"China Mieville - King Rat" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mieville China)

lamplight and crack the seal on the sewers, pulling the
metal cover out of the street without a sound.

Now I am in darkness but I can still see. I can hear
the growling of water through the tunnels. I am up to
my waist in your shit, I can feel it tugging at me, I can
smell it. I know my way through these passages.


I am heading north, submerged in the current,
wading, clinging to walls and ceiling. Live things
scuttle and slither to get out of my way. I weave
without hesitation through the dank corridors. The
rain has been fitful and hesitant but all the water in
London seems eager to reach its destination tonight.
The brick rivers of the underground are swollen. I dive
under the surface and swim in the cloying dark until
the time has come to emerge and I rise from the
deeps, dripping. I pass noiselessly again through the
pavement.

Towering above me is the red brick of my destination.
A great dark mass broken with squares of
irrelevant light. One glimmering in the shadow of the
eaves holds my attention. I straddle the corner of
the building and ease my way up. I am slower now.
The sound of television and the smell of food seep out
of the window, which I am reaching towards now,
which I am rattling now with my long nails, scratching,
a sound like a pigeon or a twig, an intriguing
sound, bait.




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PART ONE


GLASS