"The Collapsium" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mccarthy Wil)

He saw right away that it wasn't an optimal response. In fact, she seemed to
find it funny.
"Have you? Are you dismissing me now, Philander? Don't be foolish: left to your
own devices you'll happily starve out here."
He frowned, not liking the condescension in her tone. Was that what she thought
of him? "You're the first human being I've seen in nearly a decade, Majesty. I
think I've gotten on rather well without your assistance."
"I suppose you have," she said, clearly amused at his expense. "But I must
attend a dinner party tonight, and I think you shall accompany me. You'll eat;
you'll socialize; you'll astonish me with your ability to get on."
"Ah." Dinner parties: loud, complicated. Bruno sighed, feeling his delicate
chain of thought breaking apart already. "Bother."
"Oh, bother yourself. For all your complaining, you do think best when you're
distracted. Leaving you here alone is really a disservice to all." Frowning, she
pinched the shoulder seam of his vest. "Bruno, where did you get this pattern?
We'll need to stop by the palace, have it dress you in something suitable. And
me, for that matter; we look like a couple of time travelers."
"From twenty years ago?"
She nodded. "At least."
Well humph, he'd been trying to continue his apparent funny streak. He was
pretty sure there'd been a time when Tamra had laughed at his jokes, finding
them witty and apropos. So long ago? Perhaps he should go partying with her,
freshen up the skills a bit. With six whole months until disaster struck, he
could hardly begrudge himself a single evening's fellowship, could he?
Particularly when the Queen herself commanded it.
He grunted suddenly, recalling that "disaster" meant, literally, "bad star."
Perhaps that could be made into a joke later. Or perhaps not, since nothing
leaped immediately to mind. Jokes you had to think about were not usually the
funniest. Especially if they were in bad taste to begin with. He did smile a
little at that.
"What?" Her Majesty asked, marking his shift of mood.
"Er, nothing. I'llЕ tell you later."
Accepting that answer, she smiled, took his hand, threaded her fingers through
his, and began leading him toward the blank vertical slab of the fax gate.
"Well. It's time, then."
"Wait," he protested, "it's not evening now, is it?"
"It is on Maxwell Monies."
"Maxwell Monies? Venus? That's where we're going?"
"Yep. And it occurs to me we've less than an hour to get ready."
"ButЕ" he said, realizing the futility of the words even as they left his lips.
"An hour? Bother it, I've only just eaten breakfast."
4
In which a legendary mead hall is christened
Maxwell Montes Is the highest point on Venus, reaching through fully a third of
the planet's thick, toxic atmosphere, and as such, was the first place to become
marginally habitable once terraforming began. Or so Tamra informed Bruno as her
Tongan courtiersЧa trio of gorgeous but nearly flat-chested ladies affecting a
quite implausible adolescenceЧfussed with the final details of his hair and
clothing.
Two of the women were vaguely familiar; he'd already feigned embarrassment over