backs to the elevator doors, stun guns
raised. "Help!" Tomi yelled again.
The slave who had been in front stepped quickly to one side. The ones who had been holding
Tomi pushed him forward. Their thin fingers bit painfully into his fat arms. He wanted to cry. It was all so
unfair. This was to have been his special day and these slaves had turned it into a nightmare. Something
cold and sharp was pressed lightly against his bare throat.