"C. L. Moore - The Cold Gray God" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moore C. L)

was owned by a grim-jawed, leathery old drylander named Mhici, who was rumored
to have great influence with the powers in Righa; so that a drink in The
Spaceman's Rest was safely taken, without danger of interruption. He knew old
Mhici well. He turned a mildly inquiring eye upon Judai, waiting for her to go
on.
Her own eyes were lowered, but she seemed to feel his gaze, for she took up
her story again instantly, without lifting her lashes.
"The man's name I do not know, but he is of Mars, from the canal-countries,
and his face is deeply scarred across both cheeks. He hides what I want in a
little ivory box of drylander carving. If you can bring that to me you may
name your own reward." "-
Smith's pale eyes turned again, reluctantly, to the woman beside him. He
wondered briefly why he disliked even to look at her, for she seemed lovelier
each time his gaze rested upon that exquisitely tinted face. He saw that her
eyes were still lowered, the feather lashes brushing her cheeks. She nodded
without looking up as he echoed,
"Any price I ask?"
"Money or jewels or-what you will."
' 'Ten thousand gold dollars to my name in the Great Bank at Lakkjourna,
confirmed by viziphone when I hand you the
box."
If he expected a flicker of displeasure to cross her face at his
matter-of-factness, he was disappointed. She rose in one long gliding motion
and stood quietly before him. Smoothly, without lifting her eyes, she said,
"It is agreed, then. I will see you here tomorrow at this hour."
Her voice dropped with a note of finality and dismissal. Smith glanced up into
her face, and at what he saw there started to his feet in an involuntary
motion, staring undis-guisedly. She was standing quite still, with downcast
eyes, and all animation and allure were draining away from her
face. Uncomprehending, he watched humanity fading as if some glowing inward
tide ebbed away, leaving a husk of sweet, inanimate flesh where the radiant
Judai had stood a moment before.
An unpleasant little coldness rippled down his back as he watched. Uncertainly
he glanced toward the door, feeling more strongly than ever that inexplicable
revulsion against some inner alienness he could not understand. As he
hesitated, "Go, go!" came in an impatient voice from between her scarcely
moving lips. And in almost ludicrous haste he made for the door. His last
glance as it swung to of its own weight behind him revealed Judai standing
motionless where he had left her, a still figure silhouetted white and scarlet
against the immemorial pattern of the wall beyond. And he had a curious
impression that a thin gray fog veiled her body in a lowly spreading nimbus
that was inexplicably unpleasant.
Dusk was falling as he came out into the street again. A shadowy servant had
given him his coat, and Smith departed so quickly that he was still struggling
into the sleeves as he stepped out under the low arch of the door and drew a
deep breath of the keen, icy air in conscious relief. He could not have
explained, even to himself, the odd revulsion which Judai and her house had
roused in him, but he was very glad to be free of them both and out in the
open street again.
He shrugged himself deep into the warm fur coat and set off with long strides