"C M Kornbluth - The Cosmic Charge Account UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kornbluth C M)posture. Spiders. Crawling^hairy, horrid spiders with purple, venom-dripping fangs. They hid in your shoes and bit you and your feet swelled with the poison. Their sticky, loathsome webs brushed across your face when you walked in the dark and they came scuttling silently, champing their jaws, winking their evil gem-like eyes. Spiders!
The voice of the duchess blared impatiently: "I said, join us, O strangers. Well, what are you waiting for?" The professor and I relaxed and looked at each other. "She's mad," the professor said softly. "From an asylum." "I doubt it. You don't know America very well. Maybe you lock them up when they get like that in Europe; over here we elect them chairlady of the Library Fund Drive. If we don't, we never hear the end of it." The costumed girl was leading the Duchess's sulky onto the road again. Some of her retinue were beginning to follow; she waved them back and dismissed the girl curtly. We skirted the heat of the burning car and approached her. It was that or try to outrun a volley from the miscellaneous sporting rifles. "O strangers," she said, "you mentioned La Plume. Do you happen to be acquainted with my dear friend Phoebe Bancroft?" The professor nodded before I could stop him. But almost simultaneously with his nod I was dragging the Duchess from her improvised chariot. It was very unpleasant, but I put my hands around her throat and knelt on her. It meant letting go of the briefcase but it was worth it. She guggled and floundered and managed to whoop: "Don't shoot! I take it back, don't shoot them. Pamphil-ius, don't shoot, you might hit me!" "Send 'em away," I told her. "Never!" she blared. "They are my loyal retainers." "You try, professor," I said. I believe what he put on then was his classroom man- ner. He stiffened and swelled and rasped towards the shrubbery: "Come out at once. All of you." They came out, shambling and puzzled. They realized that something was very wrong. There was the Duchess on the ground and she wasn't telling them what to do the way she'd been telling them for weeks now. They wanted to oblige her in any little way they could, like shooting strangers, or scrounging canned food for her, but how could they oblige her while she lay there slowly turning purple? It was very confusing. Luckily there was somebody else to oblige, the professor. "Go away," he barked at them. "Go far away. We do not need you any more. And throw away your guns." Well, that was something a body could understand. They smiled and threw away their guns and went away in their obliging and considerate fashion. I eased up on the Duchess's throat. "What was that guff about the New Lemuria?" I asked her. "You're a rude and ignorant young man," she snapped. From the corner of my eye I could see the professor involuntarily nodding agreement. "Every educated person knows that the lost wisdom of Lemuria was to be revived in the person of a beautiful priestess this year. According to the science of pyramidologyЧ" Beautiful priestess? Oh. The professor and I stood by while she spouted an amazing compost of lost-continentism, the Ten Tribes, anti-fluoridation, vegetarianism, homeopathic medicine, organic farming, astrology, flying saucers, and the prose-poems of Khalil Gibran. The professor said dubiously at last: "I suppose one must call her a sort of Cultural Diffusionist. . . ." He was happier when he had her classified. He went on: "I think you know Miss Phoebe Bancroft. We wish you to present us to her as soon as possible." "Professor," I complained, "we have a roadmap and we can find La Plume. And once we've found La Plume I don't think it'll be very hard to find Miss Phoebe." "I will be pleased to accompany you," said the Duch- a ess. "Though normally I frown on mechanical devices, I keep an automobile nearby in case ofЧin case ofЧ-well! Of all the rudeЧI" |
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