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

bearing him opened the lid and stepped from the box as he moved from the girl's
chest to the more comfortable position upon its back and shoulders.
Ezili led him into the bedroom where his new mount was sleeping peacefully.
"He wanted me the moment he saw me," Ezili said. "It was easy to get him to
bring me here, and easier yet to slip the draught into his drink after he had
me." She pouted, fingering the large, dark nipple of her left breast. "He was a
quick lover." she said with some disappointment.
"Later," Ti Malice said through his mount, "you shall be rewarded."
Ezili smiled happily as Ti Malice ordered his mount to bring him closer to the
bed. The mount complied, bending over the sleeping man, and Ti Malice
transferred himself quickly. He snuggled against the man's chest, nuzzling its
neck. The man stirred, moaned a little in its drugged sleep. Ti Malice found the
spot he needed, bit down with his single, sharp tooth, then drove his tongue
home.
The new mount groaned and feebly reached for its neck. But Ti Malice was already
firmly in place, mixing his saliva with his mount's blood, and the mount
subsided like a grumpy child having a slightly bad dream. It settled down into
deep sleep while Ti Malice made it his.
It was a splendid mount, powerful and strong. Its blood tasted wonderful.

iv.
"There have always been two Haitis," Mambo Julia said. "There is the city,
Port-au-Prince, where the government and its law rule. And there is the
countryside, where the Bizango rules."
"You used that word before," Chrysalis said, wiping the sweet juices of a
succulent tropical fruit off her chin. "What does it mean?"
"As your skeleton, which I can see so clearly, holds your body together, so the
Bizango binds the people of the countryside. It is an organization, a society
with a network of obligations and order. Not everyone belongs to it, but
everyone has a place in it and all abide by its decisions. The Bizango settles
disputes that would otherwise rip us apart. Sometimes it is easy. Sometimes, as
when someone is sentenced to become a zombi, it is difficult."
"The Bizango sentenced Marcel to become a zombi?" Mambo Julia nodded. "He was a
bad man. We in Haiti are more permissive about certain things than you
Americans. Marcel liked girls. There is nothing wrong with that. Many men have
several women. It is all right as long as they can support them and their
children. But Marcel liked young girls. Very young girls. He couldn't stop, so
the Bizango sat in judgment and sentenced him to become a zombi."
"They turned him into a zombi?"
"No, my dear. They judged him." Mambo Julia lost her air of convivial jollity. "
I made him into what he is today, and keep him that way by the powders I feed
him daily." Chrysalis placed the half-eaten fruit she was holding back upon its
plate, having suddenly lost her appetite. "It is a most sensible solution.
Marcel no longer harms young girls. He is instead a tireless worker for the good
of the community."
"And he'll always be a zombi?"
"Well, there have been a few zombi savane, those who have been buried and


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