"George R. R. Martin - WC 4 - Aces Abroad" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

refusal was firm, and Downs finally gave up. Instead he handed out copies of the
latest issue of Aces and then sauntered up to the lounge, no doubt to pester
someone else. I am not a regular reader of Aces, but I accepted a copy and
suggested to Downs that his publisher consider a companion periodical, to be
called jokers. He was not overly enthused about the idea.
The issue features a rather striking cover photograph of the Turtle's shell
outlined against the oranges and reds of sunset, blurbed with "The Turtle Dead
or Alive?" The Turtle has not been seen since Wild Card Day, back in September,
when he was napalmed and crashed into the Hudson. Twisted and burnt pieces of
his shell were found on the riverbed, though no body has ever been recovered.
Several hundred people claim to have seen the Turtle near dawn the following
day, flying an older shell in the sky over Jokertown, but since he has not
reappeared since, some are putting that sighting down to hysteria and wishful
thinking.
I have no opinion on the Turtle, though I would hate to think that he was truly
dead. Many jokers believe that he is one of us, that his shell conceals some
unspeakable joker deformity. Whether that is true or not, he has been a good
friend to Jokertown for a long, long time.
There is, however, an aspect to this trip that no one ever speaks of, although
Downs's article brings it to mind. Perhaps it falls to me to mention the
unmentionable then. The truth is, all that laughter up in the lounge has a
slightly nervous ring to it, and it is no coincidence that this junket, under
discussion for so many years, was put together so swiftly in the past two
months. They want to get us out of town for a while-not just the jokers, the
aces too. The aces especially, one might even say.
This last Wild Card Day was a catastrophe for the city, and for every victim of
the virus everywhere. The level of violence was shocking and made headlines
across the nation. The still-unsolved murder of the Howler, the dismemberment of
a child ace in the midst of a huge crowd at Jetboy's Tomb, the attack on Aces
High, the destruction of the Turtle (or at least his shell), the wholesale
slaughter at the Cloisters, where a dozen bodies were brought out in pieces, the
predawn aerial battle that lit up the entire East Side ... days and even weeks
later the authorities were still not certain that they had an accurate death
toll.
One old man was found literally embedded in a solid brick wall, and when they
began to chip him out, they found they could not tell where his flesh ended and
the wall began. The autopsy revealed a ghastly mess inside, where his internal
organs were fused with the bricks that penetrated them. A Post photographer
snapped a picture of that old man trapped in his wall. He looks so gentle and
sweet. The police subsequently announced that the old man was an ace himself,



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and moreover a notorious criminal, 'that he was responsible for the murders of
Kid Dinosaur and the Howler, the attempted murder of the Turtle, the attack on
Aces High, the battle over the East River, the ghastly blood rites performed at
the Cloisters, and a whole range of lesser crimes. A number of aces came forward