"Martin, Michael A - AtTheCavern" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Michael A)

Other.

He laughed. "Of course not."

"Me neither. We'll just have to hope he's sharp enough to figure it out on his
own."

"What the hell are you talking about?" my Other said, looking perplexed.

The barmaid tried to charge past us, but I stopped her with a piercing whistle.
She looked startled. So did my Other when I ordered six Guinnesses.

"Two for you, two for me, two for John," I explained. Then I handed him the dead
man's palmtop. "Read this. Then we're going to invite a guest to our table."

John Lennon was smashed before he got halfway through the second pint. He didn't
look half as thuggish and threatening as his stage persona, slumped as he was
onto the cracked upholstery. He squinted first at my Other, then at me. His
glasses were nowhere in sight. Nearly knocking his pint over, Lennon once again
picked up the dead man's palmtop unit, turning it this way and that.

"Gear toy,"' he slurred. "Sort of, you know, like magic. Always loved that.
Magic, I mean." He pronounced loved like luvved, very scouse, very working
class, and, I thought, very affected.

I stood up, suddenly conscious of my bladder after the copious drinking. "That's
it, then," I said. "It's yours. If you figure out how it works and what it does,
you'll quite literally change the world."

Lennon smiled disarmingly. "Got that covered already," he said.

"No doubt," said my Other, also rising. looking a bit awed. "One way or
another."

Lennon stared up at him a little curiously, just for a second, before going back
to his new toy. My Other and I backed away.

After a trip to the men's room, we were outside again, watching the bits of
trash blow across the cobbles as afternoon settled into evening. Some of the
dock-worker types were evidently heading off for evening shifts. The nattily
clothed office types had begun drifting away after the Beatles' last set and
were now entirely gone. It was getting quiet.

My Other looked troubled. "Do you think that was the smartest thing we could
have done?"

"How should I know? The Manual doesn't cover this. We had to improvise. All we
know for sure is that our dead friend came here from some other timeline's
version of Alternitech. From the Technology Division."