"John Meaney - Blood and Verse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meaney John)

тАЬUm, thanks.тАЭ

Behind her, a serving-girl appears (though I expected a drone or simply to ask
the house system) and saves me further embarrassment. I make my selection from
the dishes I recognize, and sit back to wait.

тАЬYouтАЩre even less localтАЭтАФthe lady pauses, sips tea from a porcelain
bowlтАФтАЭthan I am. An offworlder?тАЭ

тАЬThatтАЩs right, maтАЩam.тАЭ

IтАЩd hoped my Lingshua was perfectly accented. Obviously, thatтАЩs not the
case.

тАЬWhen did you arrive?тАЭ

тАЬAt TangleDrop 137, two days ago.тАЭ The tangledrop station was in far orbit:
thatтАЩs where I gained my outsiderтАЩs view of Quinv├иre and her orbiting sunlets. тАЬThe
shuttle took me to the airpad.тАЭ A richly appointed stopover and conference-centre,
floating inside the atmosphere, above the clouds. тАЬAnd yesterday I took a dropbug
down.тАЭ

She reaches across the table, and places her hand on mine.
 тАЬYou must be lonely.тАЭ

тАЬUmтАФтАЭ

***

I am lonely.

Mother...

For I will never see her again.

Picture her now: in her favourite salon, tinkering with crystal microsculpture
while soft insistent tarantismo music plays ... But now is relative. If I leave here this
instant, two centuries will have passed upon Calazzo by the time I return.

And as for FatherтАФViktor eтАЩSkelvin KaDonnel, a finer Blood Poet than I
could ever hope to beтАФI can picture him, also. In his usual steel-chased tunic,
standing over Mother, his beloved Aylishah, stroking his grey-streaked beard as he
watches her work.

Stay with her, Father.

Because he might take another commission, leave home as I have done. There
would be a chance, however small, that we could meet again upon Calazzo IV. For
honourтАЩs sake, Mother would not try to stop him, however much she might weep in
private. From their courtshipтАЩs initial, delicate days, poetsтАЩ wives grow accustomed