"Larry Niven & Jerry Pournelle - Fallen Angels" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niven Larry)

current fanac. "You never did like Jake, did you?"
He shook his head. "That's not right. But he had his chance, and he went
mundane."
"So did I."
Bruce wasn't embarrassed at all. "Like you said, it was different with
him."
She let it drop and looked at the two strange faces. "Hi. I'm Sherrine
Hartley."
"I know." The man sitting to her left was massively built and had a
shaggy mane of white hair circling his face. He looked like an elderly lion,
or an Old Testament patriarch. "Will Waxman, from L.A. Bob told us we
were stopping to pick you up." He dropped his hand onto the shoulder of
the man next to him. "And this is Steve Mews. He's a Mean Dude."
settled back into one. She loved car heaters. They were like blowtorches for
warming up. The alcohol they burned would have been burned anyway, to
move the car. In ten minutes she was warm and could stop huddling.
"I've been fafiated for years," she said by way of conversation, "but I
keep hearing about the conventions. Weird ways. Cryptic notes in
electronic bulletin boards, things like that. I think you guys really love
playing undercover."
Mike grinned. "The word do get around."
"How's Worldcon?"
"It's Minicon. That's a pun. Minne-sota; but also 'mini-' because there's
only fifty-four in attendance."
"Forty-eight," she corrected him. "You guys are here."
Mike couldn't just be clever; he had to know that you knew he was
clever. A grin and a raised forefinger: "Wrong! This is a special Con
Committee meeting, so we are still officially in attendance. In fact, counting
you, there are now fifty-five."
"Anyhow," said Thor, "the Cruzcon was smaller. Only twelve people
showed up in 2008. We camped out in pup tents on the lawn of the old
Heinlein estate. So, if any con deserves the title MiniconтАФ"
"Oh, sure, if you want to be numerical about it. But 'miniтАФ' wouldn't
pun with 'Santa Cruz' . . ."
Sherrine laughed. They were heading for the Dakota Glacier with less
than a full tank of alcohol to rescue two downed spacemen from the
clutches of the government. All of them but Thor were putting their
mundane jobs on the line. And . . . and they were arguing about what to
name the convention! She had forgotten what it was like to be among fans.
Her gut relaxed like a fist unclenching after many years.
"Who showed up?" she asked. "At the con. Anybody I knew?"
Thor cocked his head. "It's been a while since you've been around. Let's
see. You know Chuck Umber. He's there; but he's not in on this. Too much
risk he might let something slip into his fanzine. You know Tom Degler
have less than zero attendance. Sherrine guessed he had forgotten which
side of the argument he was on.
Thor shook his head. "I think there were twenty or so at the party in his
hotel room-тАФ"
"That was a con party, not the con itself-тАФ"
"-тАФbefore the cops busted us."