"Fritz Leiber - Coming Attraction" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leiber Fritz)

"You wanted me to help you about something," I said. "Incidentally, I think youтАЩre lovely."
She nodded quick thanks, looked around, leaned forward. "Would it be hard for me to get to England?"
"No," I replied, a bit taken aback. "Provided you have an American passport."
"Are they difficult to get?"
"Rather," I said, surprised at her lack of information. "Your country doesnтАЩt like its nationals to travel,
though it isnтАЩt quite as stringent as Russia."
"Could the British Consulate help me get a passport?"
"ItтАЩs hardly theirтАФ"
"Could you?"
I realized we were being inspected. A man and two girls had paused opposite our table. The girls were
tall and wolfish-looking, with spangled masks. The man stood jauntily between them like a fox on its
hind legs.
My companion didnтАЩt glance at them, but she sat back. I noticed that one of the girls had a big yellow
bruise on her forearm. After a moment they walked to a booth in the deep shadows.
"Know them?" I asked. She didnтАЩt reply. I finished my drink. "IтАЩm not sure youтАЩd like England," I said.
"The austerityтАЩs altogether different from your American brand of misery."

file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruiswij...ten/spaar/Fritz%20Leiber%20-%20Coming%20Attraction.htm (9 of 12)19-2-2006 20:26:39
 COMING ATTRACTION - Fritz Leiber



She leaned forward again. "But I must get away," she whispered.
"Why?" I was getting impatient.
"Because IтАЩm so frightened."
There was chimes. I opened the panel and handed her the fried shrimps. The sauce on my breast of
chicken was a delicious steaming compound of almonds, soy and ginger. But something must have been
wrong with the radionic oven that had thawed and heated it, for at the first bite I crunched a kernel of ice
in the meat. These delicate mechanisms need constant repair and there arenтАЩt enough mechanics.
I put down my fork. "What are you really scared of?" I asked her.
For once her mask didnтАЩt waver away from my face. As I waited I could feel the fears gathering without
her naming them, tiny dark shapes swarming through the curved night outside, converging on the
radioactive pest spot of New York, dipping into the margins of the purple. I felt a sudden rush of
sympathy, a desire to protect the girl opposite me. The warm feeling added itself to the infatuation
engendered in the cab.
"Everything," she said finally.
I nodded and touched her hand.
"IтАЩm afraid of the moon," she began, her voice going dreamy and brittle, as it had in the cab. "You canтАЩt
look at it and not think of guided bombs."
"ItтАЩs the same moon over England," I reminded her.
"But itтАЩs not EnglandтАЩs moon any more. ItтАЩs ours and RussiaтАЩs. YouтАЩre not responsible. Oh, and then,"
she said with a tilt of her mask, "IтАЩm afraid of the cars and the gangs and the loneliness and Inferno. IтАЩm
afraid of the lust that undresses your face. And"тАФher voice hushedтАФ"IтАЩm afraid of the wrestlers."
"Yes?" I prompted softly after a moment.
Her mask came forward. "Do you know something about the wrestlers?" she asked rapidly. "The ones
that wrestle women, I mean. They often lose, you know. And then they have to have a girl to take their
frustration out on. A girl whoтАЩs soft and weak and terribly frightened. They need that, to keep them men.
Other men donтАЩt want them to have a girl. Other men want them just to fight women and be heroes. But
they must have a girl. ItтАЩs horrible for her."
I squeezed her fingers tighter, as if courage could be transmitted granting I had any. "I think I can get