"Marc Laidlaw - The Black Bus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laidlaw Marc)

pretending. The motion of the bus lulled him. She realized it was probably the first
time he had ever allowed himself to sleep on a moving bus. My God, she thought.
The most basic pleasure of the journey and heтАЩs never experienced it until now, no
wonder he seemed so uncomfortable all the time.

Driver opened his eyes and looked at them.

тАЬWhat kind of bus is this?тАЭ he said.

тАЬYouтАЩll be sorry you asked that question,тАЭ Neuron said.

Sonora had ominous intimations of an unspeakable horror about to be
revealed. No sooner had Neuron spoken his warning than an old man near the front
of the bus began to talk, twisting his leathery neck around so the cords twined
together.

тАЬThis is the only kind of bus there is,тАЭ the old man said.

тАЬThat thereтАЩs Crouch,тАЭ said Neuron. тАЬAnd you just started him on his favorite
subject.тАЭ

тАЬItтАЩs not my favorite тАФ not by a long shot,тАЭ Crouch said, knee-walking
toward them. тАЬBut itтАЩs one on which I have many opinions.тАЭ
 тАЬThatтАЩs what I meant,тАЭ Neuron said.

тАЬTheyтАЩre not the same thing, what you said and what you meant.тАЭ

тАЬCrouch, you make my brain tired.тАЭ

тАЬAnd it makes my soul weary looking at you, Cerebrus.тАЭ

тАЬWhat was that again?тАЭ Sonora asked, looking on amazed at this stream of
bickering, which suggested old well-worn rots in the relationship between these men,
so that she doubted they could ever talk to one another in any other way тАФ had they
even wanted to.

тАЬCerebrus. The Spectacular Transparent Head. The Mind-Body split made
manifest.тАЭ

тАЬI have many opinions about buses, too,тАЭ Driver said. тАЬIтАЩve thought about
them a lot, while I was driving. But this isnтАЩt like riding on any bus I can imagine.
This is like moving on waves, just soft little swells over the sea . . . or a big lake.тАЭ

тАЬOr a river,тАЭ said the old man. тАЬA riverтАЩs more like it.тАЭ

Then тАЬLook!тАЭ said Yvette at one of the windows, peering out through a tiny
spyslot sheтАЩd lifted beneath the shades. тАЬItтАЩs our bus!тАЭ

Sonora turned around and made herself one of the eyeholes. They were
coming down from the mountains, narrow curving roads winding around and