"Vonda N. McIntyre-Steelcollar Worker" - читать интересную книгу автора (McIntyre Vonda N)

wonder why, or, worse, retrieve it for her and give it to her and expect Jannine to tell her what it was.
Neko might even read it herself. Jannine grabbed it, glanced at it, and shoved it into her pocket.
"What's up?" Neko asked.
Jannine shrugged. "Nothing. Busybody stuff. 'Eat your vegetables.'"
"Sorry." Neko's voice turned cool. "Didn't mean to be nosy." She turned and walked out of the factory
and into the new day.
Damn! Jannine thought. She wanted to try to explain, but couldn't think of the right words.
She hurried to catch up, blinking and squinting in the bright sunlight. When she'd arrived at work at
midnight, rain had slicked the streets. Now the air and the sky were clean and clear.
"Want to get a beer? I'm buying."
For a second she was afraid Neko would turn her down, keep on walking into the morning, and never
talk to her again. Neko strode on, shoulders hunched and hands shoved in her pockets.
Then she stopped and turned and waited.
"Yeah. Sure."
Finding a place that served beer at eight o'clock in the morning was no big deal near the factory. A lot
of the workers, like Jannine, came off the substrate with nerves tight, muscles tense. In reality, she'd spent
the last eight hours lying almost perfectly still. But she'd felt like she was in action all the time. Her work
felt like motion, like physical labor. Somewhere, somehow, she had to blow off the tension. Beer helped.
If she drank no more than a couple, she'd be able to pass the alert at midnight, no problem.
She slid her hand into her pocket and crumpled up the note. A couple of beers would let her stop
worrying about that, too.
"Jannine!"
"Huh? What?"
Neko shook her head. "You haven't heard a word I've said." She pushed open the tavern door.
Jannine followed her out of the sunlight and into the warm, loud gloom. They submerged in the dark, the
talk, the music.
Neko slipped through the crowd toward the bar. Jannine, head and shoulders taller than her friend,
had to press and sidle past people.
Jannine joined Neko by the wall, put her I.D. into the order slot, grabbed a couple of glasses, and
drew two beers. The tavern charged her and returned her I.D. Neko retrieved it for her and traded it for
one of the beers.
"Thanks!" Neko shouted above the racket. Four or five people were even trying to dance, there in the
middle of the room where hardly anyone could move.
Jannine looked around for a table. Stupid even to hope for one. After work she preferred standing or
walking to sitting, but Neko obviously wanted to talk. They weren't supposed to talk about work outside
the factory.
Somebody jostled her, nearly spilling her beer.
"Hey," she said, "spill the cheap stuff, OK?"
"Hey yourself, watch it."
She recognized the guy: two couches over and one down. Jannine didn't know his name. Heading
back to the order wall, he emptied his glass in a gulp. She felt envious. He could drink like that all
morning. She'd watched him do it more than once. He always passed the alert when midnight rolled
around.
"Neko!" She caught Neko's gaze and gestured. Neko nodded and followed her.
Jannine pushed her way farther inside, holding her glass high. She passed the bouncer. She knew one
was there, out of sight in the small balcony above eye level. She'd come in here four or five times before
noticing any of the people who kept an eye on the place. The balcony, upholstered in the same
hose-down dark fabric as the walls, blended into the dimness, unobtrusive. The bouncer let the artificials
take care of everything but trouble.
Jannine reached the hallway.