"C M Kornbluth - Thirteen O'Clock" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kornbluth C M)

Ill

"Mahoora City Limits," said the sign. Peter scratched his head and passed it. He had hit the stretch of
highway a few miles back once he had got out of the forest, and it seemed to be leading straight into a
city of some kind. There was a glow ahead in the sky; a glow which abruptly became a glare.

Peter gasped. "Buildings-skyscrapers!" Before him reared a sort of triple Wall Street with which were
combined the most spectacular features of Rockefeller Center. In the sudden way in which things
happened in Ellil he turned a blind corner in the road and found himself in the thick of it.

A taxi roared past him; with a muttered imprecation he jumped out of the way. The bustling people on
the sidewalks ignored him completely. It was about six o'clock; they were probably going home from
their offices. They were all sorts of people-women and girls, plain and pretty, men and boys, slim, fat,
healthy and dissipated. And striding along in lordly indifference Peter saw a cop.

"Excuse me," said Peter elbowing his way through the crowd

to the member of Mahoora's finest. "Can you tell me where I can find water?" That was, he realized,
putting it a bit crudely. But he was hopelessly confused by the traffic and swarms of pedestrians.

The cop turned on him with a glassy stare. "Water?" he rumbled. "Would yez be wantin' tap, ditch,
fire-or cologne?" Peter hesitated. He didn't know, he realized in a sudden panic. The elves, or whatever
they had been, hadn't specified. Cagily he raised his hand to his brow and muttered, " 'Scuse me-
previous engagement-made the appointment for today- just forgot-" He was edging away from the cop
when he felt a hand on his arm.

"What was that about water?" asked the cop hoarsely, putting his face near Peter's. Desperately Peter
blurted: "The water I have to find to lick Almarish!" Who could tell? Maybe the cop would help him.
"What?" thundered M.P.D. Shield No. 2435957607. "And me a loyal supporter of the Mayor Almarish
Freedom Peace and Progress Reform Administration?" He frowned. "You look subversive to me-come
on!" He raised his nightstick suggestively, and Peter meekly followed him through the crowds.

"How'd they get you in here?" asked Peter's cell-mate.

Peter inspected him. He was a short, dark sort of person with a pair of disconcertingly bright eyes.
"Suspicion," said Peter evasively. "How about you?"

"Practicing mancy without a license, theoretically. Actually because I tried to buck the Almarish machine.
You know how it is?"

"Can't say I do," answered Peter. "I'm a stranger here."

"Yeah? Well-like this. Few years ago we had a neat little hamlet here. Mahoora was the biggest little city
in these parts of Ellil, though I say it myself. A little industry-magic chalices for export, sandals of
swiftness, invisibility cloaks, invincible weapons-you know?"

"Um," said Peter noncommittally.

"Well, I had a factory-modest little chemical works. We turned out love-philtres from my own